Fatherly Asura

Bingbai’s most personal gift had not gone unused to due spite or negligence, on the contrary Fu had long wished to display it.

To do it the justice it rightly deserved.

“Father,” remarked Feng, dancing his palm and more so his stance, about the myriad corners of his Warship. “The inscription work on this is peerless! It is shameful to say, but Master Bhaswar’s own look like the scrawlings of a child in comparison. See here, how they have layered-”

Paxing whooped by way of interruption, though the great [Spirit Ape] was similarly taken with the [Arrays] and overlapping circuitry of [Spring] Imperial construction. The pair grinned at each other, rushing forth with a small nod of parting.

Snow flurried about the skies of Divine Clouded Mountain, but Fu allowed a small amount to pass through the [Array’s] outer shell.

Pleasant, is it not?

Shuidi shared the sentiment despite standing some hundred paces away through wall and cabin. Her attention was on Yuling and Nuwang, though Fu did not pry on the topic of conversation. He was certain… he was fairly confident the subject was appropriate.

Further to the bow, Hushi and Waipi stood in silent contemplation observing the flakes.

Shaokang refused to near the balustrade.

The mists of Fu’s pipe puffed gently as he made his way forward, producing a blanket from the [Shrine of Final Skies]. Here the wind spoke of a chill, though he did not feel it.

Weight reigned at the bow of his vessel.

That of vast, cataclysmic [Spiritual] pressure manifesting in the contrasting whorl of cherry blossom petals.

Grandmother Hua was central to this, arms splayed amidst the dance. Unmoving since their arrival near one full day ago.

“An, it is warmer within,” offered Fu, shawling the blanket upon his mortal servant’s shoulders. “Nor would Grandmother appreciate your toes growing blue.”

The youth smiled, breath pluming. “I would not leave the Young Mistresses.”

Fu looked ahead to where the final members of his household stood watch. They did not flinch in the snow or light breeze, and instead remained resolute in their desire to aid the [Cherry River Sage’s] every need.

His youngest, Yuqi, and the ever-dazed Yiji. Neither were warriors, yet they had weathered this spot without complaint.

[Tyranny] was upon the daughter of [Spring], and thus frost clung to her with what Fu knew to be the pain of some thousand daggers upon flesh.

Her father’s and her own, Samudra the [Spirit Whale] was the only soul not idle. She rode the breeze in scattered formation, the oneness of sand and flesh having her dance about the Warship in constant patrol.

But a pinch of her stopped by Fu, impressing a transmission that only these two might hear. “Gao Fu. That man of unguessable will. There. This once-abundant whale must ask if [Winter] toys with the [Senses]. Tell me you see him. Tell me you have actions against him, should it be needed. Yasodhara is a mere grain against the desert when placed beside him.”

Mubu stood unseen amongst the blood of his blood, poised in spectation.

“What action have I?” smiled Fu, returning the words within his mind. “No more action than fish against the current. Be at peace, venerable Samudra, that man is Jinghui Hua’s first love. Father to my Mei-”

“Grandfather to your children.”

The douli dipped. “Just so.”

“Then the course of best propriety is to leave him unnoticed,” said Samudra, parting as abruptly as ever.

Brother. Sister.

Spare seconds passed as the pair returned to Fu’s side.

The [Sovereign Clouded Existences Art] could do much that the [Clouded Ghost Arts] could not. Perhaps this was to be expected by a technique that was delivered to myriad souls, for this shape was intended to fit all deemed worthy.

He knew now how broad that was.

His- The Clouded Courts, in all their thousands upon thousands upon thousands.

By the by, it could not see [Karmas] flow. His previous [Qi Suppression] did not interact with such a force like the mask he wore now.

An auspicious wind had gathered. One breath on the eve of a storm.

All petals ceased as the [Cherry River Sage] ended her mantra, wobbling as Ershiba likewise stumbled, unfurled from her [Spirit Cuckoo] form. Both were cradled by the hairy, trunk-like arms of their [Dao Partner].

Yuqi and Yasodhara gasped.

Fu blurred to Grandmother Hua’s side. “How is she, Mubu?”

The [Barefoot Emperor’s] palm swept over her brow. “Beautiful,” he chuckled. “But aside from that, troubled. The constraint of time has burdened her [Spirit]. To be reunited with her parts took its toll, and she did not rest before embracing all that she had missed.”

All crossroads. Truly? If she has attempted to sift through all the paths below Heaven since her decline into mortality… The reality is unimaginable.

