Tree of Aeons

314

Year 283

Hoyia was the voice of god in the eyes of men, and when she spoke the people listened, entranced. It was as if she held their hearts and wielded the masses as her limbs. The first victory sparked fear. An army that gained levels from battle, even if it was from the blessings of a higher power, was a threat. Each victory added to their strength, and the nations of Twinspace feared her rise. 

Assassins were sent her way, but just as if to prove her divinity, she allowed an assassin to stab her with poisons while she gave a sermon to the masses. 

The power of Aeon flowed through her, and through it, there was no poison that could match the Tree God’s restorative powers. Each attempt on her life only magnified her position amongst the eager believers. Miracles entrenched her place, and her powers, even if they were executed through the might of the Order’s machinery, only made her seem more godly. 

Hoyia and her group of priests traveled from city to city, preaching along the way. An army walked with her, but cities that received her had already lost the moment she was allowed through the doors. It meant their propaganda had spread so strongly that a city wanted her there. It meant the populace wanted to see god in the flesh, merely to confirm what already lingered in their minds. Faith was insidious as the stories spread they turned into a thought in the hearts of regular folk. And when that thought was confirmed with acts that seemed miraculous, that thought turned into faith. Loyalty. Zealotry. 

Armies rose at the sound of her voice. Hoyia spoke with the weight of the Order.

“I feel like we as domain holders are thoroughly outclassed by how Hoyia’s just bulldozing through the resistance.” Roon watched in a fair bit of amusement. 

“It’s not that simple. The power of priests is more effective in such places. Dense and unhappy. Radicalization is often a response to a perceived oppression, and this world has always had the ingredients for such a cultish explosion.” 

The reason why Treehome hadn’t experienced a surge in cultish behavior was because the old [Lords] and [Kings] had powers that tipped the balance of power. A world with a [system] was inherently unequal, and it was in favor of those on top. 

A cult movement from the grassroots, comprising a mass of peasants and serfs, would never be able to overpower the might of even mid-leveled [Lords] and [Kings] and their higher leveled soldiers. It is why feudalism persisted despite centuries or millennia of civilization. I wondered whether Lumoof and Kafa felt it subconsciously, that this world was ready and that’s why they felt so strongly about it. 

Just like Delvegard was receptive to a Ragnarok-type mythology, Twinspace’s population was sold on the promised land. 

***

The nearby nations raised four more armies, but as expected, Hoyia crushed them, and her army of zealots gained levels along the way. Her stronger army of loyalists was good for us. They added to our strength. Yet, a part of me felt it was so wasteful. 

Unlike Delvegard where the amount of blood actually shed was minimal, Hoyia decided to use the other nations refusal to join and convert to the faith, and their subsequent declarations of war, as a way to hone her men and solidify their loyalty. 

There was camaraderie in fighting together. Friendship forged on the battlefield. Loyalty and awe earned by achieving greatness together. 

It was her tool, her weapon, and she took the playbook straight out of our own history.

Our past. 

Freshka’s expansion became the inspiration for her war, and her small council of priests worked extra hard to produce propaganda. That era, when we came to take over the Central Continent about one to two centuries ago came to be referred to as the First Aeonic Revolution. 

Propaganda was the whip, the masses her workhorses. This was Hoyia’s moment. 

***

Her army of zealots came to be known as the Undefeated Army as more and more zealots were sucked into the cult of the tree. Merchants carried the propaganda far and wide, and the constant string of victories amplified the insecurities of even faraway nations.

In just two years, she had managed to gain control of a quarter of the overpopulated continent. Kings and Lords surrendered quickly, many overwhelmed by her zealots. Some Kings and Lords were dragged out to the streets by bloodthirsty zealots, captured and treated as criminals. 

The strength of Hoyia’s followers grew with each successful expedition, and soon she was surrounded and supported by a fairly large number of level 50 to 60 individuals native to Twinspace.

Hoyia doled out special blessings to those who acted as her champions. Generals, Captains, Administrators, Lords, and even Kings. 

Further away, Hoyia was referred to by those against their expansion as the Temptress of Aeon. Seductress. Succubus. The false prophet of a false god. It was really familiar. I remember being accused in a similar manner, and it was partly why Treeology priests emerged. Back then, I did it out of spite. If the four temples accused me as a false god, I might as well live up to my name and build a faith around me. 

Parallels. 

In life. In time. 

My past struggles with the first crusades was now her inspiration to start a new crusade. 

Life is surely fond of rhymes, even if the verses and words change. 

***

Caval

Ebon and Edna decided to take a leaf out of Alka’s experience, and both decided to try a hand at the art of making swords, the Caval way. The creation of these descendant swords on Caval was a spiritual affair, and surprisingly, it wasn’t really that hard to walk up to one of these swordsmiths and ask. 

Though the actual access to the hero swords itself was heavily guarded and the actual master sword smiths were treated as a member of the faiths of Caval, most individuals were granted fairly easy access to learn the basics.

“They teach everyone.” Ebon listened to a fairly drunk apprentice. “They say they never know who actually has the art of whispering to the sword, to create weapons that the world hasn’t seen before.” 

