Fatherly Asura

[Spring] arrived after the passing of less days that Fu had realised, and in this change he felt a great swallowing of self.

The oneness of Heaven’s change brought with it freshness of breath. Life. Persistence and growth. Indeed for his concept alone each turn of the [Season] was an exercise in insight, scintillating and teasing their [Senses] with novel worlds upon each bud or melted flake.

Such sallowness, however, was not for their distance to snow, ice, decay, and endings - the greater of which insight his counterpart, Fu Gao, had embedded himself within thoroughly - no. It came for the truth that few spoke of, so universal and clear as it may be.

[Tyranny].

The greater one’s strength, the greater the [Seasons] impeded.

“What will come in ten?” he asked.

Cloud Dragon Hall held many mists, some solemn, some playful.

None answered his query.

“Nine [Seasons],” hummed Shuidi.

“Nine [Seasons],” nodded Fu. drinking deep of his pipe. He stood then, unfolding from the lotus to stand tall upon his lakeside berth. “There is but one conversation we must have, and then we might proceed as always. The winds do not circle endlessly, but move. This doldrum of storms can end.”

The course was set.

Grandmother Hua rapped upon- in truth, the screen flew open at her second knock. “Of all Paths witnessed, this was second swiftest. Hmm. Yes, I see the wind is behind your sails now, Gao Fu. This is good. It will be needed.”

“Grandmother,” clasped Fu. “The second swiftest?”

“In some the weight of duty held you still. In others you acted rashly. No more will be said, for the future one might have taken is a madness unto itself,” her fingers sparkled, if only for his benefit. “Speak it aloud. Confirm it as one might their [Dao].”

A formation of ancient feel shrouded the moment. An assurance of privacy.

“From wise lips came wise words, once,” smiled Fu, though he held no hint of humour. “That to survive these Heavens one must become so small they avoid notice, or become large enough that they might trample all others.”

“Hmm,” shared Hua, but no more.

“An antithesis learned through Mubu guides these claws. Our future is decided.”

Hushi’s thundering tone followed that of his sister. “A God of Lonesome Skies imparted their reason. Our future is decided.”

“Against an Empress’ wisdom, our future is decided. We will become the arbiter of True Change. [Primordial Lords of Tribulation], known to all beneath the Heavens. If your will follows Yongwu Long, Grandmother, then we shall enforce all that comes after.”

Myriad constellations glittered across the Sage’s pupils. “One might presume your insight shallow, Gao Fu. Mubu corrupts with his lessons, for [Freedom] is no bedfellow to [True Change]. His crown exists and does not for that is its nature. If one held the crown of [True Change], then they themselves would live a lie and cease to be so, for one thing cannot both be eternal and embody its concept.”

Shuidi hummed, having much of Hua’s brow quirk. “We will hold no crown, Grandmother. A claw is enough.”

“To sacrifice ambition in this way, Gao Fu, it is… Hmm,” Hua firmed. “It is most like you.”

Fu’s tongue wished to ask more. Questions such as need we not explain more or is proof required in all their variations, and yet it was folly to presume that the [Cherry River Sage] did not know all answers.

Even still.

“Children must stand on the backs of their fathers. Is this not the way of winds? The rushing gale clears all so that shallow breaths might follow. That they might build into ribbons, gusts and storms of their own?”

Hua’s hum then was uncanny, as was the softness of her palm against his cheek. It caressed gently, then followed with an affectionate tap. “A fool would warn the [Primordial Lords of Tribulation] against coming hardship, and I am no fool. Very well. Hmm. Yes. The [Cherry River Sage] agrees with this course.”

The [Fatherly Asura’s] trio dipped. “Might we ask on a course?”

“The folly of all that petition the [Cherry River Sage] is in their ignorance. To know all futures reveals little. Only the past is certain, for that alone cannot be persuaded,” began Hua, departing with the intention that he follow.

Cloud Dragon Hall’s courts were filled with practicing disciples.

Kang Jae, Shaokang and Yasodhara were amongst them, though their own actions differed greatly.

“It would be unseemly to speak at length on prior times. Times when my [Spirit] was not as hale as now,” she continued, setting her stare upon all that toiled there. “Recall, however, the screens within our home on Divine Clouded Mountain. Set for all I had seen.”

