Fatherly Asura

These things were more than shambling corpses.

They were vengeance incarnate.

Fu’s motion was ceaseless for no less than that was required to evade their hungering, [Demonic] force as it continually grasped for his [Spirit]. Tethers of oozing crimson string trailed from his every leap, vault and blur, tracking him with such preternatural deftness that one might have thought the [Karmic Ties] between them were sewn upon his very soul.

Much like these fiends, the days had not relented. But prey could not fret over such things.

Time was a luxury.

As were unbroken heartbeats and the chance to breath.

[Wind Phantom’s Breath].

Fruitless mist fumed through the endless mass of corrupted things. Representations, harbingers, spirits or ghosts, it mattered not, only the half-blink of reprieve such an act bought.

Indeed, mist rushed, and they fell upon him once more.

With haste upon his tongue, Fu called his [Dao of Four Horizons] to whisk him into acrid, foul-tasting skies, and the collective responded as though a seamless wave - rising, seeking with their grim and tattered robes a-flap as they soared in pursuit.

His smile did not fade.

“Such danger. Truly, a [Trial] befitting a [Primordial Lord of Tribulations]. Are we not blessed to be so harassed and outmatched?”

Hushi and Shuidi affected their own mirth at the sentiment.

Jian-like claws raked at their shoulder; wrist; neck; arm; gut; [Core]; fingers; and in truth, each part of their ephemeral flesh.

Yet for all its uses, the [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] did not shield against this.

A purity of refined meaning savaged three gashes along Fu’s spine, bleeding both the physical flesh and his [Spiritual] form, diminishing all he might bring to bear.

His [Dao] waivered.

His [Mind] muddied.

To put into what words the consumption of one’s soul felt like could only be saved for those of greater learning and eloquence. Suffice it to say, the development of a fitting [Qi Suppression] technique was not aided by such ravaging.

But the [Fatherly Asura] would be not be unmade so swiftly.

[Pull].

Fu, Hushi and Shuidi glowed in sinister crimson as his fist tore into the nearest unliving chest, and from this they drew all. Some malign approximation of Qi, flesh, [Profundity] and untouchable energy flooded into their palm.

These beings possessed no inherent defence against it.

One by one, amongst a further orchestra of reaching claws, Shuidi discarded all that they could not use.

The Qi was not of their [Affinity], nor was the flesh of any value. To consume [Profundity] like this was not their Path.

What remained was a fleeting string of [Karma].

A slipping thread.

Over the past days Shuidi had learnt its shape, and now… now it had held for a thousandth of a heartbeat before escaping her pincers once more.

Again.

🀙

Zhu’s [Mantra of Heavenly Plums] gave intrinsic understanding to the forces of [Karma], and the [Dao] that accompanied either his own insight or some facet of his [Bloodline] further trivialized the Path of this worldly force.

[String-eating Soulfoam] was Fu’s answer to his brother’s [Prowess].

Poison.

This, however, was no key to what he sought.

At the first [Season’s] turn he had fallen into such a line of thought. Perhaps he might discharge a continuous stream of this peerless poison, or loose it upon his breath to hide him from [Karma’s] cloying grasp.

No.

Claws raked, swifter now at this turn of [Spring].

Fu lurched a myriad sidelong steps, evading one, ten, a hundred and more as his eternal pursuers plunged for what remained of his [Spirit].

As many as raindrops from a hate-filled sky.

“The foundation is complete,” he voiced. “Let us commence.”

Six arms wove in the fashion of [Array Masters] and [Alchemists], foolishly and loud, yet Hushi’s motions served an equal purpose. The sway of his limbs demanded much of their [Dao of Conquest’s Exhalation], binding all gusts - both subtle and grand - into a helical stream about their three forms.

So rose another.

And another.

Sister.

Fu’s internal voice was strained and bloody. “Sister,” it urged.

