The gates of Fort Thragg clanged loudly as they shut, closing the caravan inside the central square. The fort was a bustle, with dozens of workers offloading the cargo.
Everything from arrows and coal for the forge, to lantern oil. Food stuff made up a majority of the cargo, mostly nonperishables. Operating such a large fort in the Blade Mountains had to be incredibly expensive.
With their arrival, Osmal, and the other sect members were paid. He had made a decent haul of merit and a handful of crowns as well. Given how many resources had been dumped into the tide, he was quite excited to see what was on offer.
Leaving the workers to unload, Osmal found the blue springs sect banners, floating above one section of the fort and headed that way.
The fort was quite large, with several wings, the main wing taken up by the kingdom of Adro. Whether that was to put a wedge between the two sects or to declare superiority was anyone's guess.
In either case, the low-ranking sect members were on duty as he entered the left wing of the fort. He tossed a half-crown to the woman currently on guard.
"Where is the merit exchange?" Osmal asked.
"It's in the main keep. Locked up tighter than an elder's purse. Unauthorized entry will get you strung up," the younger woman said, gesturing with her chin.
Osmal glanced over his shoulder towards the parapet, where a head was impaled on a wooden spear, blood staining the haft.
Osmal nodded at the warning. So, it was wartime rules. Not illegal unless you get caught.
"Thanks," Osmal said.
That was a good use of a half crown. So, someone had already tried to sneak into the vault and been subsequently impaled on a stake.
Unlucky. Sometimes the risks just weren't worth it. It took him a few minutes, but he found the place she had indicated.
Osmal would love nothing more than to line his pockets with the treasury's valuables, but he had to be realistic.
Just getting inside, his skin crawled as layers of active techniques slid over him. Multiple reinforced doors, combined with magical barriers.
The sect was not playing around. It really was locked up tighter than an elder's purse. A shame. Osmal was greeted by an older man only vaguely familiar to him.
The man was a former disciple of a deceased elder, firmly in the pocket of the grand matron. Though no longer being a disciple, Grim had more than enough power to back up his position.
Osmal gave the man a deep bow, as was fitting for his position.
"Master Grim. I have come to see what wares are available," Osmal said, offering his sect badge.
"Not even here an hour and already harassing me," The old miser grumped.
"What can I say? I have some merit burning a hole in my pockets," Osmal replied.
"Very well. You know the drill," Grim said, placing a large crystal atop the counter between them.
Osmal approached, touching his sect badge to one of the flat sides of the head-sized crystal. As usual, a flood of information filled his mind, lists upon lists of materials, elixirs, and even techniques rushing in.
"Holy shit," Osmal said, breathlessly.
Grim chuckled.
"Pretty impressive, eh?" Grim asked.
"No kidding, some are quite pricey though," Osmal said.
"That they are, as befits their value," Grim replied.
The man was right.
All of a sudden, his decent gains of the past weeks felt like pocket change. All the really good stuff was well out of his means.
Osmal hesitated for a few long minutes, mulling over his options.
Save up, or use what he had to help empower himself? The really good stuff was incredibly tempting, but, in the end, Osmal knew the tide would be rough.
He couldn't spend his hard-earned merit if he were a corpse. In the end, he dumped all of his merit into an earthly Sky elixir.
Even the low-hanging fruit was enough to make his stomach churn with excitement. The sect really was opening its coffers.
A couple weeks of work on mere escort duty for a treasure the middling members of the sect like himself couldn't usually get their hands on.
His merit drained from his sect badge, and the elixir appeared in a puff of shadows, its magic pulling it directly from the vault. He still had no idea how it did that.
After verifying it was real in his mind's eye, Osmal quickly tucked it up his sleeves. He gave the bored Grim a final bow before leaving. Now for somewhere to find a drink, and a place to use the elixir in peace.
Easier said than done. Like everything in the sect, even the fort was free for all. Those with the biggest fist got the best lodgings. At least they understood people needed to cultivate in privacy.
For a fee that felt like highway robbery, Osmal rented a dingy chamber. More like a box with a threadbare mat in the middle.
Unfortunately, he couldn't afford a chamber with a gathering array or an energy amplifier. The cost was simply sickening, and required him to enter the central fort.
