Chương 118: Chapter 2.55: Hidden Blades

Serran and Antonius led the group side by side, and Favius recognized a few of the scribes. It took half an hour for the man in charge to be notified. Not sure if that's good or bad. The group stopped at a respectful distance, and only Serran stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"Greetings, my Lords Cultivators. May I assume..." He looked over to where Favius's sisters and the new Cultor were fussing over the hives.

"... that I have already gained another cultivator?" Favius smiled and nodded, but before he could get out a word, Caliga's outraged interjection could be heard.

"No, you haven't gained a cultivator, Serran. I..." She paused, straightened, and took several steps towards them.

"... have gained a cultivator." The four aristocrats grinned broadly as they observed the showdown between the fourteen-year-old and the middle-aged Majordomo. Yet Serran did not miss a single beat.

"Of course, Young Lady. He is yours to direct as you please. Yet surely..." He gave Caliga a winning smile.

"... you wouldn't mind me making use of his new talents at times?" Caliga stroked her chin with comical exaggeration and glared at the Majordomo from beneath furrowed eyebrows.

"I might be convinced to do so, Majordomo." Serran nodded, but Caliga raised two fingers.

"For a certain fee." Everyone burst into laughter, and Favius even saw the side of Antonius's mouth twitch. Looks like some parts of my lessons on capitalist economics stuck far faster than others. Following this final encounter, Favius left towards the workshop while the cultivators talked about the preparations for the evening with Serran. As the sun was closing in on the Rhexar Mountains in the late afternoon, Favius met with Brutus at a side gate of the estate wall.

He ran his hand over the smooth concrete plaster, holding a wooden box in his arms. Brutus raised an eyebrow as he stood beside him.

"Are you getting tired of your regular meetings with your workers yet, boy?" Favius stared daggers at the man for several seconds before sighing.

"It's not always fun, but it's necessary, and we are improving."

"Oh? What glorious new changes have you brought this time?" Favius rolled his eyes.

"Brutus, I'm not bringing the changes. I'm mostly..." He raised his free hand.

"... facilitating the moderation."

"So you've moved on from moderating the discussion yourself?"

"Well, they are slowly learning that they are supposed to do it all themselves. They're slowly learning to talk without constantly trying to please me." Brutus rubbed the back of his neck.

"I would call you naive, but something certainly appears to be working." Favius lowered his voice and leaned against the sun-warmed wall as he looked over the foothills of the mountains.

"Yeah, I honestly feel some of my plans might have been too ambitious." He handed the box over to Brutus as they began walking up the familiar path towards the hilltop.

"Too ambitious in what way?" Favius sighed.

"It seems my idea of rotating everyone into leadership positions... Well, a lot of people like it, but some people..." He let out a long breath while Brutus snagged several figs from a tree standing by the roadside. He offered Favius one, and both of them chewed and swallowed in silence before Favius continued.

"We've moved to a system where everyone can volunteer for a position in the leadership rotation of a work circle. And I made sure that at least a third of each circle is actually trained in leadership. But beyond that..." He shrugged.

"The meetings are getting routine." He smiled at Brutus.

"The Book of Issues is doing its work, and a lot of the meeting was just making official what had already been decided with marks of approval in the book."

"Well, that kind of book is certainly an interesting innovation. I wonder, do you think it might be usable within the military?" Favius looked up at the clouds in consideration, and the conversation continued until they reached the plateau again. They made it into the rocky debris where a few sparse pines remained and scrambled down onto the canyon ledge. This time, Brutus lit the torch at the entrance of the cave, and again they scrambled down into the underworld.

With his owl eyes and the torch, Favius had little issue finding secure handholds between cracked rock and stalagmites. They again settled in the cave, and Brutus's aura enclosed them as Favius studied the muddy pond. All the water is gone. Well, it hasn't really rained since we were here last. Brutus cleared his throat, and the light of the torch made the liminal shadows dance. The aura's violent electrical taste stung Favius as he saw Brutus's bearded face settle into deadly seriousness.

The man leaned forward, his axe on his lap.

"Favius, I want you to know that if you want to start a civil war, you need but say the word."

"What?" Favius gasped, flinching backwards in shock.

"In fact," Brutus nodded.

"There would be no starting. We would be certain to win if we did it correctly." Favius stared at Brutus, his heart beating rapidly. A civil war? Where the fuck did that come from? What is he going on about? Then Favius froze. The other cultivators were certainly looking for action. And if people are coming... Oh, fuck. Marcus is not going to be happy about this.

"Isn't it..." Favius began, his voice carefully neutral and his hands raised. But before he could settle on what to say, a grin split the cultivator's beard. The torch flared brightly with the man's aura.

"I just wanted to see your expression, boy." He laughed and slapped his thigh.

"It was as hilarious as always." The laughter echoed back ominously from the cave walls, but Favius still stood there, his thoughts racing. He's making a joke, but I don't think the other cultivators were actually joking about this.

"I guess," Favius began, "your joke, like all good jokes, has a basis in reality."

"Indeed. I may have only invited a dozen people, but I think many of them decided to… misunderstand my request for support."

