The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 215 - The Body Is Sort Of Strong, The Essence Is Somewhat Muddy, The Spirit Is Clear As Qat

Chapter 215: Chapter 215 - The Body Is Sort Of Strong, The Essence Is Somewhat Muddy, The Spirit Is Clear As Qat

The ’veteran’ pressed his cane against the packed earth of the pathways as worn boots scraped the surface, making their way between different practice grounds. Evening brought a different energy to the competition venue - fewer spectators but more focused training.

Those cultivators who had been taking advantage of the tower staff to try their hand at the climb after the ceremony had been sent on their way and the area roped off. Now, many of those same people worked through forms or discussed techniques in scattered groups. Of course, some were simply resting up for tomorrow or celebrating with their companions.

’Here I am, doing neither. How busy of me. Actually, I guess that kissing early was celebratory? It certainly wasn’t restful~’

The girl hiding under the illusion found their target without a lot of searching. Talva er Ryleon’s muscled form stood apart from the clusters of practitioners in the military section. Her arms worked through a precise sequence of Continental Army hand-to-hand stances.

Her blonde hair was tied back tight as she twirled and huffed out between positions. The movements showed off the form of someone who had done them thousands of times. An underlying fundamental of someone who sought to earn their strength.

’A hard worker is hard to hate.’

The ancient cultivator’s spirit reached out carefully from behind her elderly disguise. She marked how the woman’s essence field rippled around her feet with each practiced motion - strong but not overwhelming. Controlled in a way that reminded her of someone else.

Yatrel also did something similar, though more around her arms. A habit likely born from using her Earth Element to hold together gauntlets of the substance. It made it clear that Talva had an Aspect related to something that could or should be related to where she stepped at.

The spiritual voyeur pressed deeper for the secrets of her cultivation.

’Mud. Well, that’s certainly interesting.’

"Good to see the Army still teaches proper foot positioning. Some of these young cultivators, all they care about is looking flashy."

The rasp in the elderly voice carried decades of command presence. Talva’s blue eyes assessed the approaching figure as she all but stood at attention. The insignias the man wore were as good as any letter of marque for a soldier. Two Descents.

"Thank you for your service."

"Appreciate it. But these old bones were just support staff even by the second. Mortals get too old for the front quickly."

The ’veteran’ gestured at the practice dummy.

"Your form shows real experience. Reminded me of watching the training grounds back then. Private Guild styles take more advantage of the sturdier body of a cultivator, but what works effectively even for the ’weak’ is worth learning."

Mint eyes and a cloud of spirit studied every detail of her reaction. The way Talva held her shoulders matched certain habits Elua had observed in her fortress after she came back from her small stint in the army.

The ’veteran’ settled against a nearby post, adjusting the worn insignias with his gnarled fingers. Their presence drew a few respectful nods from other passing cultivators but no interruption. Just another old soldier watching the young ones train.

"You can get back to it, I’ll just take a rest here."

Elua’s spirit coiled tighter as she watched Talva complete another set. The woman’s dedication was clear... but was it aimed toward proper goals? The reincarnator already knew from the probe that this physical resemblance to her wife carried deeper implications.

’Related, but not a Yecine. A maternal relative, for sure. If Qat’s mother also looked like this, then it rather *irks* me that I share an aesthetic sense with Anper.’

She settled herself by considering that man probably did not have a libido. After all, he didn’t have more children after Qat until a whole decade later! The heiress really did not want to think about how amorous activities and childbirth were not a one-to-one affair.

So Elua decided to comment about Talva er Ryleon’s training.

"You know, watching you shift your weight like that reminds me of an old cultivator friend from the support corps. Had a habit of stomping to make puddles - used to joke she was marking her territory, but there was a method to it."

The ’veteran’ chuckled while adjusting his grip on the cane. His raspy voice carried a storytelling tone and several nearby practitioners subtly shifted their attention to better hear. None of them would pass up eavesdropping on a conversation about wartime.

If only they knew how experienced the person truly was...

"I remember when they’d drill us regular troops on working alongside you folks. Lot of us thought we’d just get in their way, but the Army knows better. Knows that numbers can hold the line."

The woman’s stance remained focused on her practice, but she was clearly engaged with listening just like the others.