“Zhu held one before our arrival. As did Kang Jae. Four remained.”

Hua highlighted Yasodhara. “The Sun Demon’s child was not intended to come alone. Righteous Mridul was to become as close in blood as Gao Zhu - a thing you have yet to solidify formally, I will remind you - alas, the Heavens are fickle. All that transpired robbed one such pleasant future. Heed this as caution against seeking my wisdom.”

Deep melancholy panged in Fu’s heart. “Yasodhara does not know. I see now why you speak of madness. To torture oneself on what might have been is cruelty manifest.”

“This Gao Shuidi would know of the other screens, despite this warning, Grandmother.”

Was that mirth there, crinkling Hua’s lips?

“A transient couple held a room there, welcome despite the length of their absence. The Vajra of smiling face and widening waist with his unrequited love. That future is as temperamental as the [Seasons] themselves,” began Hua. “Once there slept a [Spirit Hawk] obsessed with silk, ever seeking to be swifter than its host who it believed to be the wind. A now-deafened ghost, ousted from the One Hundred and Eight. Three oafish spear-sisters whose vengeance you slaked by accident, beholden despite your incessant dismissals. At length, I might speak on my niece, daughter of the [Cherry River Pilgrim] or the silver-skinned soul that defies all crossroads. Does this sate your curiosity, Gao Shuidi?”

Hushi audibly laughed.

“Allies, then,” noted Fu. “One course among myriad. We are not blessed with this in abundance. Ghosts are seldom blessed in friendship. Yet, of Udvah - your Vajra of widening waist - he is not outwith our reach. Nor his unrequited love. Now-deafened might only be Niharika, but the same cannot be said of her. In this regard we have let you down, Grandmother.”

“There is Yaogaui.”

“Yaogaui?” said Hua. “That oddity cannot be conjured like mist, Gao Hushi. Indeed, it seems you have ears but fail to hear. A house cannot stand on one pillar, but neither would brittle stone serve as a foundation. Temper what already exists.”

Shuidi looked to distant skies.

Fu looked to his disciples, and hoped his next act would not draw further ire. Mists spewed from his pipe, embedded with all the properties of their [Black Orchestrations Array] and the [Sovereign Clouded Existences Art]. “There is the matter of what remains in Zhu and our possession,” he almost whispered.

“For your sake, Gao Fu, I will not address your lack of faith in the [Cherry River Sage],” she hummed, spiting these clearly inferior mists. “The various [Spinters] in your possession can be consumed if you both so wish, in time. Know, however, that your duty is not to step within the [Hollow Throne]. In this tale of Heaven’s will, neither you nor Gao Zhu hold the lead role. That burden is Yongqu Long’s alone.”

“[Divine Qi] is no small thing to hide. Already I fear the Clouded Court’s suspicions. Apologies, Grandmother, my thoughts are scattered and my tongue follows suit. The [Hollow Throne] accepts none without [Divine Qi], this much we know. Is it better then, to imbue another with their power? To grant Long arms that his own might strike truer?”

Hua hummed. “In this moment, Gao Fu, trust that such generosity will not be necessary. The [Hollow Throne] holds a uniqueness beyond such requirements… those that only I, Yongwu Long, and sparse others could know. Hmm. No. A course will soon open that will reward such patience tenfold if only you refrain from absorbing them.”

Fu bowed, dismissing his fog. “Gratitude, Grandmother. The clarity of this moment is a weightless treasure. We shall strive to honor it.”

Starlight glittered in Hua’s eyes, casting no reflection. “That much even a fool might see.”

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[Purple Atrocities Mire]

[Autumn]

[Core Formation Realm] [Mud Qi Abundance] [Trial Realm] [Martial Profundity]

Or so the [Paifang’s] message had read.

“Jae, Gochi,” gestured Fu. “You may begin.”

“Our interest cannot grow higher, Fu. You state that this is where they originate?” he returned, pushing his spectacles further. “Of course, writings are limited on the subject. Such is the Clear Sky’s collective interest that knowledge of this-”

Mist puffed from Shuidi’s maw, stalling his words. “You dare keep this peerless Mistress waiting?” she hummed.

The [Spirit Grub], Gochi, received no help from Hushi’s mirthful glint.