“We have settled them.” Again Mubu’s fingers twinkled across the pair. “With Hua and Ershiba’s fortitude it will not be long before they wake.”

Shuidi impressed the burning eyes of all that had rushed to the bow. The Gao Clan in entirety, urgency in their every motion. She could not tell what concerned them more, Hua’s collapse or the stranger that clutched her.

“Shaokang, a seat,” ordered Fu.

The brute returned in moments with a plush article on which both women were laid. He grunted back from the edge once done.

Fu did not address either sight, and merely waited.

Moments.

Minutes.

An incense stick might have burned by the time Hua’s eyes flickered open, but when they did they had much changed. Vibrant light shone from her irises, cherry-hued as all things were, though now there showed a constant cascade of falling blossoms within them.

To look upon them, Fu shuddered.

Doom shone there as much as hope.

“Grandmother!” rushed Yuqi, first to offer comfort.

“Peace, child. Do not fret over me, the notion is ridiculous,” hummed Hua. “Though your consideration is a tonic for such old bones.”

Yiji offered a head against which she might brace, and she allowed it, rising. Some small impressions passed between them, having Hua nod in polite dismissal.

What might be said now? What point is first to address?

Each of the grandchildren offered their aid in turn. Again this was dismissed. Hua merely bent as Ershiba roused from her own slumber.

An intensity passed between them.

“There is more time than you think, son-in-law,” spoke the crone-seeming [Spirit Cuckoo]. “Yet less than you wish for.”

“Gao Fu, Shaokang, say your farewells. The Path ahead begins with a step that ought to have been taken yesterday. Bah. Darker indeed are the waters of our rivers and lakes. Darker yet will they become should you delay,” she urged.

Protest came by way of grunt. “To leave the Gao defenceless? No.”

Hushi nodded at Shaokang’s input. “Grandmother Hua leaves no thing to chance.”

“Indeed, Gao Hushi. Our servant has eyes but fails to see,” she cut, though despite the daring of the family brute, her face did not sour. “Their grandfather is a far greater talisman than you might know in ten lifetimes. Their safety is his now.”

Many whispers arose that Fu knew he could not address. Even so, he presented Mubu in simple gestures. “All will be shared,” he said, turning to the [Barefoot Emperor]. “Father-in-law, I demand nothing of you. As blood of your blood, I would only offer the choice to do as you see fit.”

Rare, humming laughter cut through the air. “Chuangkaui, Mubu, our beloved oafs. This son-in-law behaves well, does he not?”

Mubu grinned. “Tempered by many scoldings, no doubt. Yes, Gao Fu. I’m of the inclination. Don’t think my crown binds me so tightly, and if it did it wouldn’t be my crown, no? Gya-ha-ha! Grandchildren! If only I wasn’t as poor as a beggar I’d shower you in allowances.”

Of the three, Feng made to speak.

Yuling lifted a hand. “Brother, our Father’s duty.”

“Gratitude, sister. I am aware. This time I wished to be the first to say farewell.”

And so it went, beginning in an embrace that neither Hushi, Shuidi nor Fu wished would ever end. He passed each of his children in turn, brushing hair and sweeping the dew from Yuqi’s cheek, squeezing Yuling until she might burst and suggesting his son might get a haircut while he was away.

It had grown unseemly, like that of a musician.

To An he only smiled, offering a high bow.

Then to Yasodhara, ever last, he paused. “Grandmother?”

“Bah. Yes, if it wished,” said Hua. “Come, Yasodhara, Samudra. The part you will play is small, and your own, but you may join us if both you wish it and you move swiftly. Now, no more of this sentimentality. The Heavens care not for such fleeting moments. Jade Songbird Province grows more chaotic the longer that oaf of a reincarnator awaits me.”

🀩

Reincarnator.

Scriptures had guessed at it.

Mentioned.

There was much daoist reasoning and terminology to sift through in order to discover the truth. Timely pursuits and a greater breadth of knowledge were no things that Fu could reasonably chase with all his rising pressures.

Thus-

[Dour Faced Strategist] had just finished a set of three evil-warding gestures as cherry blossom petals tore about Mingqin’s throne room. A single glimpse of this was all Shuidi’s [Senses] might glean before a ruinous qiang of blackened metal was thrust before them.

Little had changed since Fu’s departure save for the yawning doors at this hall’s end, open to all elements.

