Fatherly Asura

All that they wished to know could be learned through instinct, or so [Sullen Saber] implied through simple actions.

And yet-

A fool guesses.

The [Broken Dreams Hegemony] offered myriad benefits with its rage. Occupants of this realm, [Spirit Beasts] of sand-like elemental [Constitution] and grainy similarity to the [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] surfaced in droves, lending Fu and inexhaustible tide upon which to temper this technique.

[Sullen Saber] demonstrated once more, telegraphing a blow at what must truly be a glacial pace for one of his esteem.

All [Senses] sharpened upon the connecting slice, a jab that levered his taught fingers into the shape of a sabre’s point and onwards, into the granulated chest of a saffron-hued [Spirit Bear].

It bisected.

Cascaded.

Died.

Shuidi forgot to hum, clacking her frustration instead as their own foe rose from some few strides away, constructed from this realm’s own dusts.

A dream-like [Spirit Fox] towered before them, soft and hazy upon its edges as though something that could not quite hold its own shape. Gaseous without the gentle feel of wind or water within it.

Fu had crossed many things from his list of… admittedly, guesses.

Thus he thrust his own palm forth, barraging the [Spirit Fox] with a desperate medley from the [True Wind God Arts]. He did not command his [Spiritual] dragons to rise, and instead focused upon this shallow mimicry of an immortal’s technique.

Condensed [Mist Qi], [Intent] and a measure of [Profundity] burst from his strike, erupting into the [Spirit Fox’s] form to leave a great hole behind. Such was the flesh of an immortal - granulated or no - that the impact seemed to barely phase it.

Three blows followed before the [Spirit Fox] could react, but the [Fatherly Asura’s] agility would not aid any further than this.

[Sullen Saber] cleaved the beast in twain. His [Spirit Sabertooth] emanated disgust.

Swiftly, Fu bowed. “Venerables, we offer forgiveness. Our lack of fundamental understanding limits what we might hope to affect. The flesh of immortals is unlike that of [Core Formation Realm] cultivators, as though it is the difference between Heaven and Earth.”

A vacant stare might be interpreted as reply, and this is what they received.

“What resonates upon impact, and previous impacts is strange upon my tongue. It seems a gestalt material. A confluence of [Body], [Mind], [Spirit] and [Harmony] that draws from each to create something greater than the sum of these parts,” continued Fu.

“This Gao Shuidi suspects a force of four must be used. Direct damage to each used in concert.”

At this, [Sullen Saber]... no, the immortal only minorly shifted his pupils.

From scattered accounts they knew that [Origin Qi] was this force, in theory, for it was what filled one’s being upon ascension to [True Lord Realm]. A unique energy created by whatever secret process one underwent to reach such a stage.

That which filled a cultivator’s [Core] then on.

But could it not be replicated?

“I recall once attacking the mulched corpse of an immortal. [An Array in One Hand],” he shared. “Try as did, our blade could not scrape even his exposed entrails. Then, we thought it a matter of discrepancy, for we had only that moment reached [Core Formation]. Even now, against these beasts we can scarcely disrupt them.”

Again [Sullen Saber] remained vacant, withering, almost. A look that evoked some sense of disappointment, or disbelief at the present cultivator’s stupidity.

His palms rose, purposefully, as though he were explaining to a child. The jian-point of a palm rose as before, yet now it jabbed into his opposite, open palm. In what was surely dramatic fashion for the stoic swordmaster, [Sullen Saber] rushed the spiked palm through the other, dancing his digits once upon the other side.

Then it drew back, repeating twice until he offered up his stomach.

Hushi impressed his thoughts, seeing this gesture as an explosion or detonation of sorts.

Shuidi, for once, refrained from answer.

“It would not be right to strike you,” offered Fu.

Many levels existed on which this statement was laughable. Perhaps in this short tenure with [Sullen Saber] they had grown familiar with one another, for upon his immovable face he saw these all displayed.

Fu lifted a palm.