The [Spirit Crab] sneered. “Perfection cannot be rushed. Since when do the [Primordial Lords of Tribulation] succumb to so meager a struggle?”

Her weave differed from the tireless Hushi’s, and in his mind he heard her will forth the [Dread Leviathan’s Call].

Done not as a domain or eruption, but a mirror of these helical threads.

Thus came a thousand leaps and sidelong steps as subdued gale met refined [Intent]. Fu was merely the fulcrum for these forces.

The origin.

This dance maintained for three days.

Three nights.

For each passing breath there accumulated another hundred [Karmic Ties].

Another mountain of [Spiritual] tethers.

Could Fu glean them beyond the first bite- wherein they faded from sight - he was uncertain if his vision would be clear.

The total comprised that of mountains and seas.

Endless in number.

He-

All the world was consumed in dark-crimson ends. Severed strings that snapped back as if the thousand, thousand heads of scolded vipers.

Grim air rushed to fill Fu’s lungs, and from this wellspring did he drink greedily. What fetid meaning was interred within the winds paled against the freedom of his [Spirit] as the [Karmic] shackles were rebuked.

Shuidi was greatest among them in [Senses]. Peerless. To take a grain of feeling, isolate it, and acclimatize their technique to it…

“Sister, brother, you are truly without equal.”

For the first moment in a [Season] these three souls merely stood. Further breaths were taken as the beings of [Tribulation] ceased their motions entirely, albeit without the confusion one might see in intelligent souls.

The viper-like threads of [Karma] - what he felt now as [Karmic Retribution], wrath or vengeance - wormed from their chests like loose ribbons in a turbulent wind.

Searching.

[Ink] burned.

Yet it was not enough.

Fu bid their newfound technique to lapse.

Again.

🀙

The second [Season] passed into the third.

Despite their [Ink’s] repeated burning, the technique was not yet complete. To lattice wind, [Dao] and [Intent] into a singular form did not come on instinct, and such a failure could not enter their Path.

It took moments to conjure the… dramatically-titled new technique.

[Unseen Immortal Spectral Wind Masking Art]

Fu toiled over the foundation as a jeweller might fuss over filagree and the setting of diamonds, having refined his own [Senses] for the dismissal of [Karma]. While the characters upon his [Ink] read as [Earthly Ascension] and [Middle], he thought this only a reflection of the technique’s complexity, not of true [Prowess].

Now he prowled into the greatest density of the Vengeful Spirits, flickering his technique between activation and not.

His Martial [Prowess] bore fruit from this, but was inconsequential in the moment.

A day passed.

The refinement of his helical strings grew.

Another.

The compression of their [Intent] bore greater strength.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Shuidi fumed when the third [Season] drew to a close. “[Karmic Ties]. What lever do we miss that enables one to touch it?”

“Zhu mentioned little. HIs [Bloodline] would make knowledge of it obsolete. He did not need to know, thus, he does not. Our only solace lies in the manipulation of Qi. Much as the [Dao] are of tantamount importance in even nudging this [Karmic] force.”

Hushi stroked his brow, pensive.

“It acts as the [Dao of Conquest’s Exhalation] does. An intermediary. We demand the wind touches and dissuades what we alone cannot. To refine this technique, we must consolidate such a touch. Have it manifest in our flesh or [Spirit].”

In truth, he only spelled out what they had endeavoured to do for these past [Seasons].

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Once more Shuidi fumed, clacking in disdain.

Another day passed.

Another.

The domain of their [Qi Suppression] had grown to that of the [Clouded Ghost Arts] prior strength. Farther, perhaps. As was the equilibrium reached with all that moved in their surroundings. Still, it lacked.

A projected veil.

An outer technique that could not align with their flesh and [Spirit].

Invisible to Qi. Invisible to these [Spirits]. Invisible to [Karma]-

How far will these thoughts wander? Frustration gains nothing, and these [Seasons] will be wasted in complacency should it continue. I see now the folly of this.

