AU: The Original Idea for Gramps (Patreon)

This would have been part of the original epilouge to Vol 1. However, why this was changed should be pretty obvious.

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Two men sat together upon the deck of a ship. One was an older man, with a well trimmed beard, and wearing simple blue robes. He radiated with an aura of profound calm, as he sipped his tea. The other appeared slightly younger, wearing crimson armour. A horned helm was set on the deck beside him, as he sat upon his knees.

Their faces were full of serene calm, even as the deck roiled and pitched, thunder splitting the sky, and the seven colours of the rainbow swirling all around them.

Shen Yu sipped his tea, as the ship heaved, not a hair out of place. He tasted it, and considered it, before he delivered his judgement. “This is excellent tea.” The man in the simple robe declared. His voice was rough and husky.

The man in red armour inclined his head. “‘Tis a pleasant experience, that one shares an appreciation for well brewed tea, Shen Yu-dono.”

The strange suffix swirled across Shen Yu’s mind, imparting the knowledge of it. Polite and respectful as always, this “Samurai”. But out of all of them, he supposed excessive politeness for one so strong was a bearable quirk.

“Indeed. I would ask for a measure, when this business is done, Choujiro no Minamoto.” Shen Yu replied.

It was mostly a formality. Gifts from other worlds were an interesting curiosity.

The ship suddenly pitched, swinging so far sideways that it was nearly perpendicular to the water below.

The two men didn’t react, and yet not a drop of tea spilled. A booming laugh echoed from the helm of the ship. A man, three meters tall stood, fighting with the rudder. He had an impossibly bushy beard, and long, flowing hair. His chest was bare and full of hair, and his bulging arms, filled with muscle, were covered in tattoos. He looked more beast than man. An unstable brute, built only to crush and destroy.

It still smarted that the man had repeatedly won the poetry contests they held once a week. “Nuada! Your eyes are slipping!” The man boomed with good nature. Olaf Jotunblod. Einherjar. One time warrior, the whispered words informed him. A befuddling name, for an equally befuddling man. What sort of cultivator declared that their greatest goal in life was to die?

The woman sitting next to him rolled her eyes, yet there was a tiny smile upon her face. Their navigator. She guided the massive men with light taps through the Sea Between Worlds, most of her effort upon plotting a course. Her eyes burned with visionary power, and the only reason why they were not all dead was because of her ability. She had been the oddest for Shen Yu to get used to. Her skin… it was not the pure white beauty, instead, as black as obsidian, so dark it seemed to drink in the light. It was appealing in its own way, and it was mildly disappointing that she was married.

“That was the smallest swell.” The woman stated calmly. “The others would have dashed the ship to pieces.”

Shen Yu gazed around the deck of the ship. The Blue-Skinned and four-armed Ishir wrestled with the philosopher Leander, challenging each other to feats of strength. They were ringed by a crowd of others, smirking, or cheering on the combatants.

A woman, ethereally white in colouration, stood at the top of the mast. Hae-song maintained the barrier above them, the Murim Warrior’s eyes fixed on what could charitably be called a horizon in this place.

It was all so strange. He had never expected this, when the Emperor called upon him. At first he had been furious.. But in the need, it would all be worth it. Hopefully.

Shen Yu returned to his tea. Though it was mildly flattering that the Emperor and all his advisors considered him the first choice in a coalition that had the strongest representatives from a hundred worlds all brought together.

Or perhaps he was the only one that could be trusted not to cause an incident unless sufficiently provoked? His face slapping days were long behind him, after all.

For an eternity, and yet an instant, the ship traveled through the Sea Between Worlds.

“It is time.” Lady Nuada declared, and suddenly, the sea calmed. The sea calmed, but their ship began to accelerate.

Olaf Jotunblod stood. He locked the rudder into position.

“Can you hear it? Can you hear it? Can you hear how the horn blows?” He asked, his boisterous face calm.

A warning bell sounded upon the deck.

“Can you hear it? Can you hear it? Can you hear how the drum thunders?” he asked, his voice lifting into the air, and his power filling the deck.

Enough power that even Shen Yu had to respect it.

“Can you hear it? Can you hear it? Can you hear how your Soul howls?” He demanded.

Shen Yu and Choujirou-no-Minato rose to their feet. The wrestling stopped.

“Can you hear it? Can you hear it? Can you hear it? CAN YOU HEAR IT?!”

A thousand words for their power began to rise, filling the ship’s deck. Qi. Ki. Prana, Mana, Od, Pneuma. A hundred different cultivation styles. All turned their focus to the front of the ship, and the rainbow waters ahead of them.

They stared at the massive wall that surged up, directly in their path.

“Can you hear it?” Olaf whispered.

The massive ram prow on the ship slammed into the prismatic barrier, coursing with light. The dragon’s head, crafted out of the rarest and most powerful of metals, strained.

And then was through. The barrier shattered, as they punched from the Sea into the sky of a world.

It was filled with twisting madness and corrupted Qi.

The warning bell sounded again. The world screamed, as the demons noticed their intrusion into their world. The Heavens shook. The earth below them heaved.

And demons spilled out.

“Valhalla Calls!” Olaf roared, and leapt from the ship, his eyes burning with madness as jumped. His leap carried him towards a mountain that had stood up, its eyes burning with poison Qi. Olaf’s massive axe fell.

The demon died, a mountain, sundered in two.

That was all that the others needed. The world broke as the rest of the cultivators upon the ship unleashed their might.

The world froze and burned. Arrows shattered mountains. Swords split the sea.

And Shen Yu commanded the very heavens to fall, engulfing everything before him.

AS the world was lost to Qi and Battle, Shen Yu spared one last thought.

He wondered how Little Rou was doing.

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Originally, Gramps was effectively part of the Cultivation Argonauts, taking the fight to the Demons in the Sea between Worlds. I’m very glad I changed this to what we have today.  Some ideas are good, but this just wouldn't work as the story I wanted to tell. too big, too much stuff to keep track of. However, the precursor to BOC, before I found the prompt “the Cultivator Fucks off and becomes a farmer” was called Einherjar—Viking cultivators. I’ve still got my notes on that, so maybe one day it’ll see the light.