Divine Beast Ascension

536 Resting Before the Next Round

Through the teleportation circle, Oli and the team reappeared in Permafrost Palace. They were welcomed by palace staff and offered an escort to their assigned rooms, which Zelsh turned down without batting an eye.

Zelsh then led his candidates back into the city and through the crowded streets. There, Oli and the others noticed something new. Flyers and banners were posted all over Avalanche City declaring a contest leading up to the exhibition. When he saw that, Oli sighed and glared at Zelsh.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Oli,’ Zelsh laughed telepathically. ‘To enter that you need the recommendation of either a peak-perennial or a king. And I’m not allowed to recommend anyone due to my position. Only independent cultivators and non-regional kings can submit their pupils for the contest. And they’re only fighting for one of Jeerda’s four wildcard slots.’

Hearing it explained, Oli relaxed again. ‘Sorry for glaring at you…’

‘No problem,’ chuckled Zelsh, pressing through traffic until they reached their destination.

The entire team had mixed feelings when they reentered the dilapidated inn. Though it was comfortable after spending a few moons there, it was still far colder that staying in their offered rooms at the palace.

Raising his hand, Trenk asked, “Master Zelsh, if we’ve already passed the first round, how come we can’t go to the palace?”

“I don’t want you getting lazy just yet! There will be no temperature control during the exhibition, so we can’t have you getting weaker in the warm and cozy palace,” Zelsh reasoned. “Besides, didn’t you two want to see Trantor?”

“Trantor!” Freele booked it down the hallway and rushed to her room.

.....

Trenk took a few steps but stopped himself. “Perhaps, I should wait to see him again…”

Slapping Trenk’s back, Zelsh nodded. “That’s a smart idea. Now, let’s eat!”

The team shook off all disappointment the moment they entered the dining hall to find a feast already prepared. The inn’s food was already well above average, its greatest luxury actually, but it was beyond better than any of the plain food the team had been eating for almost two suns in the frozen wilderness.

As the team tore into the feast, Zelsh sat by Oli after thanking the chef and caretaker. ‘Hey, how was the first round?’

Whilst eating, Oli telepathically replied, ‘It went well. Apart from Trenk needing to leave, we got by easier than expected.’

‘Says the kid that got attacked by a pseudo-perennial,’ jested Zelsh.

Curious, Oli asked, ‘What is a pseudo-perennial though? I thought it was impossible to use divine energy while in the mortal class. Can’t you only have divine or mortal essence, not both?’

‘You’re right. That’s why people only become pseudo-perennials by accident. And once you’re a pseudo-perennial you can kiss gaining a divine core goodbye,’ stated Zelsh. ‘It happens when someone fails to properly ascend to the perennial realm and divine class. Remember, to do that you have to shatter your mortal core and recondense it to form a divine core.

‘You become a pseudo-perennial by failing to fully break your mortal core, resulting in creating a layered core. On the outside you have the condensed divine essence, with a fragment of mortal essence trapped in the center. It lets you dominate elders but cements your cultivation to never grow again.’

Nodding while eating, Oli deduced, ‘Ah, that’s why the panther was constantly searching for a challenge. It assumed that a good challenge might help it ascend again. But it didn’t even know about soul arts, so there’s no way the panther understood the full consequences of being a pseudo-perennial… Is it common for that to happen?’

‘Among wild beasts that don’t interact with any civilizations or societies, it’s rare but you see it happen.’ Zelsh explained, ‘That’s why even beasts use cultivation techniques instead of only relying on their bloodline. Because the leap from elder to perennial is too large. If we don’t eliminate every chance of failure, then a clan risks declining with every generation.’

Oli and Zelsh continued to chat but they started conversing aloud to get everyone’s opinion on the first round.

While the Rot Team was able to relax and eat, a different team was facing a more stressful situation. Five candidates were gathered in a room after a palace servant announced the first three wildcard candidates.

“Good, you’re all finally here.” Hiztor looked at everyone standing around the room. “Hey, Karos, pay attention!”

“None of that matters anymore,” the lynx sighed. “The first round is over, so our ‘team’ is no longer needed.”