"Misunderstand?" Favius asked with raised eyebrows. Brutus sighed and leaned back. The fire died down to half its size, and the shadows crept in.

"Getting dozens of powerful cultivators who supported the dictatorship together in the aftermath of the Iron Phoenix's death..." He shook his head.

"That would be seen as just cause for interference and be considered equal to treason, no matter our intent." Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"But"—he raised his axe and tilted the blade as it reflected the torchlight—"supporting an old friend's ascension to Transcensor at the estate of a constitutionalist Senator who vocally opposed the dictatorship at great personal cost..." The man's white teeth flashed predatorily in the gloomy light.

"That is much more innocent. Nobody could oppose that. After all, it is a sacred tradition to guard your comrades during a meaningful breakthrough." Favius let his head collapse into his hands and leaned on his knees.

"Brutus, how many are coming?" he asked. The cultivator chuckled.

"That depends."

"On what?" murmured Favius in a resigned tone between his fingers.

"On what you want to do. After all, I was joking about the civil war, but we could really do it. We—" Favius raised two fingers and stared at Brutus.

"If I remember correctly, the Constitutionalists killed all your political leaders. So even if we win, Brutus, I'm not even beyond my first majority. I would certainly not be seen as qualified to become a new dictator. Hell, if what Marcus recently told me about the Cursus Civitis is correct, even the dictator was overstepping the bounds of tradition by taking on the office without a prior Consulship." Brutus flicked his hand.

"The Golden Road through the Republic is much more flexible than many a philosopher would like you to believe. He would have earned a Consulship upon returning from the campaign. We just..." Brutus placed his second hand on the axe head.

"... accelerated the inevitable." Favius rolled his eyes.

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"They hardly got everyone. They were conservative in their purge, which is the only reason the two of us did not have to attempt a desperate escape into the wilderlands beyond Rhexion following your arrival in this world." The warrior grinned broadly.

"In fact, I believe the two I have in mind will be coming."

"How many?" repeated Favius. Brutus chuckled.

"I will make arrangements to ensure that it is only a few dozen powerful cultivators."

"Marcus is going to kill me for this." Brutus threw his head back in laughter.

"Given who is going to be attending, rather unlikely. And in fact..." Brutus studied the impenetrable darkness above them.

"While he might feign outrage, I do believe your father will soon come to see the opportunity inherent in this little gathering." Favius looked up at the ceiling as well. Those people and their politics of betrayal and patronage. Given what I've seen of Valeria and Serpens, he was always the most moderate among the constitutionalists. And there is nothing more deadly after a revolution than being a moderate in the winning coalition of radicals.

"Not to insult you, but it's great that you have two people who could potentially rule the Republic in my name, or however you imagine that going. But I've seen your comrades, Brutus. They—" The man raised two fingers.

"—are quite a lot more capable than they made themselves look during their casual stroll to meet an old friend. By Oblivion, let us consider Raukhan. You see a wine-addled barbarian, don't you, boy?" Favius let his shoulders slump.

"I wouldn't have said it like that, but—""Favius, he owns a huge estate and produces some of the most renowned wines in the Republic. And if the cult of Sydian were an official religion in the Republic..." He sniffed.

"Not to say that he would be its High Priest, but he would be in the inner circle of said High Priest for sure." He raised his second finger.

"Duran. You think he spends his time living in the woods and hunting animals?" Brutus grinned broadly.

"He is an ordained priest who has access to the Onarch of Rhexion. He is a demi-Kilorii among an elite ranger unit, and he is still young. Were he more inclined towards political office, he could have been a Senior Senator in Rhexion by now." Favius's eyes widened. Those clowns are that important? Luckily, he kept himself from saying that as Brutus raised a third finger.

"And Phaidros? He is the heir to my family." Favius narrowed his eyes.

"How can he be the heir to your family? For that matter, why did he take your name instead of your sister's name, instead of having her marry into his family?"

"Those are the usual norms of the Republic. But you keep forgetting the first rule of this world."

"Power above all," murmured Favius.

"While he certainly loves his homeland, following..." Brutus shook his head.

"... certain events, there is very little love in the city of Verdant Hills for their greatest living athlete at the moment."

"So he's in exile in the Republic," Favius continued, "but as I understand the whole status game here, wouldn't it have..." Favius paused and tested the word.

"... humiliated him to marry into the woman's family?" Brutus chuckled and shook his head.

"He may be a vain and pompous glory hound. You felt his presence. You felt the crowds adoring his inevitable yet still fantastic victory." Favius nodded, and Brutus raised his other hand.

"Now consider your father and his cultivation." Favius narrowed his eyes.

"You mean to say Phaidros isn't concerned with status? He's just concerned with being pretty?" Brutus laughed out loud, and again the laughter echoed back ominously from the walls.

"That's a rather simplistic way of saying it, and there's more to it. But he's a man who has very little in the way of an ego when it comes to matters of power." He clicked his tongue and raised the other hand again.

"In matters of glory, on the other hand, Marcus is the polar opposite."

