Fatherly Asura

An agreement was bound by the [Dao] by the hour’s end, though this was no mere sheathe of papyrus.

As the shade of [Cherry River Spear’s] great [Spirit Tortoise] receded over Jade Songbird Province, Fu watched golden characters scrawl across the monumental scroll that hung before Mingqin’s great hall.

It was no less than a banner, affixed to a gifted pillar of the Ninth’s intricate design.

“For dragons to carry such weight… it gives merit to the notion of factions. Backing and reputation might be levied with the sharpness of blades,” said Yasodhara. “Gao Fu- Fu, it is strange to us. That not all are coloured in Red, Blue or Orchid.”

“Indeed. There are as many colours to wear as stars in the night sky,” he smiled. “Do not trouble yourself, the only one we must concern ourselves with is cherry-hued and disapproving.”

Samudra made clear her displeasure. “Forget not Yongqu Long’s gold.”

He had not.

Another shift inked across the great parchment by unseen hands.

“Immortal Reflections Palace,” read Fu, scrolling his eyes as another signature emerged. “The Twelfth Vajra. Fist of Nine Sect. Interesting.”

Yasodhara knew little of the Clear Sky, despite her efforts. Its vastness was meant to be drinked, not read on. “In what way?”

“Those that know what is at stake will sign this… delay of violence. But they would not do so rashly. Not when considers what other names will appear. The [Cherry River Spear] and [Ninth Under Heaven] are enough to hold back the tide, yet to enter into open contest, even in this guise, is no less than a declaration of intent,” he mused. “A fool guesses, Yasodhara, but we may yet see a rise of hidden hands.”

“Hidden hands,” repeated Samudra. “Your Empire’s Five Pillars. Gao Fu suspects that these factions are granules of the same desert.”

Shuidi had adopted a curious habit over the past hour. As such she hummed before her next words. “Those highest among the One Hundred and Eight that have not been drawn toward ascending their [Heavenly Talents] are not to be underestimated. A clutch from the Warring Tribes and some small hundred independent cultivators might also be valued as contenders. Yet they would enter this tournament at great risk and greater foolishness.”

“How so?”

“Serpents exist, Yasodhara. I do not know whether the [Clouded Serpent Queen] will stir from her seclusion, only that venerables [Gleeful Viper] and [Thrice-Clouded Boa] stand above all others. As for who will claim the [Hollow Throne], well, that is a question for Grandmother Hua alone.”

The young Vajra might well have pierced this assassin’s [Spirit] then, for much understanding flashed behind her eyes.

She asked no more.

“Samudra, let us make use of ourselves,” she said, leaving the [Fatherly Asura] alone to contemplate all that had, would, and might occur.

🀩

[Tribulations] roared across the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture for all that desired change, and the values upon his [Arbiter’s Soul] only rose closer to the ten thousand awhirl there within the assassin’s [Ink].

Hushi, Fu and Shuidi were separate.

Distant.

This much could be allowed, they weighed. Less than an hour in which to realign their thoughts.

Self serving. But on this one occasion, I will pause for breath.

His thoughts manifested in spectral steps. Opportunity’s own wind. Deft and violent. To date the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture could not have known such peerless motion, and in truth it only deepened Fu’s insight into the [Sovereign Clouded Existences Art].

The power of his own [Primordial Law] had reaped such a talent from the Heavens themselves, and Fu repaid this gift tenfold with his prudence.

Or perhaps, his duty.

A lone daoist sat engulfed in mud, sludge-coated to such an extent that none might tell where her skin ended and the buried limbs of her [Spirit Pangolin] began. As to what insight she sought - what breakthrough this pair were at the cusp of - Fu would not pry.

[Tribulation] came by way of hardening earth.

An entombment.

He found no answers there.

One soul among a bloody feast called next.

One [Spirit Bee]. Measly. Defeated.

