I Can Create Clones

The morning sun had barely crested the city's walls when the first tremors of spiritual pressure rippled through Skyvault City. Citizens paused in their daily routines, looking up from market stalls and workshop benches as an overwhelming aura swept over them like a tide of barely contained power.

In the noble quarter, cultivators of various ranks stopped their morning meditations, their cores resonating with recognition. This wasn't the familiar spiritual signatures of the main family elders they knew so well. This was something else—raw, magnificent, and moving with deliberate purpose through the city streets.

At the gates of the Drake-Starfall estate, Anthony was reviewing correspondence when the ground beneath his feet began to vibrate with rhythmic intensity. The morning letters scattered from his hands as he looked up to see something that defied every assumption he'd held about his family's fortunes.

A procession approached their modest gates with the kind of grandeur reserved for emperors. At its head walked a figure in midnight blue robes that seemed to absorb and reflect light simultaneously.

His bearing was unmistakably noble, each step measured and precise, radiating authority that made even the estate's guards unconsciously straighten to attention.

But it was the spiritual pressure that truly commanded attention. Peak Ascendant rank power flowed around him like a visible aura, causing the very air to shimmer with heat waves despite the cool morning air.

Yet there was something unusual about it—the energy patterns were irregular, as if forced through damaged channels, creating a signature that spoke of both tremendous strength and fundamental injury.

"Aurora!" Anthony called, his voice tight with amazement and confusion. "You need to see this."

His wife appeared at the estate's main entrance, her eyes widening as she took in the impossible sight. Behind the approaching figure, a small retinue of servants followed at respectful distances, their own cultivation levels marking them as no mere household staff. These were peak Elder rank cultivators serving as attendants, a display of wealth and power that put even main family processions to shame.

"Who in the heavens...?" Aurora breathed.

The figure stopped before their gates and spoke, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard despite its measured tone. "I seek audience with Lord Anthony Drake of the Starfall Branch. I am Lysander, and I come with an offer of alliance."

Anthony felt his knees nearly buckle. A peak Ascendant rank cultivator—damaged or not—was requesting audience with him. Not demanding, not condescending, but formally requesting. The implications sent his mind reeling.

"Open the gates," he commanded his guards, his voice finding strength he'd forgotten he possessed. "Immediately."

...

News of the mysterious benefactor's arrival spread through Skyvault City like wildfire. In the Blackwood family compound, Patriarch Aldren was receiving increasingly frantic reports from his scouts.

"Peak Ascendant rank, sir, but the spiritual signature suggests core damage," his intelligence chief reported, sweat beading on his forehead. "He's accompanied by what appears to be a full retinue of high-level servants. The display suggests wealth beyond anything we've seen from independent cultivators."

Aldren's hand tightened on his morning wine cup. "Core damage but still peak Ascendant? That's not possible unless..."

"Unless what, sir?"

"Unless someone found a way to stabilize damaged spiritual pathways without fully healing them," Aldren said slowly. "It would create exactly this kind of signature—overwhelming power flowing through compromised channels."

The implications were staggering. If this mysterious Lysander had discovered such techniques, his value went far beyond simple political alliance. He represented knowledge that could revolutionize cultivation healing.

"Send word to our representatives at the Starfall estate," Aldren commanded. "I want to know everything about this alliance before nightfall."

...

Similar conversations were occurring in noble compounds throughout the city. The Silverbane family's morning council session devolved into heated debate about whether to approach this new player or maintain their distance. The Goldweave family dispatched their finest negotiators to assess whether their recent withdrawal from Drake-Starfall partnerships had been premature.

But it was in the main Drake family compound where the reaction proved most intense.

Elder Cassius stood on his observation balcony, his own Supreme-level spiritual senses straining to analyze the newcomer's power signature. "Fascinating," he murmured to his aide. "The core structure suggests extensive trauma, yet the power output remains remarkably stable. Someone has achieved what our best healers consider impossible."

"Should we investigate, Elder?"

"Carefully," Cassius replied. "If this Lysander has truly mastered advanced healing techniques, he becomes infinitely more valuable than a simple political ally. But if he's aligned himself with the Starfall branch, there may be factors we don't understand."

In another part of the main compound, Valen Drake was explaining the morning's developments to his sons with barely concealed frustration.

"The boy who failed his spirit core test yesterday now has a peak Ascendant rank cultivator offering formal alliance," he said, pacing his study with agitated steps. "Either this is the most elaborate coincidence in family history, or there are machinations we've completely failed to detect."

Kael and Darius exchanged uncomfortable glances. Their memory of dismissing Ethan Drake just two days ago suddenly felt less like justified superiority and more like potential catastrophic misjudgment.

"Father," Darius ventured carefully, "could this Lysander have some connection to... special knowledge about cultivation healing?"

"That's exactly what concerns me," Valen replied grimly. "If he can stabilize damaged cores at will, every family in the region will be trying to curry his favor. The Starfall branch just became infinitely more important than their heir's lack of talent would suggest."