🀦

Never had Fu asked on Grandmother Hua’s [Affinity], but it became plain as her prodigious Qi restored three of his missing fingertips, four of Hushi’s arms and one half of Shuidi’s pincers.

“Do you suppose this attempt was admirable?” she asked, finally ending the silence of scolding that had hung heavy since his return.

Fu stroked his whisker, much to Ershiba’s cooing amusement.

Hua did not appreciate her partner’s attitude.

“We sought a method beyond our [Impending Mortality Dew]. To speak on all immortals is folly, but we have come across a clutch that might be exploited this way. The Heavens do not smile on us often, Grandmother, thus we cannot rely on these two factors ringing true,” he explained, masking the pull at each corner of his mouth.

A hum quashed what remained. “Bah. You must think the [Cherry River Sage] blind, Gao Fu. We are aware you succeeded, in part,” she snapped. “Shallow understanding is no thing to celebrate, nor will we remain here for these remaining [Seasons] to mend these reckless actions. Heed this lesson well.”

“This Gao Shuidi offers her aid to Grandmother,” interjected Shuidi.

Ershiba’s beak clacked in mimicry. “Before offering aid, one must study their own house three times, no? All that needs done does not require your constant company.”

The [Spirit Crab] dipped.

“Then we will take no more of your time, unless required,” said Fu, bowing. “A thousand gratitudes, Grandmother, venerable Ershiba.”

As Sect Leader, or Patriarch as his disciples had begun to call him after the first grand [Beast Tide] of Jade Songbird Province, he had been negligent. Indeed his [Primordial Law of Tribulations] had pit many on a Path towards his own [Heritage], and amidst this current sea of troubles he had been absent to witness it.

Mirth washed through Hushi as they came upon a fitting sight.

That of Cloud Dragon Hall’s nigh-empty, fog-rich courtyard. Rhythmic impacts rocked the mist about what few disciples remained here as they graduated through the motions of the [True Wind God Arts] and [Tempestual Phantom Tribulations].

Prideful whorls blew.

Despite the passing of many hours, Kang Jae and Shaokang had not returned, meaning that no discussion on [Constellation Seeds] and their associated posterity could be had. Yet it was a fool that allowed his juniors to ignore their foundations.

“Patriarch,” greeted a voice, showing that Jihu Wanjie had broken from her training to meet him.

Fu nodded at the young Vajra woman and her azure [Spirit Lion], observing her through [Immortal Arbiter’s Soul]. “Disciple Wanjie. Such diligence is admirable,” he said, gesturing to the late moon above them. “Your grasp of Cloud Dragon Hall’s techniques are impressive, though it it unsurprising given that you still train at this hour.”

“These disciples are unworthy of praise,” she clasped.

“Oh? Are you correcting your Patriarch?”

The [Spirit Lion] flinched.

“A thousand apologies,” Wanjie remedied. “This lowly red will-”

“Peace, disciple, peace. Though I am hurt you think so little of me. Humor is allowed, no?” he chuckled. “There is a matter I would discuss, but first I would know how my disciple fares.”

Wanjie’s visible emotions were a match for [Sullen Saber’s] own. “This disciple would not trouble the Patriarch, and only wishes to keep shame from Cloud Dragon Hall. Further training is all that we require to truly honor these techniques.”

Mist gently fumed from Fu’s pipe, forming into a starry path. As one of the [Spring] Empire, she recognised the [True Orchid Path] immediately. “My question was more of this nature, Wanjie. To go from Castes to Sects is a leap that few have accomplished, no? I only ask out of curiosity.”

“Those from the Emperor’s- [Sixth Under Heaven’s] realm are not treated favourably in the Clear Sky. Few hold patience or temperance enough to withhold their blades. Cloud Dragon Hall differs greatly.”

Fu nodded. “That, I am glad to hear. The wind blows from all corners, no?”

The disciple said nothing.