Misery clotted their [Meridians], and the [Water Qi] that had once rushed throughout their [Channels] had become darker as they crawled about a once-great hive over the beatless wings of fallen kin.

The [Spirit Bear] cared not for his own destruction, leaving but honey-rich tracks for this vengeful soul to one day follow.

Pain and [Blood Qi] filled this [Foundation Realm] insect, pushing him to the brim.

[Tribulation] came as a trial of internal purity.

Yet, Fu found no answers here.

Nor in the next.

Scarce were the truths offered by the enraged Cherry River disciple, ill-able to avenge a tragedy close to Fu Gao’s actions.

Barren was the insight offered by a young, lonesome assassin of the Clouded Courts, desperate to hone his craft after the near loss of his [Spirit Serpent] partner.

For one with the wind’s swiftness, there came a passing of dozens. Indeed the skies of the Heavenly Roaming Prefecture seemed wrathful in the frequency of lightning, flame, or myriad other strokes of elemental judgement.

A whisper had formed on the undercurrent of all winds, gaining greater substance with each [Tribulation] bestowed.

[Primordial Law of Tribulations]

10,000/10,000

[First Law: Equivalence] refined.

[First Boon], [Arbiter’s Soul]refined.

[Immortal Arbiter’s Soul] Greater understanding of [Primordial Law] has further transformed your [Spirit]. With such understanding, fewer limits exist to your sight when it is used upon those you would orchestrate.

Conversely, the sight of those that would dare turn [Senses] upon you will welcome suitable challenge.

Wind rushed to deliver Hushi and Shuidi to his side. “Brother, sister,” he managed, his words effortless despite the growing tempest within them all.

An inwards glance revealed much of his [Ink’s] written transformation, though it was not wholly required.

[Tribulations] were no muted force and they were the shawl that now interwove itself within his [Spirit]. Some nebulous force of potential and strife that beat both with the strength of a thousand storms and the regularity of his own heart.

“We grow closer to our [Primordial Law].”

Shuidi hummed in half agreement. “We rise higher upon our spire. Higher yet than any in the Jianghu might claim to have done. A pity our title does not elevate as we do.”

“Sister, do you find [Primordial Lord] to be a lacking name now?” he smiled. “Perhaps Primordial Sovereign or Primordial Saint would befit so talented a cultivator?”

“Primordial Matriarch. No less than this would do.”

[Ink] continued to burn, though there came a clink and the subtle release of a cork to remove any immediate notions of gleaning what had appeared.

“That is a loud vintage, brother” he noted, seeing Zhu’s atop the nearest cloud, bottle already a-pour.

Seven saucers rested before him.

“To match the topic, I’d say it’s fitting.” Tanshuai stirred at the brim of Fu’s douli, already nestling atop Hushi’s crossed arms. Her affection was a balm that none knew they needed. “Udvah is a call away. Purposefully. His presence might change your answer.”

Fu lifted Shuidi’s saucer with a puff of cloud, creating a platform so she need not stoop. “A serious matter.”

“A serious matter?” irked Zhu. “If brotherly love has made you fond of my bluntness, that will change swiftly once words fly, Fu. By the Heavens, are you moon-touched?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The why need not be asked.

“What part of this maddening current are you asking on?”

Zhu’s hand went tremulous, spilling much. “On what part? You fool. The part where you cast aside all loyalty to Bingbai in favor of the bastard that left you for dead. Yongwu Long. [Dour Faced Strategist]. Ivory Sea. Hua. These acts aren’t that of a ghost, Fu.”

“I know.”

“You know. By the Heavens, you know. When words of [Hollow Thrones] came to pass, why didn’t you return? Where was my call? Bah- I’ve no wish to waste words. Your sun-facing farce was executely grandly, brother. The support for another to sit upon the Throne. But the coldness of our vocation fled when you’d involved the [Cherry River Sage],” he no less than fumed. “All until that point was the primer for betrayal. For Bingbai’s will. What lie would you’ve told us if I hadn’t confronted you as I do now? Even the Heavens know Gao Fu will not deceive family.”