"When the Voidlings came at our section, those puddles helped us spot the smaller ones trying to charge and flank us. Hard to hide low to the ground when you’re splashing through water. Saved more lives than any fancy moves could have."

The ’veteran’ tapped his cane against the ground for emphasis. The story she picked was a little embellished to be more specific to the scenario she was building, but all good lies held truth.

"Simple tricks often work best. Though I bet working with Mud gives you plenty of options for that kind of thing."

Small ripples in her target’s spirit suggested curiosity rather than wariness at the Element she held being known. The openness about her abilities matched what the ancient cultivator expected from someone with legitimate military service. After all, they keep records of who has what ability just like the Guilds do.

’At least that little reaction suggests she has nothing to hide. Which means if she does get guarded later...’

"Yes. Simple tactics work. Though these days they also have us drilling more complex coordinated attacks."

Talva finished her movements and shifted to face the ’veteran’ properly. Her shoulders remained straight, but her posture had eased. From pure military bearing into something more conversational.

With her respect edged with kindness for her elder.

"The methods in them change, but the core principle stays the same. Protecting those who can’t fight to protect themselves."

"Good to hear that their teaching hasn’t changed. I noticed your approach during the tower climb - that tight-to-wall positioning they teach for siege work."

His gnarled fingers gestured upward, faintly mimicking the posture as much as he could.

"The way you kept your center close and tested each hold before committing. Classic Army technique for scaling upward under fire. Smart using it for the competition - keeps you stable even when those water traps go off."

A hint of pride flickered through Talva’s spirit at the praise of her practical approach. None of the defensiveness that often came with settling for ’simple’ techniques. Her blue eyes held steady as she responded to the old soldier.

"The Army teaches what works. There is no point treating a competition climb any different from fieldwork - especially with real Descent preparations coming."

She shifted back into her starting stance, showcasing the first form of the hand-to-hand technique. She kept her gaze on the ’veteran’ rather than the practice dummy.

"Some of the families here talk about upholding traditional forms, but those forms came from somewhere. Usually from what kept people alive."

The words carried the particular weight of someone who had clearly given the topic consideration. A soldier’s viewpoint. The woman nodded as though she felt her point had been made before standing straight again.

’Interesting. She thinks on practical terms like my fortress, but lacks that thread of family pressure.’

The illusion nodded slowly back while tapping his cane against the ground. His mint eyes watched another cluster of nearby practitioners as they moved through their combat forms. She wouldn’t call the Continental Army’s methods the absolute most effective, but it was solid.

"True enough. Though I suppose some might say that’s why the families keep those traditions. To remember and honor what worked."

"They can keep their traditions if they want. Our job during the Descent and even after is to protect everyone - cultivator or mortal; rich or common."

Her voice carried conviction and a touch of criticism. These weren’t obviously borrowed words or a recited doctrine. At best it was a personal philosophy and at worst some brainwashing.

Of course, the ’veteran’ noted how her spirit remained steady even while critiquing those with more political influence. There was usually some subconscious fluttering if their innermost self disagreed with what they were saying.

"When I was young, one of my instructors said something similar. Said the real measure of a cultivator was what they did with their power."

His hands adjusted the insignias and again drew her attention to the accouterments of his service. Part of it was to see how much desire for them she had... and Elua wasn’t disappointed. There was a soft ’yearning’ for the day that Talva would wear her own as proudly.

"Some things don’t change much between Descents. The big families still dominated the top ranks across all three regions today."

The ’veteran’ kept his tone casual as he gestured toward the central area with the cane.

"That Yecine heir’s approach to the final stretch was something else, though. I don’t know how they did it, but it’s not often you see someone willing to risk a proven path for an untested method."

The blonde’s spirit rippled with something more complex at the mention of Qatrand. But the illusionist wasn’t done prodding. The ’veteran’ let his tone turn mildly apologetic, as if caught out by what he had just said.

"Third place was nothing to dismiss either. Especially when competing against those who’ve had private training since childhood."

’Now... what matters more to you - the placements, or the one who placed ahead.’

"The Yecine heir earned that second place finish."

Her words held a respect untainted by resentment. If anything, the ripple in her spirit had settled into something warmer at getting to discuss the Yecine’s performance. Elua imagined that people the woman knew had probably been avoiding any mention of Qat.

’How dare they not talk about my beloved openly just to spare the feelings of this next place loser!’