Lianse’s name was synonymous with [Demons]. Immortal scribes, artists, calligraphers, poets and performers across her millenia had lavished her in unwanted renown, weaving masterpieces of each craft to detail her tenure.

Her Martial [Prowess] was peerless.

Her tactical acumen.

The very hands upon her qiang’s haft held more endings than the setting sun.

Thunder was akin to a mouse’s whisper when her proclamations began, as it did now, wielding some thousands of moons experience at the first utterance. “Gao F-”

“Waste no more words, Lianse,” scolded the [Cherry River Sage], marching through Mingqin’s filagree halls without further regard. “Where is the fool?”

“[Cherry River Sage],” noted [Dour Faced Strategist]. “The fool? You speak of Yongwu Long. He has gone to address matters before Mingqin’er’s- before the City Lord’s estate. It is in hand. Better we spend time on what is to be done after, if Gao Fu has apprised you of the situation?”

Hua walked onward.

Lianse called out her name before frowning sharply. “This much is to be expected. Gao Fu, I do not relish this boon of which I asked you. Long is impossibility enough, and now we hold two sources of infuriation. Hmm. If indeed you have won her to this cause.”

“Grandmother is a cause unto herself,” Fu admitted. “But she is here and her intentions are rarely unjust. Forgive my swiftness,” he continued, giving chase to Hua as she swanned through the open gates.

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Only Yasodhara wore regality as she followed. Shaokang and Waipi merely trudged.

An expansion of [Senses] revealed many omens.

It was natural that retribution be sought for Long’s crippling of the [Cherry River Spear] disciple, however the ranking of that nameless unfortunate was not personal or inner. Strange then, that an Inheritor would visit in person to correct this slight.

Of soft, cherry-blossom hued beard, and grandfatherly essence, a short-statured, elderly man floated in the space before Yongwu Long. This in itself was no Heaven-defying feat, no, that came from the immensity of shade his Bond cast from above.

Jade Songbird Province was swallowed in the blackened silhouette of a [Spirit Tortoise], similarly afloat, yet of such a scale that Fu could not see its end beyond any horizon.

“Bah,” waved away Hua, mirroring an identical noise from Ershiba upon her shoulder. “So unseemly. A child of plump cheeks is endearing. This-” she waved. “-is fat and indulgence.”

Further disasters awaited.

A Vajra stood some strides before Yongwu Long, and in this simplicity he shone like the greatest of beacons. Great prayer beads of golden wood hung around his neck like the anchors of a colossal vessel, but lay against a robe that could be made from nothing more fine than burlap or hemp. He was a lax-faced oddity, accompanied by a grand [Spirit Lion] at his rear and attended to by a further three cultivators.

One of which Fu knew.

That is Master Zhenpin of the Ninth Golden Reserve. The daoist-clerk that manages our finances. Third husband to [Ninth Under Heaven]. Branch-leader of Divine Clouded Mountain’s treasury. Few would stand before him if not the clan head.

His [Spirit]- no, [Arbiter’s Soul] could not bridge the gulf of these monsters. It could not fathom the chasm between them, and panged at the mere thought of parsing their talents.

[Ninth Under Heaven] smiled at Hau’s approach.

The comparatively lesser Sects, of which some hundred thousand cultivators belonged: those that plagued Mingqin’s streets, approach, rooftops and skies - did not.

Under these Heavens, Fu barely regarded them.

Now was the meeting of dragons, not carp.

Long was half-lounged upon Mingqin’s steps, idly leaning against a grand effigy of multiple golden songbirds in flight. His posture only slightly shifted as Hua made her presence truly known.

“All this fuss for a young woman. What ancients conduct themselves in such a fashion? Bah, really.”

Immortals could not claim surprise, their [Senses] went beyond that.

Perhaps it was a different emotion that whitened the [Cherry River Spear’s] face. “Sister Hua. Do these wizened eyes deceive me? The Cherry River flows in all places, truly, that we might be reunited in so shallow a puddle.”

[Ninth Under Heaven] bowed deeply, as did the entirety of his force. “Great Jinghui Hua, [Cherry River Sage]. Amituofo. This day is brighter for your appearance.”

Her hum then was sharp, and Shuidi grew mirthful at the collective sweat that ran upon these hundred thousand souls.

“Sage,” smiled Long.

Grandmother Hua levelled her eyes upon him before cutting short the words of the myriad other cultivators that thought themselves important enough to address her. “Do not conflate your presence with substance, oafs. A caterpillar writhes atop that leaf there and a dozen songbirds crest that roof, the merit of their input is of the same ranking as your own. Bah. Chutu, your presence here makes mountains of molehills.”