Shuidi’s ire grew. “Brother, sister, you both speak out of turn.”

“Out of turn?” sneered Zhu. “You’ve rebelled against our Sect! The [Fatherly Asura’s] become no more than wind lifting a serpent’s skin.”

Fu frowned. “We have betrayed no one. Listen, brother, and I will tell you how we have stalled the inevitable slaughter. What [Constellation Seeds] might our Cloud Gathering Division reap from a land of carcasses? The Cherry River will spare no lives. The One Hundred and Eight. Ivory Sea and her [Sullen Saber]. All we have done preserves Bingbai’s will.”

“Do you forget the [Dao] inscribed upon my bones? Preserves Bingbai’s will. No. This is the effect, not the intention.”

Tanshuai left Hushi’s embrace.

“Matters have become complicated.”

Zhu’s bottle smashed. “That they’re complicated at all shows your allegiance. Our Clouded Courts are a definitive line. One you have now crossed.”

His [Senses] could not compare against the plum-eyed ghost. Familiarity was all that alerted Fu to the shift.

A tremble of wrist as though Zhu had need to restrain himself.

“Zhu?” Fu said, concern flaring. “What…”

[Immortal Arbiter’s Soul] held the acuity of a hunting raptor, swiftly finding the source of his brother’s strife. The internal trial was by all accounts a minor thing. Something that should not spark notice.

Yet he saw this turmoil of will and thoughts.

Shuidi held greater sensitivity. “They war against their [Dao Oath]. But something is amiss. The strength of our previous oath to the Clouded Courts would not birth such a reaction.”

Fu accepted the mental impression, calling out to his brother once more.

“I- I am-” Zhu’s head shook forcefully. “Sensation overtakes me. Impulse,” he managed, bunching his features in consternation. “My blood wishes to boil at your betrayal.”

Wishes to.

Hua had spoken of this atop her spire of [Primordial Law]. The corruption of [Dao Oaths] as one ascended. Indeed, Bingbai had skirted the subject some myriad [Seasons] prior. Both he and Zhu had ascended through the realms of cultivation at pace - not the swiftness of unrivalled geniuses, but with impressive haste - did this hold some unseen consequence?

Did a [Dao Oath] supplant the cracks of one’s burgeoning [Spirit]?

An answer arrived.

One to cleanse many woes and add myriad more.

But an answer all the same.

Hushi moved faster than thought, [Primordial Law] upon the end of each arm. These plunged forth with all the strength granted by [Clouded Sovereign’s Departure], plunging spectral tips into the depths of Zhu’s [Spirit].

Mubu’s had proved peerlessly cleaner.

Mubu’s crown allowed such an act.

The [Spirit Octopus] cared not for such truths, loosing the full sheathe of [Tribulations] upon Zhu’s embedded [Dao Oath].

What flared in Zhu’s eyes was beyond comprehension. The pain of betrayal at war with the toll Hushi’s [Law] drew upon his [Spirit]. In heartbeats he embraced the cloud, roaring, crashing his fists into fruitless wisps as Fu’s winds held him aloft.

Fu set a patient hand atop his brother’s back. “You will laugh, Zhu. But for my brother, for Feng, Yuling and Yuqi’s uncle, no less than this is required.”

A muscled hand tore at Fu’s collar, but did not strike further.

Roars followed.

Sounds that [Demons] would shy from.

Blood belched from Zhu and Tanshuai’s mouths, and the former was overcome with such a slickness of sweat it seemed a [Summer] sun had chased him for all his days.

Yet from those crimson-stained teeth there came a single word at turmoil’s end.

“Wine,” grimaced Zhu.

Staggering quantities doused the man’s inner flame across those ensuing moments, minutes and more, leaving his hanfu sodden and the marble-features of his jaw slick and dewy whilst an audible crack of Qi surfaced from his [Core].