“We try to replicate a technique that is no longer our own. All we have gained from our [Dao] cannot be ignored,” he said, and his words blew through the unwitting sea of Vengeful Spirits about them. “Brother, sister, do you recall what once we concluded?”

Eight arms tightened upon him. “We were merely a fledgling wind.”

“Just so,” nodded Fu. “Yet this was before the [Fatherly Asura]. Before claiming our role as [Primordial Lords of Tribulation]. It is time to reconcile what was, what is, and what will be. Let us shed the castings of fledgling wind, and become it incarnate. Our Path is True Change. That of Ever-Shifting Cloud. The moment to embody that must be now.”

Shuidi pushed a roaming spirit aside, gusting air to widen the distance between them. “This peerless Mistress grew weary awaiting this decision. Let it be so.”

“Let it be so.”

The three leapt into an embracing sky, where they entered the lotus upon a cushion of turbulent wind. A mantra fled from their lips, tinting the air in unsubtle gold. “Through strife we are the crisis. Through being, we are the opportunity. As in wind, transformation, as in rain, necessity, united they are the cloud, holding both in promise. Such is the essence of our Path. Such is the essence of us.”

As one, it was uttered.

[Dao of Four Horizons].

All they had manifested raged into Heavenly tempest. A gold-patterned fury screamed about them, fusing the helical threads and suppressed winds into a surging maelstrom with these three as the eye of this great madness.

A vast, primordial hurricane obliterated the surrounding realm.

The Vengeful Spirits.

The Qi.

The [Karma].

It tore as though the Heaven’s own breath was loosed upon this realm. A scouring borne of ancient, impossible anger that ranged for li upon li upon li, claiming all skies and earth without prejudice.

[Pull].

This storm waivered.

[Pull].

Through the [Shrine of Final Skies] and their [Dao of Conquest’s Exhalation], the raging tempest began to submit.

But not all.

Certain strands within the storm refused, heedless of the [Fatherly Asura’s] might. That which governed [Karma] were torn in allegiance, for surely a wind that could bring even this force to heel was unworthy of consumption-

“We are crisis and opportunity. We are the dangerous wind,” warned Fu.

“The [Primordial Lords of Tribulation] will not ask again,” clacked Shuidi.

[Pull].

The very will of all winds shattered, becoming no more than a singular cord of singular purpose. Words did not exist to describe the violence of how it entered Fu, Hushi and Shuidi’s [Core], nor the excruciating tear as they demanded it twist within them.

Through [Channels], [Meridians], [Core] and flesh.

Refining.

Tempering.

Melding with the winds of their [Spirit]-

No.

Returning to its rightful place, subservient and equally part-of the vessels of True Change and Ever-Shifting Cloud.

🀙

[Ink] burned with such regularity across the remaining [Seasons] that Fu might have thought his flesh aflame.

Techniques came.

Martial [Prowess].

His [Qi Suppression Art] soared.

Fu Gao’s domain was their [Dao], and so these went untouched.

Indeed he seized the freedom Mubu had granted with the most time-consuming aspect of their cultivation.

[MERIDIAN CLEANSED]

[Might] +70

[Control] +45

[Capacity] +45

[Pull] +30

[Push] +30

[Spirit] +5

This message burned threefold.

Hushi was curious to what extent this might affect Yongwu Long. Of all cultivators, rivals and friends alike, his meteoric rise was the greatest metric against which to weigh themselves.

The memory of his clash with [Sullen Saber] was freshly ingrained in their thoughts. Somehow, Long had ascended his own talents by leaps and bounds. In mere days or perhaps, without notice, he had risen to the proficiency of an immortal without crossing the threshold of the [True Lord Realm].

“A thing we will query upon return,” said Fu.

“I see this fresh technique doesn’t remove sound,” noted Mubu, suddenly there amidst the subdued sea of Vengeful Spirits.

The [Fatherly Asura] did not startle. “Father-in-law. We simply did not wish to be rude,” they said, levelling a bow. “Gratitude. This opportunity has brought us much.”

