Chương 91: The Six Slots

The news that America was participating in the Grand Formations Summit took the world by storm. There had always been an inferiority complex when people compared Earth to the Catacombs. After all, the Catacombs had Void Refining and Great Ascension cultivators, along with a seemingly endless supply of Nascent Soul lords. Your typical American would brag about atomic qi bombs and the Nascent Soul kill-death ratio in recent major operations, but ultimately, they still carried a massive chip on their shoulder.

A popular phrase from China captured the sentiment: "The river flows thirty years east and thirty years west. Don't bully the young and poor." Everyone on Earth believed they were simply limited by time and resources. People believed if they had access to the same spirit veins of as the Catacombs did, the war would be over within a decade. So when America announced its participation in the Grand Formations Summit, everyone jumped at the chance to compete in a fair playing field.

The Grand Formations Summit was a long-running competition directly sponsored by the Great Ascension cultivators deep within the Catacombs. Held every three years in May, it had been contested for the past century between the Grey Cult, the Weaver Cult, and the Hollow Cult. These three cults occupied the other end of the New York Catacombs, and after the Treaty of Great Restraint, they extended an invitation for America to participate.

On the surface, Earth and the Catacombs appeared locked in a bitter existential struggle. In reality, the war was mainly fought by cultivators of the lower realms. Upper realm cultivators had their own goals and ambitions. Earth still did not fully understand the motivations of the Great Ascension Cultivators, but clearly, at least one of them was willing to overlook the conflict and extend the invitation. On paper, the Grand Formations Summit was held between the three cults.

In practice, top talents from across the entire Catacombs were scouted and found their way onto one of the three teams. If the Grey Cult turned away a promising young formation talent, the Weaver and Hollow Cults would immediately swoop in to poach them. In fact, the Weaver Cult had won the last iteration with a team of six young prodigies, all recruited from foreign cults. After all, there was no prize for second place. America was clearly preparing to do something similar.

They jointly announced their participation with the International Manifestation Foundation, hosts of the annual International Manifestations Olympiad (IMO).

"Manifestation" was the European Legacy Sects' term for formations. This year, the IMO would be held in early December. From there, a team of talents would be selected to join the Manifestations Olympiad Program (MOP). At MOP, the final team of six would be chosen to represent America at the Grand Formations Summit. The IMO would be structured differently than in previous years. Typically, the competition tested high school students on their breadth and depth of knowledge under Modern Formations Theory.

This year, multiple categories were added. Every student would still be tested on Modern Formations Theory, and the score would be critical to their selection, but only one MOP slot would go to the highest scorer in that category. Two slots would go to the highest scorers in Chinese Classical Formation Theory. Two slots would go to the highest scorers in European Legacy Sect Manifestation Theory.

And up to two slots were available to students who could demonstrate unusually high attainment in esoteric, non-systemic formation derivation. In January, these seven formation talents selected through the IMO competition would join three pre-selected formation drawers for a boot camp at MOP. From this group of ten, the final team of six would be chosen to represent America against the three cults.

The IMO was a competition with very high standards and elite competitors so many formation masters inquired about the requirements to be selected as a formation drawer. The answer was simple, yet terrifying. All you had to do was to walk into any US embassy or consulate and demonstrate a Si of over 7, 000 while under the age of nineteen. This was frankly impossible. Many wondered who could possibly meet such requirements. The only obvious candidate was Leo Chen, the prodigy with impossibly high Si growth.

But who could the other two be?

"You'll meet the other two tomorrow," Professor Vogt told Leo.

"We will be relocating to the International Formations Institute at Carnegie Mellon University." Leo opened his mouth.

"And no," Vogt said before he could speak.

"They are not like you. They are divine children of the Obsidian Cult." Leo froze.

"The Obsidian Cult. The ones I fought last December in the Boston Catacombs?"

"Correct."

"What if they're mad at me for killing their uncle or something?" Vogt's expression remained patient.

"The diplomatic team has thoroughly vetted the two divine children joining you tomorrow. The Obsidian Cult is large. Even the divine family is not particularly unified. You have nothing to worry about."

"I guess that makes sense." Leo didn't sound convinced.

"I'm confused about the team selection for MOP. Why is there so much emphasis on Chinese Classical and European Legacy Sect backgrounds? I thought Modern Formation Theory was the standard now."

"Everyone at the IMO will have a strong background in Modern Formation Theory," Vogt explained.

"Even specialists in other areas study it extensively. Modern Formation Theory is the baseline, not the differentiating factor." She leaned back in her chair.

"The problem with Modern Formation Theory is its focus on replicability. Formations constructed under it are designed to be easily reproduced by other formation masters. This is extremely important for supply chain economics."

"After all, no formation master has ever gotten rich through drawing alone." Vogt smiled.

"The real money is in the licensing fees." Leo nodded. He had heard plenty about how difficult life as a formation master was. Spiritual qi was expensive. Finished formations were cheap.

"Ultimately," Vogt continued, "even though one Modern Formation expert will be selected for MOP, there is a high likelihood she won't make the final six for the Grand Formations Summit. The likely candidates for the other slots should already have more than sufficient knowledge of Modern Formation Theory."