“One cannot say this brazen youth is a molehill, sister,” shook Chutu, the [Cherry River Spear]. “Of all things are you aware, thus you are not blind to her transgressions. [Dances Upon An Ivory Sea] acted with villainy and must be brought to justice. I had thought it fitting to send a promising disciple in my place, yet this youth of my household was crippled by the actions of Yongwu Long. To act in such a fashion aligns him with the fugitive. All within this Jade Songbird Province must be reminded of propriety.”

The [Cherry River Sage] swatted his words aside. “Lord Ninth. You are not unreasonable. What personal stake do you hold in this? Time is wealth in your eyes, and the Ninth Golden Reserve are the antithesis to frivolity.”

“Amituofo. This ninth-rate daoist knows only scales, and how they might be balanced. [Dances Upon an Ivory Sea] has tipped the Clear Sky towards chaos.”

Hua fluttered a trail of light into the space above, each a pulsating star. Violence was not borne of them however, and in place of such expectation the stars expanded into a medley of images.

First of Ivory Sea and her second, [Sullen Saber], putting some countless number of cities, cultivators and…

Fu saw an ocean freeze with the simplicity of a [Winter] puddle, damning a continent-sized expanse to eternal rest. Therein lay fish, boats, a marvel of a floating city - the mortals, children and cultivators alike encased in her ice - then he witnessed the brutal slaughter of myriad robed individuals.

Serpents.

Those of the Cherry River.

Cultivators in possession of the [Mantra of Heavenly Plums].

Innocents clad in the Numbered prayer robes of the One Hundred and Eight, slain with dispassion.

A history passed before these gathered souls, and the [Cherry River Sage’s] power was so immense that each breathed and lived it, having it burned atop their memories despite the mania of swift, flickering images.

All things. All Paths. All Crossroads. For all its uses, is this not burden manifest?

Ivory Sea’s full three hundred moons became known to this crowd.

“A youth of poor choices indeed. Bah. How impetuous the young are. Do you not agree, little Chutu?”

If ire might rise at the disrespect, the [Cherry River Spear] did well to mask it. His skin had not yet regained colour.

Shuidi hinted at [Ninth Under Heaven], who possessed equal composure.

“Hua, do not twist words. Were I to agree you would merely accuse this seat of acting the same,” considered the [Cherry River Spear]. “The Cherry River act as Pillars of our beloved Clear Sky. Truth is as a spear, clear and direct. It will not be dissuaded from its course.”

Sister, do not-

“This Gao Shuidi would ask further on such truth,” loudly proclaimed the prideful [Spirit Crab] upon Fu’s shoulder. “[Dances Upon an Ivory Sea] is a grain upon a mountain. What all here seek are the lands upon which it rises.”

Long barked out a laugh. “My, little Chutu, your [Dao Name] has been seized by another! Few are as qiang-like as Gao Shuidi,” he said, lifting dramatically from his lean to address all. “It is practically written upon the wind, so why don’t we give it voice?”

Some thousand disciples cried out in outrage.

“Venerable Spear,” called one at Chutu’s shoulder. “This humble disciple would not presume to know your will, but such words of disrespect are enough to boil blood. Please, allow me to end this fool.”

“Ah,” shook the [Cherry River Spear]. “My beloved disciples. Do not be angered on this old spear’s behalf. What is the spear’s first lesson?”

“Once thrown, it must be retrieved.”

“[Once thrown, a spear must be retrieved,]” offered the [Cherry River Spear].

The [Profundity] of this statement was maddening in sight alone. From the last flick of the aged cultivator’s tongue there came an exaltation of gold.

A river.

Even blind to another’s insight as he was, the sentiment, [Intent] and meaning behind this was enough to have Fu brace against it.

Not one amongst the spear’s disciples still stood.

Not one amongst the unimportant masses still stood.

A glimpse into the nature of immortality was all that arrived in Fu’s mind. A staggering gap that resounded with the word all.

For all cultivators fell into [Epiphany]. All [Spirit Beasts]. All citizens behind their barricaded doors. All children.

All winds.

Of the sensations, Fu noted this the most. How [Karma] reverberated at the statement, as though lessened for sharing such a truth.

Long, Hua and Fu remained upright.

Neither Yasodhara or Samudra were conscious.

Shaokang looked at his knuckle. “Consequences? Matriarch Hua, is this the [Cherry River Spear’s] great insight? A punch cannot be unpunched.”