Swiftness took much bite out of a [Mystic Realm’s] hazards, and while Kang Jae had recently crossed the threshold into late [Core Formation], Fu did not allow him to bypass all that it held in store for them.

Thus it was somewhere between the fifth and sixth hour that they arrived at the [Reliquary].

“The [Trial Guardian] awaits. I would not dishonor this moment with further revelations, Jae, the joy of discovery and challenge is yours alone.”

Some wet construction of rolling mud fluctuated before them. A mound, in truth, though one that held more kinship with oceans than molehills. [Senses] revealed a great, dormant force masked beneath the impossible depths, slopping vegetation and sepia hues of this altogether undesirable realm.

Jae bore a studious expression as the [Profundity] of some unknown [Dao] overcame his vision. “Ah, prepare yourself Fu. Our questions will be endless once we return.”

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The number of blades that broke against Shaokang’s skin surely held no name. Such a total was reserved for mathematicians indeed.

ALL THAT IS TAKEN UPON AN EDGE CAN BE LOST UPON ANOTHER.

A grunt answered the [Trial’s] meaning. “We carry no blade.”

Myriad wounds ringed this fallacy of an arena. Amidst shorn rubble and bisected pillars there existed only gaping cuts. Tracks where jian had curved most perfectly into aged stone, exposing its exterior shell to the metallic starlight beyond it.

A realm of little mystery indeed.

Singular focus.

Few challenges could be so perfectly matched, no?

Shaokang and Waipi lumbered into an onslaught of [Spiritual] blades. Spectral jian in infinite variation shattered like fragile glass against his peerlessly dense skin. That of the [Golden Tyrant Body], reaped from Long- the [True Golden Demon’s] own ancient, tempering technique - by the hand of Grandmother Hua.

Silver steam expelled from Waipi’s nostrils as she took the time to look sidelong in query.

“Yes, you must only conquer this foe,” shared Fu, quite taken with the ridiculous sight at play before him. “Engrave this in memory, however, for not all [Trials] are so clear.”

Fur unravelled at the arena’s center to show a sight not unlike sunlight through disparate bamboo trunks. It was rushing thing, striped in silver in black, and it look longer than was reasonable to discern its nature.

“The challenger holds no blade,” rumbled the [Spirit Tiger’s] bassy voice. “Foolish. Blind. The challenger-”

Defiant cracks sounded from Shaokang’s knuckles as the Gao clan’s ogre made ready. “[Fist Technique: Punch],” he announced not one breath before he crossed the distance with grace befitting a meteor.

The [Spirit Tiger] met his blow with a clawtip, unfettered. “Foolish. Blind. Hasty. Prey rushes like-”

“[Fist Technique: Punch].”

Again the clawtip blocked.

“[Fist Technique: Punch].”

“Sacriledge. This great beast’s realm is of blades. You bring naught but flawed ambition. Know this! To commit further disrespect-”

Waipi’s titanic tail crunched against another tip, gouging the stone in a wide radius from impact alone. His partner followed with a consecutive cross, and then made a measured show of stepping back.

“Grah,” he shook.

Shuidi narrowed her gaze, impressing much. “Jinghui Hua raises a monster.”

Interest rose.

Oh?

Shaokang’s face grew displeased, hard as it was to separate such an emotion from his resting features. “A blade dulls…. an edge blunts. There is… inevitability. Time. Ravages. Grah, I’m no poet. Listen, beast. I see no difference between claw and qiang. The jian holds its curve no greater than a tooth might. To temper one’s soul and temper a blade, isn’t this the same? Isn’t one’s [Body] the outward shape of their [Spirit]? This is our belief.”

The [Spirit Tiger] blinked. “[Body-Spirit Unity].”

“Grah. My belief needs no name. Blade or fist, we don’t care. That is all,” answered Shaokang. “[Fist Technique: Punch].”

“Hold-”

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First breaths.

Ribbons, gusts and gales would follow.

When Jae and Shaokang concluded their [Trials], Fu would educate further. He would mold his constellation-reaping techniques for those not oppressed by moon-facing tactics, and apply such insight to all within Cloud Dragon Hall.

Yasodhara would follow, if she wished.

It was shameful that their list then drew blank, absent of further characters despite the brimming pot of ink they might wield.