Changkuai clucked upon the [Barefoot Emperor’s] shoulder, quirking his head at each of the myriad corpses.

Dusty piles, for little else remained of the Vengeful Spirits.

“Oh? We are not to thank for leading the horse to water, only for extending the river from which it might drink.The opportunity comes from you, Gao Fu, Hushi and Shuidi.”

Fu smiled, flaring [Primordial Law] from his palm. “Even so.”

As if paint scoured from a canvas, the [Tribulation Realm] dispersed. All faded into the endless reeds of Mubu’s [Season]-shfting domain, though these were now of inordinately large scale and hued like that of rubies.

“I see you’ve grown,” offered Mubu, waving his hand about Fu’s person. “My eyes are quite sharp when focused, and yet… Changkuai, what are we looking at?”

“No more and no less than the Clouds.This blood of our blood indeed embodies their [Law]. The hard route. Tempered. Easier to simply flood the bones of their previous technique with [Primordial Qi].”

Shuidi had no brows to furrow, but furrow they did. “One’s elders must be respected, yes? Know that this is all that binds my words.”

[Primordial Qi]. We hold only the amount our [Constellation Seeds] contain. Though if Mubu knows a method to gain more it might only benefit us.

Despite these thoughts, Fu did not voice them. “Our intentions are not to cheapen the moment, yet Grandmother Hua awaits. Though I wish to stand among these pleasant winds a while longer, duty and time wait for no soul.”

“Do they not?” laughed Mubu. “Strange, for I’m certain they both waited for you not some moments ago. Very well. Brace, perhaps, or ready yourself. While a distant memory, I’ve an inkling that the leap between multiple realms was taxing for those beneath immortality.”

Fu smiled. “Your concern is touching, father-in-law. However, I would know how-”

All that he had cultivated proved a candle in the wind as Mubu’s calloused hand grasped his shoulder, no less than shunting him forward before [Might] or [Senses] were even aware. Lacking pomp accompanied the leap between this land and the [Primordial Realm] which was opened much like the widening of a mortal’s screen door.

Within the [True Orchid Path] they had danced from [Paifang] to [Paifang], and across their great tenure a thousand lands had been walked.

They braced against a sudden disharmony of [Spirit] as their [Spire of Tribulations] swiftly rose before them, coddled by a blanket of [Primordial] mists.

While he had not conversed at length on the realities of this realm, he was certain that Mubu shouldn’t be able to walk so freely in what he viewed as his domain. Nor should the Heavenly surely allow his hand to whisk into the turbulent cloud that comprised it.

“Something amiss?” asked the [Barefoot Emperor].

“We have spent less time here than we ought to. The rules… From what we have seen of you, father-in-law, rules do not apply to you. Whether this by merit of you, or some facet of your Path, I cannot say. Only that we are uncertain.”

Mubu and Chuangkuai exchanged a smirk. “Ah. Well if you’re of a mind to guess… hmm, let us say that our spire isn’t confined to the same shape as your own. The crown we wear is antithetical to its own existence. One might say you currently walk through it.”

Shuidi clacked. “The [Primordial Law of Wandering]. Would this not suit your [Dao Name]?”

A rare grunt surfaced in Hushi. “Wandering’s spire would hold shape. The [Barefoot Emperor] embodies that of freedom.”

The pair in question both clucked.

[Primordial Lords of Freedom]. A true duality when one considers Grandmother Hua. Matchmakers are prone to saying that opposites attract. One day when all is calm, yes, when all is calm I will ask for the story of how this came to be.

“Freedom cannot be confined, thus, a crown cannot exist. One cannot rule freedom and so you are both its Lord and not?” queried Fu.

Childishly, Mubu lifted a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell the [Boundless Dao]. Even the Heavens haven’t parsed such a truth.”