A great weight, is this not? To be ashamed of and despised for one’s heritage. She holds a resilience not unlike another we hold dear.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“Our juniors have all absconded in search of challenge, leaving these halls quite bare. We have noticed that you do not roam further than your duties in the orphanage take you, Wanjie. Does your heritage play a role in this?”

Ah.

Shame blossomed on her cheeks like [Spring’s] own flowers. “This disciple would not tarnish Cloud Dragon Hall’s name by inviting trouble.”

“This peerless Mistress feels slighted, disciple. Do you believe your seniors’ judgement so poor as to welcome one that is unworthy?” hummed Shuidi. Her words grew louder as she blurred atop the douli. “The Patriarch’s humor is not our own. Speak wisely now.”

Wanjie’s [Spirit Lion] made to dip submissively, stopped only by her own hand. “No, Mistress Shuidi. It is a matter of self, not of your flawless judgement. We have looked to the wind for insight, yet lack the talent to glean more than its wayward nature.”

“Hmm. Then there lies your task, disciple. To focus upon one ribbon blinds oneself to the rest. One wind is all winds, and the same stands in reverse.”

“Mistress?”

The douli dipped towards a far corner of their courtyard, where sand flew and a great [Spirit Whale] delivered harsh truths upon the nature of blades.

“Another wayward wind blows in that corner, disciple. You will find that your plight aligns with her own,” said Fu. “Therein lies your task. As Patriarch I order you to become lost with this wind. Truly wayward. Together, perhaps, you might understand something of its nature.”

A kowtow was delivered, though none among the trio held any love for the gesture. “Mistress Yasodhara is a member of your household, Patriarch. We are unworthy of standing in her presence. To think-”

[Intent] burst from Hushi, though it held more whimsy than violence.

Samudra’s eye was drawn.

Wanjie firmed slightly beneath its weight, then bowed. “As you will.”

The trio stood quietly as introductions were made, though their personalities made it no electric affair. With Fu’s cultivation as it was he heard the conversation in entirety, choosing to ignore everything after the main point had been discussed.

Hushi conjured their [Ink], reminding themselves of something that in all truth, could not be forgotten easily.

[Primordial Law of Tribulations]

[Second Law: Longanimity], [Boon] awarded.

Through a confluence of [Karma]-mitigating [Arts] and [Primordial Law], your insight into [Tribulations] has deepened.

[Red Cord Condemnation] Expend a tithe of your [Spirit] to twist the throes of [Karma] upon an individual, directing their ties toward the Path of greatest strife.

It was perhaps, foolish, to lessen himself in this fashion. But no different than training under duress. As though a hand was tied behind one’s back.

With eyes upon Wanjie and Yasodhara, he touched the winds surrounding them.

Sending forth a whisper.

[Red Cord Condemnation].

A fresh line appeared upon their [Ink] as seen through his [Immortal Arbiter’s Soul], red, where all else was either black or gold. The characters displayed were a match for his latest [Boon], difficult as this reading was as his vision blurred beneath a pang of [Spiritual]... waning.

The [Fatherly Asura] did not stagger, but felt a great portion weaker for bestowing this facet of his [Primordial Law].

Let us not attempt [Sullen Saber’s] technique in this state. To do so, weakened…

Both the [Spirit Octopus] and [Spirit Crab] paused, then shook in disagreement. “What better opportunity than the crisis we make ourselves?”

🀦

Wise men caught two fish with one net. Such was Fu’s mantra before cultivation, and long would it follow him onward.

[Drowned Fathoms Peak] poured about him in peaceful melody, ceaselessly rapping upon the mountainside and churning oceans below. The [Law of Origin] was independent from the realm of the Clear Sky, however, [Autumn’s] weight did not lessen the clarity he experienced in his own domain.

Rain traced every curve upon Udvah’s laugh-creased features, rolling down the sizeable pouch and extended earlobes of his increasingly rotund form. Some strange half-[Constitution] that had modelled him over a figure from either fable or history.