...

Back at the Starfall estate, Lysander had been received in the family's modest but well-appointed reception hall. Anthony and Aurora sat across from their impossible guest, struggling to process the reality of their reversed fortunes.

"I must ask," Anthony said carefully, "what interest could someone of your obvious power and resources have in our family? Our recent... circumstances... have made us less than ideal allies."

Lysander's smile was enigmatic, his damaged spiritual signature masking the true depths of his capabilities. "Your family's current circumstances are precisely why this alliance benefits us both. You need political stability and protection from rival families. I need... legitimacy and connection to established bloodlines."

"But surely the main family—"

"The main family deals in politics and favoritism," Lysander interrupted gently. "I prefer partnerships based on mutual respect and shared goals. Your family's honor and integrity have not gone unnoticed, regardless of recent setbacks."

Aurora leaned forward slightly. "You seem remarkably well-informed about our situation."

"Information has value," Lysander replied carefully. "I make it my business to understand potential allies thoroughly before making commitments."

The words were diplomatically neutral, giving no hint that he was following direct orders from a mysterious benefactor whose identity remained unknown to him. His mission was simple: protect this family and ensure their political stability. The reasons behind those orders were not his to question.

Before they could pursue the topic further, raised voices outside announced the arrival of additional visitors.

"Sir Anthony," Edrin announced from the doorway, his expression mixing excitement with trepidation, "representatives from several families are requesting immediate audience. The Blackwood family delegation insists their business is urgent."

Lysander's expression shifted subtly, the pleasant negotiator replaced by something far more dangerous. "How interesting. It seems word travels quickly in your city."

Anthony felt a surge of confidence he hadn't experienced in years. "Should we receive them?"

"By all means," Lysander said, his spiritual pressure subtly increasing until the very air seemed to thicken. "I'm curious to meet these neighbors who've been so... attentive to your family's recent circumstances."

The Blackwood delegation entered the reception hall with the swagger of those accustomed to intimidating their opposition. Their leader, a middle-aged man with the bearing of successful merchant nobility, approached with barely concealed contempt for the Starfall family's reduced status.

"Anthony," he said without proper formal address, "we need to discuss the immediate renegotiation of—"

His words died as Lysander's spiritual pressure settled over him like a mountain of pure authority. The Blackwood representative found himself unable to speak, his own Elder-level cultivation completely suppressed by the overwhelming power radiating from the mysterious figure.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," Lysander said pleasantly, his voice carrying undertones that made every cultivator in the room instinctively step back. "I am Lysander, and I represent certain... interests... that have recently aligned with the Drake-Starfall family."

The Blackwood representative struggled to maintain his composure as he realized exactly what level of power he was facing. "P-peak Ascendant rank," he stammered. "But the spiritual signature..."

"Is damaged, yes," Lysander agreed casually. "A reminder of past conflicts with those who mistook courtesy for weakness. I find it helps people remember to conduct themselves... appropriately."

The threat in those words was unmistakable. The Blackwood delegation found themselves facing not just a peak Ascendant cultivator, but one whose damaged core suggested he'd survived conflicts that should have killed him. Such individuals were typically either incredibly lucky or unimaginably dangerous.

"Perhaps," Lysander continued, "you could explain these 'urgent' contract renegotiations you mentioned? I'm always interested in hearing how established families conduct business with their neighbors."

The silence stretched uncomfortably as the Blackwood representative realized his position had fundamentally changed. What had seemed like an opportunity to pressure a weakened family had become a potential confrontation with someone whose power could crush their entire delegation without effort.

"I... perhaps we were premature in our approach," the representative said finally. "The contracts deserve more careful consideration."

"How thoughtful," Lysander replied. "I'm sure Lord Anthony appreciates your desire for... careful consideration."

As the Blackwood delegation retreated with considerably more haste than they'd arrived with, word of the encounter spread through the watching crowd of representatives from other families. One by one, those who had come to pressure the Starfall family found reasons to postpone their business until more favorable circumstances.

...

In the main family compound, Kael and Darius Drake stood on a balcony overlooking the city, watching the spiritual pressure disturbances that marked various family delegations retreating from the Starfall estate.

"The talentless boy now has a peak Ascendant protector," Kael said quietly. "How does that happen?"

Darius shook his head, remembering Ethan's unnaturally calm response to their taunts just days ago. "Maybe we missed something important."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Darius admitted. "But I'm starting to think we don't understand as much about power as we thought we did."

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows over Skyvault City, the political landscape had shifted dramatically. The Drake-Starfall family, written off just yesterday as a declining branch with no future, had become the center of attention for every major family in the region.

And somewhere in the modest estate where it all began, a young boy who supposedly lacked spiritual talent continued his quiet studies, reading ancient texts with eyes that held far too much knowledge for his apparent age.

The game had changed, but only one player truly understood the rules.