Despite his chamber's wretched appearance, he was quite enthusiastic. Getting access to an earthen sky elixir offered a host of opportunities.
It was considered a half-step elixir to the next stage, but still, much better than the stone elixir he had used before.
Disrobing, he carefully applied the syrupy liquid from the elixir to his body with a brush. It was quite pungent, but its efficacy was no joke. He could already feel the paste it drawing in the ambient energy, and he hadn't even started his sutra yet.
After nearly an hour of applying the paste, he took a deep breath.
His excitement waned for a second as he remembered one of the veterans complaining about the pain. Could it really be that bad?
He only hesitated for a few seconds. After mentally preparing himself, Osmal took the first step of his body tempering Sutra, following the steps of severing the earthly shackles, Manuel.
The pain made him want to vomit. Osmal forcibly choked back a cry of agony as he moved into the next stance. What kind of sadist invented this? The pain was on a whole other level from the elixir of stone.
On the other hand, it was extremely potent. Everything from his core to his channels was being cleansed and strengthened.
Felt like his bones were being ground to dust, but it was worth it. When he finally finished, he collapsed, unable to even stand. Gasping for breath, Osmal lay on his back, drenched in sweat.
He felt like jelly, every inch of his body stinging as the expended paste sluffed off.
Despite the exhaustion and pain, he couldn't help but smile. As the pain subsided, he tentatively drew on energy from his core. It flowed much more smoothly now, and he could draw on more than ever before.
It might be enough to use the smoldering phoenix technique now. Unfortunately, just like the elixir of stone, the first use had the best effect. Using another would still be just as painful, and he might only reap half the benefits.
Still worth it in his book, but Osmal would be forced to seek out other methods for quick gains.
He was what they called an earthen core cultivator. Earthen referred to the earthly taint that clogged the core.
To break your earthly shackles was to ascend into the sky, and to surpass the sky was to step into the heavens.
It was rumored that the grand matron had actually reached the heavenly core stage. No way to verify that, but it set a strong precedent.
A difficult prospect indeed. Getting this far was already hard enough, and it only kept getting more difficult. Even half-step sky elixirs could only take him so far.
Getting his hands on better resources would be like stealing meat from a hungry pack of lions.
Osmal clenched his fist. He might not be a lion, but being an opportunistic jackal wasn't so bad. The surge of new power made his skin tingle.
Next time he ran into those feathered assholes, he was going to turn them into dinner. Repayment for all the sleepless nights on the way here.
Osmal couldn't help himself. In one motion, he leapt from his back to his feet and slammed his fist into the door.
Smoke filled the air, the door crashing into smoldering kindling as it flew off its hinges.
"Hey! You are going to have to pay for that!" shouted an angry voice.
Stepping over the door with a smoldering fist print in the center, he tossed over a crown.
"Oops, that's my bad," Osmal grumped.
The man gave him a dirty look as he passed, clearly annoyed, but not willing to risk his life over a simple door.
Osmal didn't care; he got what he came for.
He was now fully tapped on merit, but he wasn't too bothered. Merit wasn't the only payment he was given. Crowns were another one, not as good as merit, but still valuable.
Rations were supplied by the sect, but they were a tasteless fare. The good stuff had to be purchased; the only problem was now, where to find a good watering hole.
He was feeling festive after his recent gains. It took him a while, but eventually he found it. In the central keep were a series of shops and even a tavern.
He wasn't the first to discover the watering hole. Plenty of others were here, from regular soldiers of the kingdom to members of the Blue Spring and Red Sky sects.
The stench of alcohol wafted to his nose as he walked through the tavern, his eyes flitting over the patrons, never resting on any one person. He felt more than one presence brush against his, testing, probing to gauge his strength.
Most did a subtle probe, common practice in the sects. Several were more overt, directly focusing their perception on him.
Osmal drew on some energy from his newly enhanced core, flooding his channels. There were more than a few winces.
It would be like looking directly at a harsh light. That's what they got for trying to probe him. There were a few chuckles at the misfortune.
Osmal pretended not to notice the feu pas. he walked deeper into the tavern. Most of the tables were full, though there were a couple of empty ones near the back. Osmal was heading towards one when a lone woman in her own booth caught his eye.
Their eyes locked.
"Don't you look chipper, like a fox who snuck into the hen house," Ash said.
He grinned.