Even the Old One was perplexed when Bu Da was mentioned.

Laughter pierced the rain.

Fu finished another anecdote about the Wayward Winds before attempting to set his words on a course for more serious matters. “...and to this day, Su Sai does not know?”

“This lowly seeker would not yet stand if he knew we had removed his hanfu from the bathhouse. Amituofo. Far too severe, no? An assassin need not be joyless, for if all thoughts are of death and shadows what else might remain?”

Wine would be drowned beneath the downpour, and so these five comrades shared a rich berry harvested from the lands beneath Zhu’s tribal domain.

The alcoholic portion was swiftly consumed by a greedy [Hundred Immunities Fruit].

Hushi impressed slight disappointment.

Conversation continued as it had for the last hour - pleasantly - and might have continued had two figures not emerged.

Mist-formed and grand, the Old One left the mountaintop cave aside the majesty of Ryudesui’s shoal and both dominated the space before the gathered ghosts.

While not a part of the [Spirit] lost with his [Red Cord Condemnation], the Old One’s proximity revitalized Fu. Much had happened across their temporary separation, and he was as much a partner as Hushi and Shuidi.

For this, Fu bowed second. His first act was a gentle clasp upon the wizened catfish’s ephemeral form. “Jeje,” he smiled. “Each hour has felt like a [Season] since our parting.”

A pincer mirrored this motion, but did not break as swiftly.

“Younglings. Indeed. This wizened sage’s heart has become a riverbank. Soft. Brittle. Yet, a respite. A glad thing, our reunion.”

Fu greeted Ryudesui with a deeper bow. “Venerable one.”

“My kin-of-kin reveals much, Gao Fu, Gao Shuidi, Gao Hushi. His current is his own, but thanks must be offered. That you willingly parted is a thing to be repaid,” shared the [Divine]-blooded shoal. “The Jianghu is not as this divine-shoal left it.”

“Darker,” offered Fu.

The shoal bobbed in affirmation. “Indeed, indeed. To be threated by one’s own existence. Troubling. That all below the Heavens would desire my [Bloodline]. My flesh. Sacriledge. Sire to all that swarm, the [Perennial Fortunes Shoal], would be displeased if yet they remained.”

Perhaps humorously, Mangalam croaked with an impression of hunger. Udvah merely laughed before offering his own introductions. “Venerable shoal, this lowly seeker offers apologies. Amituofo, when lost for words our stomach often speaks first.”

“To eat is to live. Do not apologise for what we embody,” intoned Ryudesui. “Yet, a lacking seeker you are not. We share a current, in part, little toad.”

“We come here with an offer, venerable one. A thing you surely do not need, but hospitality would have us speak it aloud. Brother Udvah, we are sorry this will be the first you hear of it,” smiled Fu. “Know that it is no order.”

Udvah only smiled.

“Might we trouble you for your [Dao of Sanctuary]?”

[Profundity] of a far greater sort enveloped the smiling assassin. [Ink]-like in the way it wove across, and then from, his rapidly gleaming skin. Grand, golden [Paifang] spread like the casting of raindrops from a leaf, and from then on Fu heard the distant chime of serene bells.

A sense of tranquility welcomed him to Udvah’s… no- As [Senses] aligned after this small leap, Shuidi revealed its nature. They were no longer within his [Dao of Sanctuary], but upon the gentle slopes of an [Inner World].

Memories returned of a vast palm upon which they had previously stood, but this same palm had grown prodigiously. A fingertip had once held a peak and gentle shrine atop which Bingbai had recovered from his perils within the Empire of Abundant [Spring], and it still stood - lesserly.

Child to greater peaks.

Two palms held flat in offering, in charity and benevolence, therein each ridge of golden flesh held a mountain range, each callous a tranquil pool of healing and each nail an endless deluge of waters that cascaded without end.

Fu embraced his brother without warning, wrapping tight around the laughing monk’s shoulders. “Brother,” he grinned, allowing his smile to mirror the drama of Udvah’s regular expression. “You have advanced by leaps and bounds! Such news ought to have been celebrated at the very least.”

