Chương 57: Chapter 1.57: Singularity of Purpose

Favius narrowed his eyes. I'm really not in a mood to do riddles. Yet he diligently maintained a smile.

"The right question," he murmured. Aelia tilted her head in a very bird-like gesture. It hit him. The evening of his arrival when Marcus had come, Lavira leaning in close to him. If you ever need help, seek out my family. This was her family, so... Excitement rekindled in his stomach, and he couldn't help but grin despite everything.

"You mean... you can help me develop my shifter abilities? And those of my siblings?" he added hastily. For a terrible few seconds, Aelia maintained her mask of polite curiosity. Favius's eyes went wide. Did I say something wrong again? Finally, she grinned and petted him on the arm.

"Yes, indeed. I believe that to be a fitting reward. Normally, I would not do it, as in my clan we do not train the children before puberty, but..." She made a dismissive gesture.

"Many other clans do. It is nothing but a matter of traditions and philosophies." She tapped a single finger to her lips before smacking them together.

"Yes, I believe there is a position in Marcus's household filled by a rather incompetent tutor. I know just the person to send you to help with your education." The woman's eyes glittered for a brief moment. Favius returned the smile.

"Thank you, Grandmother." But his thoughts were already racing elsewhere. She's in a talkative mood. And I've learned almost nothing about shifters. Apart from reading that scroll. I've been focused on cultivation. So...

"So about the tutor."

"Yes?" inquired Aelia with an indulgent smile.

"When I developed the mathematics that Urania mentioned, he dismissed them and said that my skill was nothing but my shifter traits. He said I must have an intelligence enhancement. Can you sense such things?" Aelia snorted.

"Norvius Lector. That little rat." She sniffed.

"No, Favius, you gained nothing from your bloodline except the physical traits you can see."

"Nothing?" he said, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. His Grandmother and Brutus snorted in unison.

"I wouldn't quite call night vision nothing," said the cultivator dryly.

"It is a great advantage you have over us humans." Favius hummed, but Aelia clicked her fingers and looked across the hall.

"Your sister, on the other hand... I could quite clearly sense a spatial awareness alongside a general intelligence mutation in her." The familiar tightness of envy clawed the inside of Favius's stomach. Why is it always my sisters who get ahead on this? First Caliga with cultivation, now Urania.

"So she just got lucky?" Favius asked, but Aelia made a weighing gesture of her hand.

"The reason we and many other clans do not train our children before the changes of puberty are done is that the latent power in the blood awakens most strongly during that time. I do not believe Urania has a good chance of gaining more than a single additional mutation in the course of puberty. You, on the other hand..." She narrowed her eyes, and Favius again felt the floral presence of the oak's shade.

"I would hardly be surprised if by the end of puberty you had two. No, no. Most likely three mutations. Which," she continued as a grin spread over Favius's face, "is why I have most of the shifter training in our clan done after puberty. So we can align it with the needs of the mutations that are present." Favius bit his tongue. When puberty is over. That means when I'm sixteen or seventeen. He pouted. Yet both powerful cultivators just laughed.

"Don't be too greedy, boy," Brutus said.

"You are already a cultivator, after all." Aelia hummed in agreement, and Favius recalled something else. His eyes went wide.

"If you are the Matriarch of our clan, does that mean you can turn into an owl? Can you fly, Grandmother?" he asked and bounced on his feet, the events of the party suddenly far more distant and far less important than the potential of seeing the earth from above under his own power. A strange melancholy settled over Aelia's face, and Favius could have sworn that she slumped for a moment.

"No. No, child. I cannot, and I never will." A lump formed in Favius's throat.

"We cannot do it? We cannot learn to turn into a bird and fly?" She laughed.

"No, it is merely that I cannot do it. You, with how pure Lavira's bloodline was, very much have the potential to do it." He narrowed his eyes.

"But if Lavira's bloodline is pure enough, then yours..." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. He trailed off and lowered his eyes sheepishly. His Grandmother only laughed.

"Oh, do not worry. My bloodline is among the purest in the clan. Yet the Ancients that can fly are different from me in a way that your protector shares." Favius bit the inside of his mouth, trying to digest the statement. What does she mean? If she is a Matriarch, how can the others be more powerful? But power... He hesitated, considering the displays around him. Power comes in many forms. But before he could continue, his Grandmother turned to Brutus.

"Ovinius Kestrelo, have you not taught your charge the fundamentals of cultivation? That should be all the clues the child needs."

"He has," said Favius quickly, jumping to his protector's defense.

"Very well. So tell me, how does a cultivator progress? In rough terms?" Favius nodded along, an idea clearly crystallizing in his mind.

"Well, Cultors and Praecultors just need spiritual resources and the time to pursue insights. But at the higher ranks..." He recalled the fig tree and the plants outside.

"They need to seek out fresh spiritual ingredients." He looked first at Brutus and then at Aelia, and his Grandmother made a considering gesture.

"That is true, if incomplete. There is another, less tangible factor. The reason why Alticultors and Magnicultors are also referred to as heroic cultivators. They require a certain worldliness and seasoning. Diverse experiences are vital alongside the hunt for ever more powerful, ever fresher spiritual materials." She looked over the room.

"Few of the smooth-talkers in here have what it takes to rip out a monster's beating heart and eat it raw so as to not let a single drop of spirituality drain away after they have hunted it down." Favius couldn't help but laugh alongside Brutus at the absurdity of the image.