"Wait." Leo caught the pronoun.

"She? You already know who's going to win?" Vogt raised an eyebrow.

"You aren't aware? Vivian placed first at the IMO two months ago. She was the only student with a perfect score." Her tone sharpened.

"You really should keep better tabs on your teammates." Then he stopped.

"Wait. Am I taking Vivian's spot?"

"Without you, there would be no Grand Formations Summit," Vogt said patiently.

"Can I request that she join the team? Or condition my participation on her joining?" Vogt shook her head.

"I already discussed this with her months ago, when the federal government first contacted us about possibly joining this year's summit." She met Leo's eyes.

"She knows the stakes. She knows how difficult it will be. She would rather give you the best chance to win than join the team, drag it down, and lose."

"Vivian wouldn't drag anyone down." Leo's voice rose.

"She's the smartest person I know."

"She would be a useful asset," Vogt acknowledged.

"But she herself recognizes that we can combine other people to approximate her skillset." Leo went quiet. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"That's not to say it's impossible for Vivian to join," Vogt said after a moment.

"In fact, there is a way." Leo looked up.

"Think about it. The team we send to the Grand Formations Summit will have six people. Three slots are taken by you and the two divine children. This leaves two possible configurations for the remaining three." Vogt held up one finger.

"If we have Vivian, we can take pure specialists in Chinese Classical Formation Theory and European Legacy Sect heritage. Possibly the strongest configuration. But we would be missing a crucial specialist in esoteric derivation." She held up a second finger.

"If we don't have Vivian, we must take people who are strong in Chinese Classical and European heritage formation theory but also have a solid background in Modern Formation Theory to cover for her absence. This opens room for a specialist in esoteric derivation." Leo processed this.

"Starting tomorrow, when you join the two divine children, you will also be joined by a master of esoteric derivation." Vogt's gaze was steady.

"If you can demonstrate concrete results in his methods, we will likely go with the configuration that includes Vivian. If none of you three can inherit his techniques, we cannot take the risk." Leo nodded. His confidence returned. His omnidirectional perspective had never failed him before. Vogt saw the change in his expression and smiled.

"If you can inherit even a portion of his technique, Vivian's spot is practically guaranteed. The other candidates for the esoteric derivation slot can only demonstrate what they can do at Qi Refining. One proven result at Foundation Establishment is worth more than guessing how Qi Refining talents might scale up."

"Should I talk to Vivian about this?" Leo asked. Vogt shook her head.

"Some things are best left unsaid. Just work hard and tell her your progress at MOP." She gave a slight shrug.

"Grau ist alle Theorie. All theory is gray. We can plan configurations all day, but we won't know what team of six people will work best until we lock you all into a room together."

Leo wasn't the only one excited to see the two divine children of the Obsidian Cult. It felt like the entire city of Pittsburgh joined him on the streets near the International Formation Institute. Word had spread quickly. Keeping a secret was hard when a foreign visitor transited through the Boston Catacombs on a conspicuous Obsidian Barge surrounded by an honor guard of flyers. Leo had watched the videos circulating online. The barge approaching Garrison Boston. The dramatic docking sequence.

The black hull cutting through the clouds. To be honest, it was a little underwhelming. Sure, the barge was larger and more imposing than the ones at the Battle of Fort Cambridge. But it was hard to take obsidian barges seriously when the last time Leo saw them, they were burning and dying by the hundreds. Over two and a half thousand Obsidian Cult Gold Core Superiors were killed or captured from the fallen barges.

Tens of thousands of Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining cultivators had surrendered in the aftermath. Last Leo heard, the government had to ransom them back for cheap. The Obsidian Cult knew that Earthlings were too stingy to pay for their prisoners' daily spiritual qi maintenance and offered only a couple of spiritstones each. The government still took the deal. Quite a few cultivators ended up mailing back additional spiritstones after returning to the cult.

Apparently their ransom price had been so insultingly low that they felt the need to top it up out of pocket. A matter of face. A big welcome party was planned for the two divine children in Pittsburgh. The city wanted to show off the new International Formations Institute and build their reputation on the world stage. News crews were booked. Banners were hung. A marching band stood on standby. This time, the two divine children rode in a Bugatti La Voiture Noire.

Somewhere along the way, someone had explained to the two children that their 'flying pincushion' wasn't doing them any favors, so they switched to a vehicle more befitting of their status. Leo stood at the bottom of the Institute's front steps, flanked by formation officials and a small army of photographers. A red carpet had been rolled out. Banners bearing both the American flag and the Obsidian Cult's sigil hung from the entrance columns. The crowd pressed against the barriers, phones raised.

Two figures emerged from the vehicle. The first was a young man built like someone who spent more time in training grounds than formation workshops. Thadelion Nyxalis had broad shoulders, a square jaw, and dark hair cropped short. He wore a high-collared black coat with silver clasps, the goth aesthetic somehow rendered jock-like by his athletic frame. The second was his sister. Ellaraeth Nyxalis had fine angular features and pale skin contrasting with hair so black it looked like ink.

