Sovereign of the Karmic System

For the days that followed, the two factions, unaware of each other's true goal, prepared for first contact.

The Lord of the elementals, informed of the cultivators' unwillingness to heed his warning, mobilized his most capable followers. Armies composed of thousands of ancient elementals, each capable of shaping a planet into a world fit for their kind.

In the eyes of a regular cultivator, each of these elementals was a treasure trove. Composed of the purest form of their element's comprehension, these beings were personifications of their elements.. powerful enough to demonstrate it for others to learn.

Fire elementals capable of walking on the surface of stars, spatial elementals capable of catching darting asteroids into a planet's gravity pull, dark elementals capable of merging into the depths of black holes. Few were the limits in the control such an army had over their surroundings, making it clear why they would be unwilling to share a universe with beings who, at some point, would stop seeing them as the forces of nature they were, and start looking at them as precious resources.

While their power was enviable, however, the cultivators weren't worth any less.

Born among feelings of curiosity, greed and brutality, these mortals followed a path of overwhelming power. A path fueled by the impartial and infinite power of mana that would nurture them, and help them reach much higher heights than the elementals could in the same amount of time.

It was in fact their speed of cultivation that made the idea of sharing the universe with cultivators an impossible goal for the elementals. Even if the leader of the Immortal Armada was willing to agree to such a deal, that outcome would be short-lived. Who was to say that, a million years from now, the new leader of the Immortal Armada, would not decide that the deal they had no longer satisfied them.

History was long, and lost in its nearly infinite progression similar agreement had been made. Of a similar event ending in anything but the elemental's destruction, however, there was no trace.

As he traveled through space alongside his personal guard, the Warlord of the Immortal Armada had considered this. What if the elementals were just like them? What if they had found this universe, freed it from its native cultivators, and took it as their new home? An oasis hidden within a desert that only offered death to their kind, even before the war between aspects of existence started.

While he could empathize, however, the Warlord had to take a hard stance. He and his people had traveled the multiverse for close to two thousand years, hoping one day to stumble upon a newly opened universe they could inhabit.. Whenever they did find one, it would inevitably be stolen by one of the domains soon after, but this time was different.

Despite being too busy following their deities into war, the domains had not failed to notice this new universe, yet, they had decided to ignore its existence. Whether that was because it was on the path of destruction of Horror's domain, and were unwilling to waste troops and resources to face the incoming monstrous stampede, or because expansion lost priority, the Warlord could not tell.

All he knew was that abandoning this universe meant having to jump back into the storm, hoping none of its brutality would brush over his people. Of being able to once again leave it, he doubted it.

—--

Blue Galaxy, somewhere between the Armada's flotilla and To'Han's system Xia.

Uncharacteristic of the Armada's vessels, the Warlord and his personal guard did not travel within a spaceship, but on top a single arming sword. A double edged sword two hundred and fifty feet in length and eighteen feet in width, on top of which stood three orderly rows of cultivators that counted ninety-nine in number.

By the tip of the sword, rounding up the number of cultivators to an even one hundred, sat the Warlord himself. Now clothed in a pristine military attire, with his long hair gathered into a grizzled bun that threatened to fall apart the very moment the sword's speed was pushed a little further.

For the past few days, his deep eyes had been aimed at the space that lay before him, stable, almost unreactive. No matter how many colorful chemical mists or spectacular events they witnessed in their journey, his eyes never moved. His men, of course, did not dare interrupt what he was doing.

What had occupied the man's attention, was not what his eyes landed on, but the thoughts that had formed in his mind.

It was only when it was clear that his train of thoughts had come to a halt, that a member of his personal guard, a middle-aged woman with long  purple hair and emerald skin said, "Warlord, what is our mission's objective, exactly?"

"What do you mean?" The Warlord inquired.

The woman looked back at her companions, who were staring at her with as much confusion as her original question was charged with. "Sir, I have spent the past two centuries following you at arm's length. I know you don't underestimate the enemy.. And we are far from being enough for a proper retaliation. I was wondering if you perhaps were hoping for a.. Diplomatic resolution?"

"Preposterous! Those things wiped out millions of people already! Mortals, low level cultivators.. Turned into charred bits and bloated corpses! To hell with diplomacy!" Blurted out a second member of the personal guard. A tall black-haired man in his early twenties dressed in tightly fitting clothes that could hardly hide his impressive athletic frame. Under a pair of flaring thick eyebrows, the young man's devilish eyes thirsted for vengeance.

A third cultivator, a one-eyed bald man standing by the middle of the left row added, "What we do is up to the Warlord, keep your opinions to yourself, youngun."

"What did you say!?"

"You heard me, punk!"

"I-"

The purple-haired woman's question had set something into motion. Feelings of anger once repressed were released, only bound by how much loyalty and trust these cultivators placed on the figure they followed. The more they trusted the Warlord, the more their anger was aimed at those who were letting themselves be blinded by it.