“Amituofo, it is a small thing,” offered Udvah, though the mischief he wore said anything but.

Though the injury to his [Spirit] was self-inflicted, and to their reckoning, beyond mending without the [Red Cord Condemnation’s] end, Fu felt the ambient [Spiritual] energy enshroud him like a balm.

“Sanctuary,” smiled Fu. “If this is not it, then you are at least a half-step closer, brother.”

Ryudesui’s shoal spread here, in loosing formation than any Fu had witnessed. It drew Mangalam’s hungry eyes, though he held enough wisdom not to partake. “The current is clear, Gao Fu, Gao Shuidi, Gao Hushi. You mean to offer us this place?”

“Offer it? No, venerable one. Apologies. This place is not ours to offer. Our thoughts were only that Udvah and Mangalam might grant their own hospitality,” Fu replied. “We have yet to ask.”

The [Divine Beast’s] progeny tightened. “Our wizened cousin has spoken of the regard we are held in. Lengths. Depths. Horrors that this Jianghu would commit to claim even a shade of our power. We see no such reverence here.”

With seismic force the great fingertip peak they stood upon unfurled, moving through space until they were beneath a great downpour of [Spiritual] water. Such was the volume that all to their east swiftly filled, extending outwards as the beginning of a vast lake.

Udvah’s own fingers relaxed. “Amituofo. To host such a guest would be an honor,” he said, looking then to Fu with rare severity. “The [Boundless Dao] are myriad, brother. To some, water is wet and to some it is not. Ho, it is this variety that enriches all beneath the Heavens. Yet- This lowly seeker holds one meaning of Sanctuary as true. That of safety. Amituofo. Of peace, untainted by blood or violence.”

So intrinsically was the [Inner Realm] linked to his emotions that the starry skies flared crimson at the thought.

“Life is turmoil. None would exist without strife. Sanctuary. Without violence there would be no need for escape. H’siang sheng. The mutual arising.”

A bold croak dismissed the shoal’s words.

Some thousand, thousand eyes turned upon the toad.

“Amituofo. Even so,” smiled Udvah. “If the venerable shoal seeks harbour from the coming storm, we might only accommodate it with an assurance of peace.”

“Daring. Disrespect. Dishonor. This assumption is a barb. A fisher’s hook,” Ryudesui intoned. “We-”

“A thousand apologies, venerable one. Ho. The assurance need not come from you.”

“None should know of this,” said Udvah.

Shuidi held no eyebrows with which to quirk, but her impression matched such a gesture. “Brother. There is implication here,” arrived her mental thoughts.

“None,” repeated Fu.

“Amiutofo. None.”

A simple phrase. Said without fealty.

Without conflict.

His [Dao Oath]... either he holds unfathomable tranquility, or it does not confine him. None- this would include the Cloudy Serpent Sect.

“This place,” continued Fu. “It is free of chains. As a sanctuary ought to be, no?”

Udvah’s expression was that of an assassin.

Quiet followed.

“Bah.”

Naturally, the peerless [Spirit Crab] among them held no love for this moment. Nor did she believe that Udvah could harm them if confrontation occurred. Thus, pridefully - “This Gao Shuidi is no longer bound by [Dao Oath], and would feel shame if Udvah and Mangalam were first to achieve this feat. Speak, brothers. How long have you held this freedom?”

Quiet followed once more.

Then mischief.

“Amituofo. Surely, the day after your own, peerless Shuidi,” the Vajra chuckled. “And if by some impossibility it was before- ho, then the Heavens conspired to make such a mistake.”

Mangalam croaked, mirthfully, having Hushi shake from what the toad impressed.

“Mistake,” was all that he shared.

Fu stroked his whisker. “A small mistake, brother. Yet, an amusing one, no?”

“Amituofo. Are there any others?” smiled Udvah.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!