“A hundred moons,” he shook once more. “You’ll pay for the next hundred moons of dinners. Wine included, brother.”

🀩

The future had proved a nebulous concept for Gao Fu. Beyond family and cultivation, he had not put much stock in what it might entail.

Immortality was long indeed.

Was it arrogance that led his thoughts now? To support Hua’s course of action - to support Long’s bid for the [Hollow Throne] - this was no less than a declaration of war against the Cloudy Serpent Sect.

His Sect.

Zhu had left to ruminate on this, hoping to find Heaven’s truth at the bottom of a bottle.

Udvah had not been called.

But serpents neared.

Night was rich about Mingqin’s palace. Ethereal. The glow of some thousand lanterns cast queer shadows, apotheosising simple effigies into blackened beasts of inordinate scale upon the surrounding marble.

They danced in disharmony.

As if - impossibly - afraid of what neared.

Ban Bingbai tugged his cobalt beard before the great parchment there, amused at the endless flow of characters that inked themselves upon it. “Oh-ho-ho,” he teased, his voice slow and full of light’s duality. “One disciple proves wayward. Absent. As though his beloved Master has mistreated him. Hmm. But the same disciple is ever near, and not. The [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms] is a most vexing treasure, disciple.”

“I offer apologies for my absence,” Fu returned, altogether too simply.

“Only apologies?” Bingbai laughed. “All that has transpired is more than burnt rice. I would hear your account.”

Shuidi could not sense Guang, though neither did her arrogance mislead her. The gulf between them almost made such an exercise futile.

As if seeking a singular ray of the sun.

Fu’s tale waxed like the retelling of fable. Words of Yongwu Long as the [True Golden Demon] began first, for telling the freshest details allowed him time to orient how best he might survive his master’s wrath.

More details passed.

The tournament to decide this realm’s fate. Grandmother Hua and her true return to the Jianghu, though this was among the most sparsely talked on. Then, to finish, “...unheard of. Mubu, the [Barefoot Emperor]. A cultivator of impossible things, Master.”

“[Barefoot Emperor] and [Cherry River Sage]. Oh-ho-ho, how far-fetched this tale becomes. I’m curious, however. Name his impossibility, disciple, for your great master feels slighted by the comparison.”

The lack of our [Clouded Ghost Arts] has surely not escaped notice. A fool’s errand, to believe the Cloud Gathering Division’s Master does not know all things. This seems a dance, for now.

Hushi mimed his arms towards the Heavens.

“He plucked [Constellation Seeds] from the stars as though they were a fly within his noodles, Master. It…” Fu dipped his head. “[True Saint Grade] gifts for his grandchildren.”

Bingbai’s myriad wrinkles sharpened. “Yuling, Yuqi, and Feng. By extension of your station, Gao Fu, they’re considered serpents. While three such treasures are not their own by right, I’d not test the patience of he that cares for them. Of course, neither would I dare intrude upon your family affairs. That right you have more than earned, disciple, even if such a loss is… irksome.”

A visible sigh plumed from Fu’s mouth. “Ten thousand gratitudes, Master. We will strive to repay this loss tenfold.”

“Oh-ho. Of that I’ve no doubt. What remains is the nature of your role. Its evolution. By my own omission, we have not spoken on the [Hollow Throne]. The re-emergence of the [Cherry River Sage] twists the arc of simple arrows, does it not?”

Fu dipped. “Had fate not delivered me to you, Master Bingbai, my life would be forfeit. The Cloud Gathering Division has my loyalty. As it will for time immemorial.”

One could not shout the readiness of muscles before an assassin. The willingness of fingers to call forth a blade.

The [Fatherly Asura] was beyond such things, and yet, Bingbai inspired doubt.

“Glad news indeed,” laughed Bingbai.

The curvature of his brow was akin to one that knew many quiet jokes.

Playful.

