The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

A large reservoir of water reflected the visage of the fortress, the two suns shining along its spire. The waters were leveled and balanced to each corner, having not a blemish of a fallen leaf nor the echoes of ripples, perfectly clean and quiet. Bubbles disturbed the stagnant and peaceful surface, their numbers multiplying and their noise intensifying. Soon, a figure rose, excess water flowing from his white hair and dripping onto his white training robes.

Willet Claude levitated over the pool and floated over to the courtyard grounds, his feet planted firmly on the smooth stone. At the raising of his arms, the maids at the sidelines approached and patted down his body with towels, carefully drying each strand of his hair. Willet waved them away back to their stations, scoffing at their looks of reluctance, and rested himself on a reclined bench. None of these maids were worthy of his affection, only her, only Maia.

Footsteps clattered loudly against the stone pavement, and his second-in-command, Sasel, entered the courtyard. Sasel shouted for the maids to leave them alone, and when the courtyard was cleared, he bowed at Willet's side. "My Lord is astounding as always. What level of pressure are these pools set to? Ten? Eleven?"

Willet sipped the tea placed beforehand by the maids and chuckled. "It is mere lightwork. Is everyone gathered?"

"They are. They wait for you inside." Sasel answered respectfully.

"Good. One cannot simply walk into battle without proper preparation. Tell them I will be there soon." Willet rose from his seat and left Sasel to handle it for now. He dried himself completely and changed into his uniform, baring the mark of the Undying Flame Sect. Staring at himself in the mirror, Willet tidied up every wrinkle and adjusted his medallions to their proper angles.

Satisfied, he left his temporary room and paced slowly through the stone halls, stripped of the metal that gave Drakken Port its reputation. A smile formed, and a chuckle slipped past his lips. He could not believe that the enemy did such an act, an act that betrayed everything the fortress stood for, to tear down the markings of the past that they once brazenly left behind. Willet stopped his feet and grew curious about what the enemy was thinking; they had torn down the past and their home all for what?

Resuming his steps, Willet nodded to the guards who opened the door. Inside were his war council, his second-in-command, Sasel, Shipmaster Gen, and Captain Edgil, his trusted advisors and brother-in-arms of many battles. At his arrival, they all stood and bowed deeply, shouting their greetings and wishing him a good day. Willet smiled and seated himself at the head of the table, sipping the wine laid out for him.

"The enemy's movements?" Willet gazed over the map on the table before turning to Sasel.

"After they hit part of the northern territories, they slipped back south into our conquered domain. As of now, they've made no wild movements." Sasel responded. "However, our scouts indicate they are hiding somewhere in the open eastern seas."

"Attack then withdraw…an odd move, almost like an invitation." Willet straightened his back and cupped his hands.

"My Lord, we should destroy them at once!" Captain Edgil shouted, his long mustache shaking from the ferocity of his lip's movements. "They've insulted us for far too long."

"I exercise caution in this case, my Lord. The reports about their strange vessel have me concerned." Shipmaster Gen interrupted Edgil, leaned forward, and placed a paper. Indeed, it was a strange vessel depicted in the drawing, egg-shaped ships interlocked by bridges into a spherical form.

Willet pulled the drawing toward him for a closer look and traced his finger along the circular outline of the vessel. He never removed his eyes from the paper while saying, "Sasel. Your report on this thing?"

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"We've rounded up the survivors and asked each of them the same questions. This strange structure comprises many connected ships in the shape you see here. It has immense firepower, able to lay waste to dozens of ships in no time. The frightening part is its range and layers."

"The range…layers?" Willet withdrew his gaze and focused on Sasel, raising an eyebrow.

"Its cannons fire at vastly superior ranges, up to around 30 miles. The first layer is the range of the outer ships. Once, some of our fleets tried to get closer and were bombarded by the larger ships in the middle."