His [Spirit Crocodile], Waipi, grumbled.

No small jubilation overcame Long. “Oh? Hua, is this… have you taught this brute my techniques?”

The [Cherry River Sage] hummed all into focus. “Chutu.”

“The boy undermines a hundred moons of training. For his loosened tongue, I have spoiled my disciples. Let us talk with more civility, sister,” he said. “If sharpness is wished, I shall deliver it.”

“Amituofo,” dipped [Ninth Under Heaven], laying his husbands and their [Spirit Toads] gently down. “Much must be discussed.”

“Much? No. There’s only the pretense of this ‘behaviour’ and the reality,” cut Hau. “Let it be known that to seize Jade Songbird Province this way is to invite ruin. Have the millenia overcome your reason? When the first blood is spilled, it will not stop.”

Wrinkles sharpened across the [Cherry River Spear], and much age was lost as true expression surfaced upon his face. “Overcome reason? You forget yourself, dear sister. I am Chutu Deqiang, [Cherry River Spear] and [Primordial Lord of Order]. Do not think yourself alone in knowledge of what is to come. Accusations of rashness are mere insult to one that has orchestrated all that I have. I urge you reconsider your words, Hua, for you have seen my workings across these millenia.”

Order. Indeed he is fabled for his charity of knowledge, his endless libraries and catalogues. Is this a manifestation of his [Primordial Law]? What power might he wield with such a crown?

“Bah. Even ordained and planned, these acts come across as childish. To intervene personally, Chutu, you have waned,” she tutted. “More so that you have come alone. The [Hollow Throne] is not intended for any of the Cherry River.”

“The Cherry River. You forfeited the right to speak of it,” he shook. “Even knowing all things you are blind to much.”

[Ninth Under Heaven] took a single step. “Amituofo. Venerable Hua speaks the truth. But it is known well that her orchestrations are unrivalled. [Karma] herself shudders at her preparation, thus, it could be asked - whom does she support if not those most favoured to sit upon it?”

“Hmm? That would be me,” laughed Long.

Chutu laughed back, if incredulously.

The Vajra Lord did not.

How could he know such a thing?

Fu’s skepticism rose, for there were many things at work here that he did not understand. Still, he knew best when to bite his tongue.

“Old acquaintances should not speak so informally,” Hua warned. “Bah. Know this, Chutu, Lord Ninth. As many feet litter the byways of this world as petals upon all shores. Righteous. Villainous. Detached. Kind. Wrathful. Impressions coloured by hues that only bare remnants of yore might even name. That one holds a hue aligned closest to the Empress’ will. I see bare hints of the same within your own.”

From any other, these words would have courted death.

The [Hollow Throne] was a prize for all to covet, and Fu felt pride that Grandmother Hua could keep these dragons’ immortal fury restrained.

“A thousand gratitudes,” dipped [Ninth Under Heaven]. “Amituofo. Grace indeed. To know one’s intentions is a priceless treasure, and the great [Cherry River Sage] knows the hearts of most before they themselves recognise what lies within. This ninth-rate daoist feels the scales begin to balance.”

As expected of a Vajra Lord. His words are sweeter than honey and twice as golden.

“Feh-heh-heh,” joylessly laughed [Cherry River Spear]. “Not even you, dear sister, can restrain the Jianghu’s full avarice. Greed is the current of all waters and lakes! Throughout all ages there has never burned a greater flame than ambition. Let this fog recede, Hua, share further how this upstart shall claim what even serpents and plums aspire to.”

Long sunk his gaze atop Fu as though he had turned prey. “Iseul held a novel idea. A tournament wasn’t it, Gao Fu? These ravening dogs might be sated with such a taste,” he pondered, dramatically snapping his fingers. “Ah! A contest for the Jianghu’s future would be fitting no? The young geniuses of these lands. Fresh blood staked for the fate of coming generations. Does little Chutu not have some personal disciple in his flock that might enter on his behalf? One with arms, preferably.”

Strangest yet was the look that [Ninth Under Heaven] and [Cherry River Spear] as they finally set their eyes upon him.

No ghost would welcome such a weight.

Not from beings older than history.

Not from-

Hostile [Senses] expanded across them, and in the following moments Shuidi loosed a venomous sneer. “The [Sovereign Clouded Existences Art] fools even these immortals. See our peerless talents vex them. This Gao Shuidi knew her voice had not been heard. It is a crime they thought Yongwu Long was alone in throwing insults. It shall be rectif-”

“Venerables,” greeted Fu, dispelling his suppression before calamity could escape from the [Spirit Crab’s] maw. “I offer my forgiveness for remaining silent. This meeting was of dragons, and amongst you all I fear my contribution would be little.”