In the larger cities of Caval, the great hero swords and the knights were given titles, and they were often known as the inheritors of the descendant blades. The swords themselves did not choose their masters and so the best weapons were in the hands of the Kings and Lords. 

But descendant swords ultimately lost their blessings, and so, the great Kings and Lords perpetually needed to replenish their treasury with new blades. But the priest-smiths struggled to forge better blades than what they’d already made. 

For Edna and Ebon, the basic courses in making these descendant blades were pretty much standard steelworking, but with an additional step of prayers. The temples and all the priest-smiths advocated praying extensively and creating altars in the workspace itself to encourage ‘holy’ weapons.

It was an affair so deeply intertwined with superstition and unusual traditions that didn’t really lead anywhere, that the two generally concluded that the Caval swordsmiths were pretty much attacking the issue with mainly luck. Each city essentially built their own superstitions on what worked, but because there was no attempt to share how descendant weapons were made, the locals didn’t really know what worked and what didn’t. Most assumed their current methods worked well. 

For Ebon and Edna, they were both already highly leveled, but making weapons was not their strength. So, Edna approached the former hero companion of Caval, Shuwan, and asked her to accompany them in their journey throughout Caval. 

The former hero companion Shuwan had a whole list of superstitions of what to do and copying them didn’t seem to work. 

Edna wanted to somehow replicate a large quantity of these hero descendant swords and hopefully use it as an alternative means of creating strong weapons. The knights of Caval were also a decently leveled force.

“Actually.” Ebon stopped Edna about a year into their exploration. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about the merits of this world.” 

“Really? Elaborate them.” Edna said. Edna believed that having a wider variety of weapons was helpful.

“Caval is a strong world thanks to the presence of the descendant swords and highly leveled knights, but outside of the growing hero weapon, I think I’ve exhausted any potential avenues  to any improvements here.” Ebon said. “I recommend swapping for a group of high level blacksmiths to learn the local’s way of making these hero descendant weapons and then opening a recruitment center to recruit talented squires who were passed on from receiving their hero swords.”

Edna thought about it for a few days and realized Ebon was right. Caval’s knights had overlap with Edna’s own knight-boosting abilities, but ultimately, it wasn’t all that different. 

Then the demonic invasion occurred. Demonic rifts opened by the hundreds across the vast uninhabited lands around Caval, and we saw the various Caval’s knights in action.

They handled it well, with the senior knights all about level 80 or so,and augmented with powerful descendant swords, it gave the senior knights the ability to match up with the demon champions and win. We did notice one area where they were weak.

Armor.

The hero swords and their descendant swords gave their users tremendous offensive power, but the knights were frail, relying solely on their levels and what little armor they had. Even the swordsmith-priests focused primarily on creating new swords, and so, the development of physical armor for their knights was still fairly basic. 

They had metal armor, plate armor, and all that sort, sufficient for regular non-magic combat, but once their opponents were demonic champions with elemental abilities, the knights died very quickly. This meant the knights themselves and squires would often run into the battlefield itself and try to get hold of the fallen descendant blades. 

For Cavalians, there was a myth that descendant blades significantly boost their level gains.

But for Edna and Ebon, the demonic attack was the best time to get their hands on a descendant blade for their own studies. 

They retrieved two such descendant blades from fallen knights and brought it to a lab for studies.

***

“Took you guys long enough to get one.” The mages and smiths joked as they quickly got hold of one. The two descendant blades were brought to a makeshift laboratory located in the mountains. Caval was a relatively large world with vast uninhabited lands, as the cities’ clustered around old hero swords. So, there was plenty of space for a temporary site or even a node tree.

“We don’t steal. Not where we can help it.” The Aeonic knight answered. 

“Should’ve just sent some spies or thieves and be done with it. But never mind, let’s look at this.”

With a descendant blade in our hands, we were finally able to dissect their components. It took the mages and smiths a few weeks, but eventually we had a single point of reference.

The descendant blades were actually similar to my [familiars]. They were offshoots of the main hero sword, and each of the blades contained a single mote that linked the descendant blades to their main blade. In fact, it was even possible for someone with star mana to trace the connection to its parent blade. 

Like familiars, they could gain strength over time, because even my familiars were able to accumulate levels, though they were capped at a fairly low level. For my Valtrian Order operatives, this meant my familiars were always this additional source of strength since each familiar had skills they could tap into. 

The discovery of the Artificial Souls and later the Titans, had increased the level cap much further. 

That partly explained the spiritual and ceremonial aspects of the creation of the descendant blades.

It needed a ceremony. A ‘contract’.

It was also likely that each city had their own different superstition because familiar contracts varied widely. A familiar from Aeon had different requirements as compared to a familiar from the Lillies of the Lake or Aria and Aispeng of the frozen islands.

“So how do we exploit this?” The mages wondered to himself as they tinkered with the descendant blade. “We should get a hero from our world here and see what it does. A hero should be able to form a direct connection with the hero swords, even if they are not from Caval.”

