"Is this all?" Miss Grease asked, her voice raspy as she eyed the materials Wilford had brought to her.
"Yeah," Wilford responded simply.
Miss Grease's frail, gnarled hand shimmered faintly as she gestured towards him. "Five." she said, her tone firm despite her age.
Wilford nodded and handed over the yellow crystalline shards. These shards, useless to most, held value only because the inhabitants of Akkaris had attached significance to them. A small price to pay.
With the supplies in hand, Wilford made his way back to his home.
Upon entering, he was greeted by the familiar sight of blackboards scattered throughout the room. Each one was covered with writings, sketches, and calculations—fragments of his endless research. The boards were on wheels, and any slight nudge would send one rolling into another, setting off a chain reaction of clattering and bumping that often disrupted his work.
The writings, in truth, weren't that important—just calculations, theories, and thought experiments he'd conducted on the Aether Cultivation Stages.
Suddenly, a rustling sound echoed as a rabbit scurried toward Wilford .
"Alright, calm down," Wilford reassured the rabbit as he fed it. The rabbit quickly nibbled on the food while Wilford sat down beside it, sighing deeply.
"Tharmas, how's the progress going?" Wilford asked, his voice tired.
Tharmas's voice echoed in his mind: [Of the 210 models you've created, 190 were unable to pass the first phase. Seven failed in the second phase, and the remaining models collapsed when the world's laws were simulated.]
Wilford let out another sigh. "Give me a rundown of the main reasons for failure."
[Out of the 210 models, the first 190 failed due to either a lack of feasibility, a lack of information, or both. Those that failed the second phase were unable to reach power levels comparable to those at the theoretical pinnacle of Aether Cultivation. The models that collapsed in the third phase, as I mentioned earlier, were due to the world's laws strongly opposing them.]
Hearing this, Wilford frowned. "What do you mean by 'strongly'?"
[A better term would be 'forbids.' This world forbids the creation of Power Methods that deviate from the original. It simply won't allow such things to exist.]
Wilford 's face darkened as he processed the information.
"Tharmas, do me a favor and synthesize hundreds of random power methods whose feasibility and foundations are weak and limited, yet share a connection to Aether Cultivation. Run them through the simulation. Remove all the factors in the simulation except the laws, and run it through only that," Wilford ordered.
[Alright. Synthesizing 456 models. Commencing simulation...]
[…Simulation completed ]
Result: All models were strongly resisted by the world's laws. Unable to even remain as a thought before being erased.]
Wilford, hearing this, was perplexed. "This world… It resists any attempt at the creation of a new system of power!" Wilford was shocked by the revelation.
"This shouldn't be possible, according to you, Tharmas," Wilford said, confused.
[There is a way. There always is. When Tarthocas Enterprises sealed the deal with the worlds, there was a specific clause that summed up that 'Power Systems' are up to the worlds, and thus each world has its own meaning of a power system that you have to abide by.]
"Couldn't you have said this earlier?" Wilford couldn't stop his lips from twitching in annoyance at Tharmas's response.
[You never asked.]
"Your sense of humor is even worse than Urizen's in the past," Wilford sighed.
There came no response.
Wilford sighed. "Do you know this world's meaning for an acceptable power system?" He asked, although he was quite sure Tharmas wouldn't answer.
Unexpectedly, the voice returned. [This world already features it. All the major powers here use it. You just have to create something like that, powerful enough to reach the peak. Nothing much.]
"Huh."
[Huh.]
Both were silent before Wilford broke it. "What did you just say?"
[I said that this world features the type of power system it finds acceptable, and a form of it is already used here.]
"Oh… I didn't expect you to answer," Wilford muttered.
[I'm meant to help you. Of course, I'll answer your questions… well, most of them.]
"Yeah, you're right," Wilford acknowledged with a resigned sigh. "So the world's accepted power systems are techniques, right? Cultivation techniques of Aether, to be more precise."
[Correct! This world only allows cultivation techniques that are parallel to its established power system to exist—nothing else!]
"Well, this makes things easier for me." Wilford sighed in relief.
Aether Cultivation Techniques were something that could, theoretically, be created by anyone intelligent and experienced enough. They were quite similar to the Martial Cultivation Techniques of the First World. Essentially, these techniques gave a boost in combat strength or made progress through the cultivation path easier.
The highest-grade Aether Cultivation Technique Wilford knew of was only at the Saint Stage, yet even those techniques allowed a Saint in the Iron Seed Stage to advance to Jade Sapling within a few months.
However, there were significant disadvantages, especially in the later stages of cultivation, which involved the psyche of humans. It was nearly impossible to follow a technique without sacrificing one's Innate Attribute, leading to 'unfavorable outcomes,' to say the least.
"A technique this time, eh? Very well," Wilford thought to himself. "You want a technique? I'll give you the greatest technique that can be created!"
In the Central Hold, the Council was engaged in a heated discussion over recent reports.
"How is the Army of Purgatorio faring, Rathanor?" Karsus asked.
"They're holding up, managed to even force the Lord of Forgotten Time to retreat. We've gained some ground... but then the Ash Dragon Lord appeared," Rathanor said with a grimace.
Karsus sighed, hearing of the destruction of the 1,567th iteration of the Purgatorio Army. "Well, at least this time they managed to beat back the 6th General of The Sovereign. In the last hundred iterations, they couldn't even lay a scratch on the 7th!"
"Yeah, there's some improvement," Rathanor admitted, but his frustration was clear. "Still, it's just too... slow. The day when The Sovereign breaks through the barrier is coming, and the Deities are still recuperating from the Last War. If this continues, you know very well what our fate will be."
Karsus had no response. This wasn't the first time they had this conversation, and it wouldn't be the last. But the thought of the impending doom—The Sovereign's breakthrough—gnawed at him. None of those in Paradise would ever willingly call their enemy The Sovereign. Acknowledging that title was a mark of shame, one their foe reveled in.
During the last moments of the War of Aether, The Sovereign had etched that title into existence, forcing all to refer to them by that name. This was an unbearable humiliation for the prideful Deities. In retaliation, in their dying breaths, the Great Deities buried the true name of The Sovereign deep within the ashes of their corpses.
"The name of The Sovereign..." Karsus's thoughts lingered until Rathanor's voice pulled him back to the present.
"Oi! Snap out of it! You're thinking about The Sovereign's name again, aren't you?" Rathanor sighed, seeing Karsus's distracted expression. "Your obsession with The Sovereign is psychotic, you know that?"
Karsus smiled. "Since when have any of us been sane?"
Rathanor snorted. "Let's not talk about it too much, or The Sovereign will sense someone's speaking about him from within Paradise."
Karsus sighed and nodded, but The Sovereign's presence lingered in his mind.
"So, Karsus, remember that Darrow kid?" Rathanor asked.
Karsus frowned for a moment in thought. "Elminis?"
"Yeah, that one. From my sources, he's been toiling away, doing nothing," Rathanor replied with an apparent frown.
"Is that so? Very well, conscript him into the Purgatorio Army," Karsus advised.
"Alright." Rathanor agreed and sent out the message.
"By the way... how's Alisha doing?" Karsus suddenly asked.
"That's my scion, Karsus."
"..."
"..."