Quietly smug.

It was a look that harkened back to the Four Corners Prefecture, when once a flare of [Demonic Arts] had reaped a young cultivator of her [Constellation Seed]. One of ownership.

Predatory.

Vindictive.

None below the Heavens were perfect, and so this did not warn Fu against his beloved Master, merely gave him pause to wonder what certainty did Bingbai believe he held over his disciple to inspire such a look.

“Master, I would ask a thing. Disciple Zhu and I were pushed aside in matters of Hollow Thrones and [Splinters]. We were not ready, and yet they seem of the utmost relevance now. [Karma] weaves as it wishes, and thus if we are to chance across the undeserving?”

Bingbai tugged once at his beard, and the courtyard’s shadows drew closer. “My Cloud Gathering Division is far removed from this, disciple. [Constellation Seeds] are our domain. Your tournament only hastens this reaping. A proclamation to all corners of the Clear Sky to draw moths to our flame. Recall, Gao Fu, that we are never alone. The Descent of Four Clouds holds this as their purview.”

“As you say, Master.”

“Oh-ho-ho. You may wonder why I don’t press you for answers, disciple. Why my justifiable outrage doesn’t flay you where you stand? The path you’ve walked has held many… objectionable choices,” he said, his face that of granite. “The tear between [Cherry River Sage] and our Clouded Courts is of obvious discomfort to you. Know that sentimentality alone holds my wrath at bay. I’ll say one thing, Gao Fu, and that is where the matter will remain. Listen well. The orchestrations of Jinghui Hua, Yongwu Long and all other pretenders are doomed to fail. Pay no heed to her foresight, nor his hallowed name. Without embellishment, there is no power greater than that of venerable [Gleeful Viper]. Against her will, all are as dust.”

Certainty.

Fu saw there a glint of inevitability.

“There was never doubt, Master. Nor do I believe any action I might take enough to sway the course she has laid out. Clarification is all that I seek, but I hear in your words a call to remain as we are. To prepare for the coming of the [Immortal Judgement Sunshine Formation].”

A slight nod. “Indeed, disciple. This sun-facing path you have taken bears much fruit. Caution, however, prevails above all. If it’s of interest, I’d recommend that Mingqin’s stolen [Constellation Seeds] be tightened further. This Cloud Dragon Hall of yours boasts suitable vessels. Few vaults would be greater than those you’ve personally fostered, at least from the insidious nature of beggars and false-ghosts that might try their hand. Amusing, no? That they’d be oblivious to this honor.”

Hushi clasped first, and Shuidi hummed in agreement. “This Gao Shuidi will see it done, Master.”

“Just so,” laughed Bingbai, winking. “Just so. Do drop by more often, disciple. You’ve more vivacity to your words than your second half.”

Fu allowed a chuckle. “We shall, Master.”

Such was the master assassin’s [Prowess] that none gathered could be certain if he had left when he did. His form vanished, but naught but sight and sound had confirmed his presence.

So it was that Fu spectated the still-inking parchment for the time it might take incense to burn, twice-over, inscribing the names of myriad, daring factions across its resplendent length.

Sect of the Immortal Three.

Crescent Lake Sword Sect.

White Blossom House.

By Kang Jae’s hand, Cloud Dragon Hall.

Then, a conspiration of ink whirled to shift all that had come before it. Greatest amongst the characters, serpents of black and gold pushed aside the myriad names to take their rightful place as highest upon this list.

[Plum Axe Zhu] rested to its left. [Fourth Under Heaven] to the left thereafter.

Four names of the Cherry River were below.

Yet the pinnacle held room for one, and one alone.

Cloudy Serpent Sect.

It was Shuidi that hummed her appreciation, doing so as the [Dao of Four Horizons] whisked them to distant skies.

And further, blurring them through the [Paifang] to their own realm, [Drowned Fathoms Peak].

Only here did Fu allow himself to breathe.

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