They had walked to the boundary of Fu’s domain, and now the curtain of [Primordial] mists approached. This threshold to the remainder of the [Primordial Realm] took much to cross, as he well knew, but his only-minutes-prior [Trial] had afforded greater insight.

Shuidi and Fu brushed it aside with a moderate flex of will, parting the tide. One step beyond the [Spirit Crab] allowed her cultivation to reflect externally, embracing the aspects of each [Constellation Seed] until once more she was a towering, radiant specimen of her [Heritage] with space in abundance for all others to ride.

Such an act required focus, but Fu was urged to consolidate his [Ink] before they faced whatever madness was to come.

[Sovereign Clouded Existences Art]

[Sky Sundering],[Middle] attained.

[Control] +250, [Capacity] +200, [Push] +150, [Might] +150

And on.

[True WInd God Arts]

[Earthly Ascension], [Peak] attained.

[Might] +350, [Control] +250, [Push] +250

And on.

[Three Wisps From Breath]

[Sky Sundering], [Early] attained.

[Capacity] +200, [Push] +200, [Pull] +150

And on.

[Art] ascended.

[Half Cloud Step] - [Clouded Sovereign’s Departure] Mastery of both inner and outer Qi domains bend the energies of your ambient [Affinities], suffusing you with strength far beyond that of your current limitations.

To reach equilibrium with these changes within the [Primordial Realm] delivered a strange ecstasy over the usual calibration of flesh and [Spirit]. With so great a swell in attributes from the myriad sources of refined techniques…

Hushi steadied Fu, gently squeezing an arm around his neck.

Yes. It would not do to lose oneself here.

There came a shrill hum that re-centered the [Fatherly Asura], and he looked then upon a novelty that even immortals might not see twice.

That of a [True Saint Realm] cultivator, flinching.

“One oaf meets the other. Bah. Mubu, husband, have you not had us wait long enough? And you, Gao Fu, the urgency of this request must have fallen on deaf ears. The nature of wind is to be wayward, yet this is no excuse for tardiness,” intoned the [Cherry River Sage’s] thrice-severed [Spirit]. “Bah. Well? Have you no words, husband? Deliver them now while I am bound, and you might yet survive our true reunion.”

Lofty was Grandmother Hua’s height.

Supreme.

Heaven-touching.

Mubu crossed it as though plucking plums from a low-tree. What he wore upon his face was unknowable, nor a thing for Fu to intrude upon.

Had we thought our children’s lives ended… if our roles were reversed and Mei had fled without warning. Would we feel anger, perhaps? Loss? Sadness or longing are a certainty. This situation is complex beyond all things, yet for all its auspicious nature, [Primordial Law], severed [Spirits] and [Hollow Thrones]- is it not so mortal?

Something raw panged between Hushi, Shuidi and Fu’s chests, and they looked away from the scene to grant what little privacy they could.

Minutes passed.

A slap resounded across the [Primordial Realm].

Fu winced as his curiosity finally prompted a glance, revealing a vast change atop the spire there.

Grandmother Hua’s aged flesh was mending before his eyes. Reverting to that of how he knew her now. The surface of her skin became like smoothened jade, as did her shapely figure and youthful visage return in full.

The second slap cracked with enough to force to shatter all mountains across the Clear Sky.

Then did her palm linger upon Mubu’s cheek. Hua’s words however, were directed elsewhere. “Gao Fu. Son-in-law. As the [Cherry River Sage] I will only say that this endeavour took ten [Seasons] longer than it ought to,” she hummed, eyes aflame. “As Grandmother, I extend a gratitude that words alone cannot do justice. Hmm. Yes. There is no repayment I might give save that of your request. Let us travel to your Jade Songbird City, slowly.”

With boldness upon his tongue, Fu replied. “Slowly?”

“Hmm? A day is required to parse all that these myriad moons have obscured from me. Once the [Cherry River Sage] sets her feet upon the Crossroads once more, we will save this little charade of snakes and phoenixes, no?”

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