“Sikou, of the Warriors Association,” he shared, absently. “Our Feng’s future father-in-law, Eighty Seventh Bhandana. Are these the only names outwith our Wayward Winds that we might call on?”

[Spring’s] days held much light, and despite this one’s length the sun had finally deigned to set. A purple film cast across the Wisteria Peaks, washing branch, leaf and the glittering, cliff’s edge [Paifang] in a blanket of queer hue.

[Sullen Saber] unfolded first.

We did not expect him, of all our allies.

His appearance conjured no phenomena in the world about him as often occurred with those of [True Lord Realm] or [True King Realm], the latter of which Fu highly suspected him to belong to.

The realm above immortality, within immortality or its next step towards existences such as the [Barefoot Emperor] or perhaps, the [Cherry River Sage].

Little point of reference stood for impossibilities stacked atop impossibilities.

Fu departed his cloud and bowed in greeting. “Venerable [Sullen Saber]. We expected Yongwu Long or Ivory Sea, though I am pleased nonetheless. The nature of my request to Grandmother Hua was irregular.”

“...”

Statuesque was the capital word to describe this cultivator. Not only in heaven-chiselled features, poise or grace, but in conversation. Indeed, Hua had mentioned that stones bled easier than words loosed upon his tongue.

Only his [Spirit Sabertooth] held any colour of emotion, curled as she was about his flank.

Hushi enjoyed the silence, prodding an arm from the douli so he might gesture to the [Paifang].

They crossed the threshold without further words.

[Broken Dreams Hegemony]

[Summer]

[True Lord Grade] [Beast Realm] [Dream Qi Abundance] [Martial Profundity] [Celestial Event: Reign of Mirth].

Heat washed over the Fatherly [Asura] at his first step, owed to the harsh red of a desert sun and the cruelty of clear skies between them. Whether the sprawling dunes about this [Paifang] were of this colour he could not say, only that the glow upon him was unnatural and bold.

Shuidi whisked forth the granules underfoot, grinding them between her claws. “Immortal grade [Mind Qi], refined into physical form. That we are ephemeral bodes well, else we would fall into a slumber from which few could wake.”

Naturally, Fu drew much of these dream sands into the [Shrine of Final Skies].

Then he awaited his instructor.

“The [Heavenly Restrictions], I am curious to see how he navigates them. A realm of [True Lord Grade] will refuse his strength,” mused Fu.

Perhaps the needle-thick slash before him ought to have been expected, for what other method would an immortal blademaster use? Not three strides before the [Paifang] there tore a slit as fine as a seamstress’ through silk, and from it [Sullen Saber] entered.

Aarushi had once spoke at length on how a tempered [Body] purged sickness. How Qi replaced the components of mortal flesh, purging all but Heaven-touched diseases with purity and unconscious processes.

Fu witnessed now a similar reaction from the [Broken Dreams Hegemony] as it sought to cleanse the disease that was [Sullen Saber].

The red of this sun waxed in vibrancy, promising certain danger as the winds began to rise. At first a bluster, then in moments it became a raging-

“Be at ease,” commanded Fu, abating this fledgling storm.

More vibrant yet grew these surrounding skies. More incensed grew the realm’s mood.

Furrows of impossible length surged about the surrounding dunes, spilling tides as myriad forces moved beneath the sands. A beast or entity that impressed a form not unlike Hushi’s own, shown as eight vast arms with a [Constitution] matching this realm suddenly rose about them.

A fitting start.

The chain materialized in Fu’s grasp.

[Sullen Saber] touched his hilt to rid him of such a notion.

Swifter than sight the surrounding area levelled, and all that remained was a radius of some thousand li wherein all was flat and mundane. No dune held a cap, nor did anything stand above the height of the immortal’s hip save for Fu himself.

Shuidi hummed her appreciation. “It is good to know this lesson will yield much.Gao Shuidi would not consider tutelage from anyone less.”

The [Spirit Sabertooth] curled upon the sands as [Sullen Saber] crossed his arms. An open gesture, however, and one Fu read as invitation to speak.

“After such a display I am not certain anything remains, venerable one,” he said, dipping his head. “But if I take your presence as permission, then I can only state that we are ready to begin. Please, [Sullen Saber], for what is to come - we would learn how best to slay an immortal.”

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