Willet raised his hand, and Sasel stopped speaking. He drew three circles on a blank sheet. The other three stretched out their necks to see what he had drawn, and Willet tapped his fingers on the circles. "Three layers of ships. Three layers of firing ranges. Do we know the range of the inner layers?"

"Forgive me, my Lord. None have made it that far." Sasel bowed his head.

"That is not your fault. It simply means our enemy's power far outstripped the others. This spherical form, however, looks vulnerable. Can the ships on one side reach their targets on the other?" Willet asked his council.

Shipmaster Gen answered, "No, my Lord. They have a peculiar method of firing their cannons in one direction. The entire structure rotates, their ships taking turns firing. It allows them to properly reload the idle guns and allow them to cool down."

Captain Edgil interrupted, "Speed should be the key, my Lord. We can press in from all angles, wait out their outer layer of guns, and use that gap to rush in."

"That'll be a foolhardy effort, Edgil. What kind of losses will we gather?" Shipmaster Gen chastised the captain and turned to Willet. "My Lord, the more concerning matter is this structure's defensive capabilities. A barrier on par with a city covers this beast. The fabricators and alchemists are stumped as to how this behemoth can exist."

Willet chuckled and waved his hand to stop Shipmaster Gen from speaking. "Interesting. Very interesting. And a worthy opponent. Sasel! Assemble some ships."

"Are we setting out?" Sasel asked.

"No. Just a dummy fleet of our worst ships. I want to see this thing in action myself. Have the three Marshal Exalts follow us to provide protection. If this thing has a weakness, we will find it." Willet crumpled up the drawing of the strange structure in his hand, mixing in with the clattering of his officers' footsteps. He ignored their subservient farewells and gazed at the map, focusing on the eastern shore.

…….

Oscar smacked his lips several times, shuddering from the salty taste of the ocean in his mouth. Splashes of salty droplets landed on his helmet, and he reeled in a large fish from the end of his line. The metal of the ship's deck drummed rhythmically from the fish's flopping, its tail hitting against the rails.

"Shipmaster! That's a big one!" Several folks came by and congratulated them, their white hair and face of wrinkles running opposite to the bright smiles across their mouths. Fishing poles hung over their shoulders, and they carried buckets of captured fish.

"You caught more than me. How is everyone?" Oscar asked, tossing the fish into the old man's bucket.

"Holding up…Holding up. We were wondering when we could leave this ship and settle down. Some of the others have been…well, we can say they've been less than tolerable as of late." One of the elders answered, sighing and lowering his knees to rest on an upside-down bucket.

Oscar sighed and patted the elderly man on the back. "I'm sorry about routing you all from your homes."

"Hah. At least we're still by the seas. This old crook loves to complain." An old lady scoffed. "Be grateful we're all still alive."

The ocean swayed and tickled his legs, and Oscar relaxed for the first time in a long while—a rare time of relaxation. He raised his arms and readied to throw another cast out in the waters, but a slight pulse through the air tremored across his body. An unnatural and forceful push pressed on his skin, and he forced out a cough. He stared into the sky and narrowed his eyes at slight dots slowly growing in the distance.

"Have everyone go back inside. The enemy is here!" Oscar shouted. His outburst was immediately surrounded by rapid and chaotic migrations of the populace as they retreated into the flagship. He raised his voice, drowning out their screams and wailing to direct them in an orderly manner.

Once the last of the citizens were safely inside, Oscar jumped in and shut the hatch, stomping across the metal halls into the main bridge. He touched the translucent control orb and regained control of Garantulem, his vision darting from ship to ship and then outside, where a fleet of ships was fast approaching. Splotches of red dotted the blue sky.

From a single order to Garantulem, Oscar trembled. It wasn't just him. Everyone on the ship was trembling. The entire interior shook, and the rattling of countless bolts and screws mixed with the splashing waves. White foams from the residue of water dripped down the glass of the windows as the ocean descended below, and the clouds came to level.

"Everyone to your stations. The enemy has found us." Oscar relayed into the alarms.

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