Chapter 71: You’re still a boy
Lucas knew the truth that many wouldn’t admit aloud, even in times like these. There were more powerful cultivators within the city, beings who could change the tide of battle within minutes, whose strength was several magnitudes above what the current defenders possessed. He had no doubt that they were watching from afar, weighing the situation with cold logic and centuries of experience. But they would not act unless the situation crossed a threshold, unless the danger to the city became undeniable, unless the wall truly began to fall. It was the cruel calculus of cultivation society, those who stood at the peak did not move unless absolutely necessary. To them, this was not yet critical. Not yet desperate enough.
But to Lucas, it was already too much.
He didn’t need the wall to collapse before deciding to act. He didn’t need to see the city gates trampled or hear the dying screams of the people to feel the urgency choking his lungs. He had always hated death that could be prevented. Perhaps it was a trait carried over from his past life, or maybe it was something buried in who he had always been.
Casualties were not acceptable, not if they could be avoided.
His priority was clear, the horde must not make it through the wall. That was the one line he had drawn for himself, the one purpose burning in his veins even as his body fought to hold the vast Qi he had drawn in moments earlier. The soldiers and cultivators already on the wall were fighting with everything they had. He could see it in their eyes, in the way their forms strained, in the way they no longer hesitated to strike.
There was no lack of courage among them. No lack of resolve. But effort alone was not enough. The numbers of the beasts had not diminished in any meaningful way. For every creature they struck down, three more seemed to emerge from the treeline beyond the hills.
Lucas scanned the line of defenders near him. Most of the cultivators here were between the Adept and Expert ranks. They were skilled, yes, but that strength had its limits, especially when outnumbered by creatures bred for slaughter. Their techniques were refined but lacked the overwhelming might required to thin the horde significantly. Only a few on the wall stood out...three figures whose movements bore the sharp precision and heavy weight of cultivators in the Master Rank.
The Master Rank. A threshold few reached and even fewer surpassed.
On average, a cultivator in the Master Rank was two to three times stronger than an Expert. Their Qi flowed cleaner, their bodies had adapted to the harsh pressures of high-level combat, and their spiritual energy allowed them to unleash techniques on a scale far beyond those below them.
The Master Rank was often where the road ended, many would rise to that level after decades of struggle, only to find themselves stagnating for the rest of their lives. Advancing beyond that required more than discipline. It demanded extraordinary talent, the right lineage, enlightenment, or a stroke of fateful opportunity.