“I still need your help! I need more information on the other candidates,” declared Hiztor. “So make sure to gather as much info as possible and tell me everything. That way I know exactly who I’m up against and can take out the competition with ease. If we had done that sooner then we wouldn’t have lost to the Rot Team!”

Shaking his head, Karos looked back at Hiztor. “Really? You couldn’t even defeat Yeter. What makes you think you could’ve beaten their team leader, the candidate even King Rhyner warned you to stay away from?”

The entire team kept quiet but everyone was thinking the same thing as Karos.

“So what! Neither the pony nor that team leader managed to scratch me. Why else was I chosen as one of King Jeerda’s wildcards?”

“Looking at the list, it just seems like all the kings asked King Jeerda to choose their team leaders. And our leader happened to be you. If you used any essence other than earth, I wouldn’t have lost to you,” Karos argued, turning his back to Hiztor while walking for the door.

“HEY! You lost, that’s it! Stop giving excuses or you’re just proving how weak you are.”

“Says the guy complaining that his team was too weak to fight two teams at once…” Snickering, Karos paused his steps. “Oh, and let’s not forget how you argued that we weren’t loyal enough to distract the panther so you could land a good shot. Or how you blamed Rot Team for kill-stealing when we ambushed Permafrost Team in the middle of the Rot Team claiming a hostage from them. For someone so ‘strong’ and ‘powerful’, you sure throw out a lot of excuses on a whim.”

“GET BACK HERE BEAST!” Hiztor roared, stomping up to Karos’s back.

But the lynx flashed away in a blitz of lightning, appearing on the other side of the room. “Hiztor, the only reason I lost to you was because we fought on a raised arena with limited space. If I had wanted, I could’ve drawn the fight out forever because you’re too slow to catch me. So don’t act like you can just fight to solve your problems. Before you can touch me, I would’ve already rushed down the hall and knocked on King Rhyner’s door. Is that what you want, Mr. Team Leader?”

Hiztor was fuming and red in the face. But it wasn’t just Karos trying to leave. Now, after seeing what was going down between the two cultivators supposedly on the same team, everyone else was moving for the door as well.

“F-FINE! I don’t need any of you anyway!” blurted Hiztor, unable to antagonize his entire team.

Karos made sure he was the last to leave the room, scoffing, “Oh, and you’d better be lucky that I used my orb. Otherwise, there’s no telling whether you’d still be alive and breathing after antagonizing Rot Team. Take that however you like, bastard.”

The door closed and Hiztor was left alone. Clenching his fist, Hiztor silently stewed while his thoughts rampaged and imagined crushing his own teammates for their disloyalty.

But Karos and the rest of the Rhyner Team didn’t care about Hiztor. Most of them saw him as the heir to a territory on the brink of decline anyway.

Karos walked back to his room in silence. As much as he wanted to fight Hiztor, Karos knew that it would end in a drawn-out tie at best. And that wasn’t even considering what King Rhyner might do seeing his candidates fighting such a petty squabble in the middle of the province qualifier. Entering his room, Karos scoffed, “Oh… I can’t wait till Galdo Territory dares face Iron to claim supremacy. I hope they dare fight us…”

“We would take them on without hesitation,” a chuckling voice replied, yet Karos and all of his senses couldn’t find the owner of that voice.

However, Karos knew the voice well and didn’t flinch. “Dean Vloz?”

Appearing in front of the lynx, Vloz nodded and smiled. “Karos, do you still want to keep fighting?”

There were plenty of questions spiraling through Karos’s mind at that moment, like how Vloz had snuck into a room inside a provincial palace. But he kept calm. Karos understood how Dean Vloz liked to work “... I would, Dean Vloz.”

“Then keep fighting.” Vloz tossed a small banner to the floor in front of Karos, catching the lynx’s attention immediately. The leopard added, “As a peak-perennial, I can submit you into that contest. But it would mean you represent Iron Territory, not Rhyner Region. Do you understand what that means?”

Karos nodded. As the acting chief of his patrician clan, Karos had spent far more time handling political matters than most young cultivators. “If you’ll allow it, Master Vloz, I would gladly represent Iron with pride, both during the Mortal Championship and after.”

Giving an accepting nod, Vloz walked to the door. “Alright. Then let’s go sign you up.”