It could also mess with the current native city’s defenses. Right now, every town and city relied on their hero swords to ensure that they were protected. 

“Everything is finely balanced at this point.” Ebon said. “I believe we should leave it as it is. Just keep recruiting, while we independently figure out how to exploit these descendant swords. It does make me wonder whether we could have multiple such swords at the same time.”

“I believe not. Ten level 30 to 50 familiars are still not much use compared to a single level 100.” Edna said, “For the Order, at its current state, it is likely not too useful.”

The mage interjected. “But there are Titan-class familiars, even if Aeon hasn’t used it yet. These hero swords are an alternative path to achieve that. That said, its heroic origin may mean there are differences in its level cap that we do not yet fully understand.”

“But can we tell what level these weapons are? Or are they user specific?” Edna asked.

“Conventional [appraise] and [inspect] doesn’t seem to indicate much information, but perhaps something powered by star mana could pierce through its heroic origins to tell us what it is.” The mage-researcher speculated. 

“So we need the heroes here.” Edna frowned. “Let me get this cleared with the rest of the domain holders, and we’ll revisit this issue. For now, let’s do as Ebon intended and have some blacksmiths and recruitment offices set up.”

***

“Aeon, there are two things I’d like to have to improve our expansion on Twinspace. One, please bestow on us a special weapon. A divine relic, so to speak. One that contains your presence and aura to the extent possible. A staff, or a weapon that feels as if it is divinity encased in a weapon. Two, I’d like to request for a Titan to be deployed on Twinspace, as part of a ritual spectacle. Make it seem as if it is a summon.” Hoyia made a request.

“Is there a need for that?” I countered. “Just say it is your petition to me, and I answered your call.”

“Spectacle and ceremony is important, Aeon. It is rituals to cement faith as something real, something part of their lives, something that they can then say they are a part of.”

“Very well. Which Titan?”

***

Forging an item that represented my being was a harder task than I initially expected, as the first few items I made through my normal growing process were decent, but not at the level that my operatives wanted. 

Hoyia’s request required an item that would be a relic. A holy object that is revered, and prayed to. 

So, with Patreeck’s help, I went through all the items I’ve seen so far, and narrowed it down to only the ones from Hawa on his core world of Satrya and Lillies’ death staff, felt like divine items, or close to divine items.

“[Soul Forge] feels like a good place to start. Or the Titans.”

A titan in a weapon was a little bit strange and even if the titan-in-a-weapon would be very powerful, I doubt it would be a ‘holy’ object. I still felt titans and artificial souls as less complete souls, and it didn’t fit the idea of a holy object.

So, [soul forge] it is.

I then spoke to Lillies on how to create such an object.

“It is not hard. One merely needs to cut off one’s self, and shape it into something else.” Lilies answered. “It is like making seedlings. You should soak it, tie up its loose ends. Our bodies all contain a little bit of us. Our things, too. When they are separated from us, what’s left of us within those things decay, but you can stop it.”

Lilies’ answer was not too clear, but I suppose that was a way to start.

Lumoof naturally walked to one of my big branches and snapped one of my larger branches. It was a gigantic segment, and I felt a tiny bit of pain when he broke it off. He then immediately carried it over to my [soul forge], and threw it into the gigantic lightning-struck tree. 

My broken branch was somehow transported into that soul space, where then, I could see what Lillies spoke of. 

Fraying ends, strands within the branch that were quickly decaying. It was as if I stared at a bundle of rope, and now, the little threads that made up the rope were rapidly untangling. Left alone, there will be nothing left of my soul. 

With my [soul forge], it was fairly easy for me to reach out into the branch and meddle with it.

It was then that I realized the branch was malleable. As long as I reshaped the remnants of my soul within, here in the spiritual paste of the soul forge, the wood would follow whatever shape its ‘spirit’ took.

Over long periods of time, the soul is like a slow flowing liquid and takes the shape of its container. It remembers an image of its body. But in the short term, the body takes after and is guided by the soul. Healing, growth, all of that is the will of the soul and its soul spring.

I reached into the store of soul remnants I’ve collected over the centuries and stitched some of that soul remnants into the freshly broken branch. I meddled into the remaining spirit, and I could insert ‘skill seeds’ just like how crafter’s blessed their weapons. 

Interestingly enough, because this was forged from a broken piece of me, the spirit of the branch could hold a few of my own non-domain skills. A true copy linked to my power, a bit like a crystal that’s used to store spells and abilities.

Since Hoyia intended for this to be a weapon of some sort, I added my root strike ability, [Fields of Death], [Demonic Suppression Aura] and some poison abilities. I could feel this branch as if it was still a part of me, and realized I probably could not make too many. These ‘isolated’ spiritual fragments of me were linked to me, and overuse would be a possible drain on my own existence. 

After what felt like two to three months of experimenting, Hoyia finally had an object worthy of a holy relic.

The [Greatstaff of Aeon’s Fury] was finally ready to be wielded, and next year, it was finally time to launch the first sea expedition to the demonic continent of Twinspace.