Not because they lacked the will. The chieftain had thirty-eight cultivators within calling distance, the lowest of whom was Core Formation Early, and the combined output of even three of them should theoretically have been a conversation worth having.
Except.
The ambient output of the man in the center of the clearing — the passive, resting output of a Nascent Soul Mid Stage cultivator with Dragon essence integration at one hundred percent and a three-meter aphrodisiac radius and the specific attentional weight of a consciousness that had been doing this for ten thousand years in various lives — pressed against the clearing's edges with the flat, patient completeness of a mountain sitting in a valley.
You did not tell the mountain to move by wanting it to.
PAAH. PAAH.
'AAAHNN~!!! HISSSS—AHN~!!!'
The second sound was new.