“What is that?” peered [Cherry River Spear].

Ershiba was content to spectate until now, breaking her silence with a single, resounding caw. “Little Chutu should put in his eyes. These are our sons and daughter-in-law.”

A wavering note entered the spear’s speech. “Son-in-law?”

[Ninth Under Heaven] caressed one of his myriad beads, his expression unknowable. “Amituofo. Gao Fu. This is the name Yongwu Long offered. Be at peace, for when a cloud speaks it is wise to listen. This ninth-rate daoist offers his ears as you make yourself known.”

Fu, Hushi and Shuidi took center stage, dipping their douli. “We have no introduction but that of familial ties. I am Gao Fu, Patriarch of Cloud Dragon Hall, warden of treasures only the [Cherry River Sage] and [Barefoot Emperor] hold dearest.”

Chutu considered him as one might a fly in their noodles. “You-”

“Amituofo. Please, venerable spear, this ninth-rate daoist offered an ear. Much gratitude will be offered if you allow this to remain true,” interjected the Vajra Lord.

“Already do I stir trouble. Apologies, that is not our intention. All we might say is that Yongwu Long’s tournament holds merit. When the sea meets the mountain, none might stand to tell tale of the victor. Any here might overturn the Heavens with a single hand- but with your support we might prevent tragedy. A tournament to gain ownership of Jade Songbird Province and the trove that will appear within. Between Long and I, the authority is ours to grant. Undisputed.”

Immortals thought nothing of time. Hushi however, urged that they leave this jian’s edge before disaster claimed all.

[Ninth Under Heaven’s] attitude came as surprise. “A dangerous wind. This ninth-rate daoist hears it upon your words. Knowing all that is known, is this your will, venerable [Cherry River Sage]?”

“With all that I know, and much that you do not,” she returned, brandishing her gaze like that of an axe against brittle trunks.

“Amituofo,” he dipped. “Then this ninth-rate daoist would ask a final thing of Yongwu Long.”

Long was occupied with a finger in his ear, but shirked his shoulders in reply.

“Release your hold. The strain on your [Core] is clear, Yongwu Long. Amituofo. This ninth-rate daoist would see your ascension to immortality and know the name that the [Boundless Dao] call out in response.”

[Cherry River Spear] nodded, as if this fact was as clear as limpid water.

The [Fatherly Asura] could only take this madness in stride, speaking inwardly. “Long walks around on the cusp of immortality? They speak as though it is a droplet away. If truth, we are blind fools for walking beside him unaware.”

Hushi and Shuidi impressed little, for the state of these affairs had grown well beyond them.

Volcanic heat erupted from Long’s four [Spirit Carp] as they orbited about him, igniting the cultivator himself faster than a hummingbird’s wingbeat. Golden flames engulfed the surrounding stairs, turning them molten beneath his feet as the intensity grew to such an extent that even Shuidi could not see within them.

[Arbiter’s Soul].

Fu’s [Primordial Law] scraped against his [Spirit] as all that was gleaned from Yongwu Long transcended beyond his understanding.

It read as blank.

As was said, immortals cared not for time. Thus, the hours passed in violent expectation.

A chime resounded to mark its end.

Yongwu Long emerged unscathed from his golden flames, standing no greater nor more resplendent than when they had commenced. All majesty was reserved for the impossibility of dragons that now crowded Mingqin’s approach.

Four radiant myths of flaming mane and regal whisker that coiled about their cultivator with grand, serpentine lengths. The claws upon each of their two arms were that of Heavenly luster, black-tipped against the golden sheen of scale and horn, though this said nothing for the ever-shifting maelstrom of light within their eyes.

Certainty was the [Dao] upon them.

Fortune.

Judgement.

Endings.

Tribulation.

And yet, Beginnings resonated with the wind in the [Fatherly Asura’s] soul.

More so did True Change.

Such spectacle did not diminish the second chime, nor the golden characters that entered his mind though a peerlessly vacant expression.

“[True Golden Demon],” dipped [Ninth Under Heaven. “Amituofo. This ninth-rate daoist greets an old foe. Come, venerable spear. Here is a weightless treasure. Let none here tip the scales further than this.”

Hua hummed approvingly.

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