Her eyes were violet, deep and luminous. She wore layered black lace over darker silk, silver rings on each finger. Ellaraeth walked three paces behind her brother. When Thadelion got distracted by the cheering crowd and started drifting toward them, she reached out without looking, hooked two fingers into the back of his collar, and yanked him back. All without breaking her stride. A formation institute official guided the two divine children toward Leo. The cameras followed.

Thadelion reached him first and extended his hand. His grip was firm. Maybe a little too firm.

"Leo Chen," Thadelion said.

"I've heard stories."

"Good ones, I hope."

"Interesting ones." Thadelion smiled. It didn't quite reach his eyes. Ellaraeth stepped forward next. She gathered the edges of her dress and dipped into a graceful curtsey.

"Ellaraeth Nyxalis," she said, her voice soft but clear.

"It is an honor to meet you, Young Master Chen." Leo returned the greeting with a bow of his own.

"The honor is mine." The crowd cheered. A reporter was let through the press line and ran forward with her microphone extended toward the three of them. Her cameraman scrambled to keep up.

"A few words for the viewers at home?" Thadelion immediately stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. Leo followed his lead. The two of them stood off to the side while Ellaraeth stepped forward to face the camera alone.

"On behalf of the Obsidian Cult, I would like to thank the United States for hosting my brother and me during our time here." Her voice carried clearly across the crowd.

"We will not disappoint your expectations. We will do our best to prepare and compete in the upcoming Grand Formations Summit." She paused, and her expression softened.

"I would also like to thank Boston Garrison for the return of our captured cultivators. It was a gesture of goodwill that we will not forget." She gave a polite bow.

"I like to think there are many commonalities between our two peoples. I hope there will be many more opportunities like this in the future, where we may meet as friends rather than enemies." The crowd erupted.

"Ellaraeth! Ellaraeth! Ellaraeth!" The chant spread through the barriers. Phones waved in the air. Someone near the front cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"WE LOVE YOU ELLARAETH!" A faint pink crept across her pale cheeks. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, but not before Leo caught the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Once inside, Professor Vogt gave the three of them time to meet and greet. Apparently the large crowd had made it inconvenient for their formations tutor to arrive, and he would be delayed until tomorrow. So their only task was to socialize. Thadelion was the first to break the ice.

"I've been dying to meet you," he said, dropping into a chair with the casual sprawl of someone who had never been told to sit up straight.

"Harry told us so many stories." Leo blinked.

"You know Harry?"

"He was the lead of the diplomatic mission," Ella said. She had taken a seat across from her brother, her posture considerably more refined.

"He gave us nicknames too. They seem to have stuck." A small smile crossed her face.

"You may call me Ella."

"For me, Thad." Thad grinned.

"Harry said it suited me." Leo suddenly understood why everyone at the Yale Bulldogs had a nickname.

"I hope he said good things about me," Leo said.

"A lot of people talk about you." Thad leaned forward.

"The Obsidian Cult is still incredulous that a Qi Refining cultivator could affect the battle in such a dramatic way." His leaned forward.

"Did you really kill six Nascent Souls? There's no way that's true." Leo shrugged. He started counting on his fingers.

"Caelanthir, Faelindros, Mirathiel, Vaelithorn…" Ella gasped.

"You took out Caelanthir?" Leo looked a little concerned.

"He wasn't your favorite uncle or anything?" Thad winced.

"No, he was some old crotchety warmonger. It's kind of fitting he died in battle." He leaned back in his chair.

"How did he go?" Leo smirked.

"Honestly? At the end he begged for his life." Thad laughed.

"Serves him right. Leo, my man, that's the most impressive thing I've ever heard. Honestly? The only reason I came is because I want to learn to be a Flyer." He reached into his coat and pulled out a sword. The blade hummed with the unmistakable resonance of a lifebound weapon.

"I already bonded with a sword. I just need someone to engrave it." Ella's hand shot out and smacked him on the shoulder.

"You are supposed to be here as a formation master," she said, her voice sharp.

"The Eternal did not bless us with abnormal divine sense just so you could flap around like a flying monkey."

"Yeah, yeah." Thad waved her off.

"Every day you sound more and more like Mother." Ella's eyes went cold. Leo jumped in before blood was spilled.

"I know Enzo Ferrari," he said quickly.

"Lord Ferrari personally engraved a flying sword for me. I can ask if he'd be willing to do yours."

"Ferrari?" Thad tilted his head.

"I've heard the name. A lot of your cultivators on the front lines use his weapons." He scratched his chin.

"Harry mentioned you flew a La Ferrari Eclipse when you faced Mateo."

"I can introduce you," Leo said.

"If you want."

"That would be appreciated." Thad nodded.

"But I have a question first. How do some Flyers move like that? Like lightning, changing direction without any warning." He gestured vaguely with his hands.

"You call it third person perspective?" Ella watched the two of them for a moment. Then she reached into her robes and pulled out her phone.

"I will leave you two to your toys," she said, not looking up.

"I have my own to explore." She tapped at the screen, her violet eyes reflecting the glow. Harry had called it a "phone." Vicky had called it a "gateway to infinite distraction." Ella was beginning to understand why.