"So... you are clearly a Magnicultor, Grandmother," he continued, and then looked between Brutus and Aelia, considering the difference between them.

"But unlike Brutus, who..." Favius trailed off and swallowed. The warrior merely laughed.

"Speak your mind, boy. I am not ashamed. I am proud of it." Favius swallowed and looked down at the floor.

"Is just a warrior. You are a mage, a shifter, and a Consul."

"Exactly," Aelia said with sadness in her eyes.

"Reaching the realm of Transcensors requires a singularity of purpose that few possess. And while my life has taken me to the heights of this world, I am a broad mountain range forever barred from challenging the peaks that pierce the clouds."

"So you aren't the most powerful healer in the Republic?" Favius questioned, and swallowed hard right after he had finished asking the question. Fuck, she was in such a good mood. And now... But Aelia simply laughed.

"No, no. That title would clearly go to my master, the Keeper of the Scorched Grove on Morath." Favius furrowed his eyebrows, but Brutus gasped.

"He is real?" Aelia looked around, and Favius felt the pressure of her oak-like presence intensifying. She doesn't want this to be overheard.

"Oh yes. The man who dwells in the highest caldera on the island. The maker who wrought life from ash. The creator of the island's ash tubers. He instructed me in the highest secrets of the Vitaii when I was challenging the barrier of the fourth rank." Brutus leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "With your ability to sense the cultivation of others, is it true that his power is beyond that of a Transcensor? That he has breached..." Brutus trailed off as Aelia shook her head.

"I couldn't possibly say." She smiled as if at a joke that only she knew. For the first time, Favius saw Brutus swallow, and he could have sworn that the man was uncomfortable. Is he nervous about that? But cultivation only has five ranks? I never even heard of something beyond that. Well, except for the legendary beasts that Brutus mentioned in the forest. He looked at the closest person to a father figure in this world. I need to ask him some serious questions.

To understand the true limits of power in this world. Before his thoughts could continue, Aelia's presence eased up around them. Favius looked up and swallowed as he saw Marcus approaching at a leisurely pace, two contrite-looking girls in tow. He lowered his head as he stopped a few steps from them.

"Consul, I hope I am not interrupting something."

"No, no, we are quite finished, Senator. You may expect the arrival of a new tutor for your children soon."

"I would be honored, Consul," Marcus replied, his face a content mask, not betraying his feelings about Aelia's imposition. Favius exchanged quick looks with his sisters. They shifted nervously. Urania wouldn't meet his eyes. Caliga shrugged helplessly.

"Very well, my son. I have told your sisters to stop distributing their little gifts." Favius narrowed his eyes.

"But why, Father? They weren't—" Marcus raised two fingers.

"I must admit that I was surprised by your little stunt. And furthermore..." He smiled bitterly.

"I would not have allowed it had I been informed. Yet judging it by its results, it was a great success. If not for the duel, the soap would be the single biggest item of discussion here and in the coming weeks among the elites of Cindrath." Favius tilted his head in confusion.

"If that's so, Father, why have you stopped the distribution?" Marcus snapped his fingers.

"That's precisely why I've stopped it. I believe enough soap has been spread around, and handing it to those who were late to seek it out would reduce its air of exclusivity." Favius widened his eyes. He's actually helping us now. Well, Brutus is fond of saying that success and victory forgive all sins, and we've been both successful and victorious today. He ignored the dry bile in his throat and smiled at his Father. Aelia cleared her throat.

"Does that mean there is still some of the supply left?"

"Oh yes, Grandmother," Urania said.

"We've only distributed about half of it."

"Very well." She smiled first at Urania, then at Marcus.

"Ovinius Loran, I must congratulate your estate on this innovation. You surely must be employing a talented alchemist." Her voice had risen, and Favius was perfectly aware of the looks of the people around him. She. Is she claiming my achievement, or is she trying to cover for me? He swallowed. Doesn't matter what she's doing. I should go along with it. I don't have a choice.

"I shall take the rest of the soap for the Academy. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a little donation to my grandchildren's..." She paused, looking at Caliga.

"To your children's purses in exchange?" Marcus's eyes narrowed with calculation. In the end, he nodded.

"It would be an honor to supply the Academy with our soap."

"As it should be," said Aelia.

"After all." Her gaze hit Favius like a falling branch.

"The Academy ought to be the last place where there's a lack of luxury products that improve the looks of the most venerable defenders of the Republic." Murmurs of agreement rose all around them, and suddenly Favius heard the tingling of dozens of bells in his mind. What the…? He remembered the day spent at the market in Cindrath. Did the system just complete the quest? I had to spread an innovation? But...

Indignant anger erupted in Favius's chest, and he couldn't help but gasp out loud, earning a few strange looks. Luckily, he managed to keep the rest of the thoughts in his mind. I prepared everything with the mathematics books. And now handing out pieces of soap to a bunch of foppish aristocrats, that's what counts as spreading an innovation in this new world? Not my primers on measurements and science? Fucking soap! He took a deep breath, let pneuma run through his body, and unclenched his fists.

"Is everything alright?" asked Brutus, and Favius gave him a false, sweet smile.

"Oh, Brutus, everything is just perfect." He looked around and repeated the words with a much more somber tone as he studied the party. No, the battlefield where he had won a major victory.

"Perfectly all right."