Soon, this back and forth turned into a ruckus, as more and more of the cultivators took part in it. A ruckus that grew in magnitude by the second, but that soon found its untimely end the moment the Warlord raised his hand, waving it over his right shoulder. "That's enough.." he muttered in a low tone.

The ninety-nine warriors looked at the man's back rise, as he inhaled, then exhaled a heavy and nostalgic breath. They paid attention.

"I used to be part of a group once.." The Warlord reminisced. "Before I created the Immortal Armada.. A group led by this kid. Not large like the Armada.. Small. A few hundred thousand minds, hoping to survive in our own patch of space.. That is all we wanted." In the Warlord's eyes, images of a once stable space, not unlike the one that appeared in front of his eyes, suddenly fell apart, shattering like a boundless mirror. "I have long forgotten the faces of the people I was the closest with.. They are but a blur now. Even my daughter's."

"What I can recall clearly, however, was the group itself. No distinction between cultivators, ancient beasts, aliens, mortals.. Elementals. Under the kid's guidance, we lived peacefully. That was the vision on which the Immortal Armada was created."

As he finished speaking, the Warlord slowly turned to his side, just enough for the figure of the black-haired young man to appear in the corner of his eyes. "Kyle, what did you specialize in, when training for my private guard?"

Surprised by the sudden interest, the young man named Kyle straightened his back-He then answered, almost robotically, "Mastery of swordsmanship, perfection of spearmanship, perfect comprehension of fire, metal and thunder."

"Anyone else, adept in either one of the natural elements?" The Warlord asked while slowly turning back towards the depths of space. He did not need to see it with his eyes, to feel the arms of each of his personal guards being raised. "Everything you have ever learned about the essence of nature was taught to you through the use of a sphere.. A relic, formed by utilizing the remnants of dead elementals."

"That, however, was not how people initially learned to control the elements. No.. They were once taught to us by the elementals." Once again, the Warlord took a short pause. He inhaled sharply, then asked, "Nihala, what are the elementals to cultivators?"

Nihala, the purple-haired woman immediately caught on with her leader's intentions. "From what I know, in every universe, after a sentient race learned the basics of natural essence, they started collecting treasures, looking for more concepts to add to their understanding in hope to reach a perfect comprehension."

"Then?" The Warlord asked.

Nihala's tone turned solemn, "When they run out, the cultivators would eventually start harvesting them from living elementals."

The Warlord nodded. "I have met many elementals before. They are protective of their kind, but their nature lacks hostility.. Or the same cycle would not repeat itself throughout history. They likely have our same goal. To find a universe where they won't be hunted because of another species' greed. Where they can be safe. That I will offer to them."

"Sir, I-" retorted the black-haired cultivator. "They have already attacked us.."

"That they did.." The Warlord responded. "That is why I am here. I will find the voices that have soured these elementals' peaceful nature and eradicate them.. But if that goal cannot be achieved, I will destroy them myself."

The black-haired young man was taken aback. He was the newest member of the Warlord's personal guard, and this was the first mission in which he had been able to participate, let alone speak to the Warlord. The thought that the Warlord's mind could not be opened to the possibility of war had festered in his mind.. But now, his mind was at ease. Regardless of the outcome of this mission, he would put his trust on the Warlord, and fulfill his role without complaining.

As he thought back at his outburst, the black-haired young man almost felt embarrassed.. To a point where he had to say something. "Warlord, next time, feel free to ignore what I say. It is not my place to-"

"That is something you needed to hear.. You, and them." The Warlord interjected before slowly rising up to his feet. "Reveal yourselves." He ordered in a domineering tone, creating a sound wave which expanded in every direction.

This sound wave carried the weight of the man's word, slamming against the entities hidden within the surrounding space. Spatial barriers were shattered, cloaks of darkness were dissipated, asteroids, gas clusters, all brushed past by the cultivator's sound wave.. Revealing the elementals that hid within.

These elementals, shocked by the man's power, did not attack. Instead, they regrouped in front of the now halted sword, and with a respectful attitude, greeted the cultivators. "Welcome to our home, cultivators. What is it that you need from us?" The spatial elemental who stood at the front of the group of mixed elementals asked.

"We have come to greet your kind. Would you lead us to meet your ancestors?" Nihala requested, aware that those were her Warlord's wishes.

No visible changes took place on the smooth mannequin-like face of the spatial elemental, yet the slight pause indicated that he was considering the request. It took over a minute before the spatial elemental turned to look back at Nihala, and with its kin's characteristic aloof tone, responded, "Please follow us."

As he finished speaking, the spatial elemental formed a vast platform of solidified space for the other elementals to use, then directed it towards Xia, the system that housed the elemental's home planet To'Han.

The Warlord and his personal guard followed.