"His authority is regal, absolute, and almost kingly."

"Don't ever let him hear that," Brutus chuckled, "but in his personal life, he's almost plain. He's arrogant, but he's so secure in his status that he considers it not worth mentioning." Favius snapped his fingers.

"Exactly."

"Hence why Phaidros married my sister. Not for her considerable beauty." He smiled.

"But because she's a skilled administrator and can handle all the necessary politics for him to live a carefree life and cultivate towards the heavens."

"There was also, of course, the association he would earn with me and the terror that struck into the hearts of his enemies." Favius shook his head as the man and the boy sat there smiling and contemplating beneath the bone-pale stalactites.

"But back to my original point," said Brutus, interrupting Favius's contemplation of his uncle-in-law. Or whatever the correct term for what Phaidros is to me would be.

"When I mentioned they would be a force you might command, I wasn't exaggerating. You know that I refined and earned the final two insights of Magnicultor based on your suggestions, Favius. Based on your Earth knowledge." Favius nodded, and the cultivator's smile broadened visibly.

"What I haven't told you is that I refined seven of my insights using Earth ideas, upgrading them towards greater heights." Favius gaped at the man, his thoughts racing. Oh no. This might not be good. How powerful is Brutus actually getting with everything I'm telling him?

"Why haven't you told me?" Favius asked, his voice less steady than he wanted it to be. A brief flicker of sadness crossed Brutus's face, but then he shook his head.

"You have not yet quite comprehended how private an affair cultivation is, Favius. We have all been unusually open. Even me sharing this is an enormous act of trust that you barely seem to appreciate." Favius raised a hand, but Brutus cut him off with a gesture.

"Not that I mind. Appreciate it as little as you want." He smiled wolfishly.

"As long as you keep giving me new inspiration for more insights." Favius blinked slowly.

"Oh, that's your plan?" he said. The flickering torchlight brightened along with Brutus's smile and aura.

"Indeed." Favius considered. With how personal, restricted, and invaluable cultivation knowledge is... Well, if I find the right people and just hand them insights based on modern science, as I did with Brutus, my sisters, and the workers... Actually, I could probably demand strong oaths of service. He sniffed. Never mind oaths. Their honor code would oblige them to serve and support me in at least some fashion if I handed them more than one significant insight. So that's what he meant with the civil war.

If I create an elite unit of several hundred cultivators based on my insights... The cold of the earth seemed to press in on Favius from all sides before he shook off the shivers.

"You want me to raise them up by sharing insights?" Brutus nodded.

"You have seen the three of them. Do you truly believe it would be difficult for all of them to push up at least one realm with your assistance?"

"Even if that works, you and Phaidros would just be two Transcensors." Favius shook his head.

"That would still be less than ten percent of the Republic's fifth-realm cultivators." Brutus shook his head.

"In numerical terms, yes. In terms of combat power?" He shook his head.

"We might be pushing over a fifth if we could refine ourselves within the realm of Transcensor." Favius raised his eyebrows.

"I thought most cultivators were warriors and fighters." Brutus snorted.

"Which is a path that does not have the best survival rate once you are hunting beasts beyond Transcensor." Of course. Survivorship bias. High-level cultivators are not the most powerful paths. They are the paths that can actually take you that far without getting you killed. Favius considered in silence for nearly five minutes before shaking his head.

"No. It's still too risky. I already rejected a quest like that from the Entity." He involuntarily looked to the very edge of his peripheral vision.

"Creating powerful cultivators might be useful, but it's always going to create political tensions and put a target on my back. And never mind that. A civil war, no matter how certain you are, Brutus, is always a risky affair. Even if all goes well." Brutus nodded.

"Dominus, do not fully reject the idea yet. Meet everyone. Wait for me to ascend. Think about who among them is trustworthy and aligned with your goals."

"Sure, a limited approach sounds safer, but it still creates the same problem. People aren't stupid. They'll figure out where all those new insights and ascensions come from."

"Haven't you been listening? We'll be selecting trustworthy people, and they will only upgrade existing insights and prepare new ones without attaining them, so they can rise in power quickly whenever you need them to." Favius's eyes narrowed, and he studied the pitch-soaked fabric of the torch. That's not actually a terrible idea. His eyes followed a swirl of smoke as it travelled into the darkness. Creating a hidden elite unit that's personally indebted and loyal to me. Fuck, this thinking is infectious.

But he isn't wrong.

"You've got me, Brutus. It's probably prudent to begin working on something like that."

"Don't worry. I will ensure that, despite how many guests Marcus will be receiving, the entire affair will run smoothly." They nodded at each other, and Brutus tapped the box Favius had brought down into the cave in his satchel.

"Now, shall we see how much my brothers have mistreated Serran's perfectly good food, and what else the night brings?" Favius nodded, and they scrambled up the shaft. Brutus put out the torch with his hand as soon as the rays of the exit reached them. Carefully holding onto the handholds, Favius scrambled out of the crack in the rock face and studied the red-orange glory the setting sun painted over the distant peaks of the Rhexar Mountains. He smiled and began climbing.