Five tails wrapped Patriarch Asik, extended from an amber beast that stood at the height of mortal horses. His [Spirit Fox], den with white markings that evoked thoughts of [Ink] throughout its immacute fur.

  Here the gathered now stood, flush with cultivators from the three cns.

  Observing.

  Of Fu’s first notice was the tide- a thing discussed in fraught tones until their departure from Yellow Moon Hall- for it had risen to cast upon the outlying districts of Red. An unkindness of water that wrought havoc where simple droplets would nd.

  [Far Whisper]. Spoken with a reverence much like the [Blight] of Green Blight Valley. This realm is troubled by it, clearly.

  Fissures and ruin gnawed the distant district.

  Growing.

  Conjecture pced tides and this [Far Whisper] as the source, but he would rely on no thing until his own eyes fell upon it.

  A great tremor shifted the district of Orange below, and in turn a marginal shake prompted unsteady, Yellow legs to stumble at Asik’s side.

  Hushi impressed that knowledge of this occurrence transcended what they might glean from the spectating cultivators, speaking wisely as he often did. It drew Fu to follow from his perch, navigating in the octopus’s wake to nd in shadows below.

  Several leaps of [Half Cloud Step] covered several li, such as it was, and the ghosts refrained from conjuring their [Dao of Wayward Breezes] until the powerful cn members were far from their sight.

  However, upon use - thunder.

  Unfurling from wind assailed Fu with a cacophony so violent blood instantly ran from one eardrum. Titanic noises akin to ever falling boulders or a ship’s splintering hull as it was run aground.

  The city revealed more as he danced further through the wind.

  The stacks of Red structures had toppled from this [Far Whisper], and its blight was now evident. Amidst persistent rumbling and colpse of brick and arch, Fu parsed the source through an expansion of auditory [Senses].

  For there, a pilr fell, and at its impact reverberated a dull and mundane crash. But this solitary crash grew, and grew, driving the sound through to the waters beneath Five Silences City and then back again one-thousand fold.

  A wave of unparalleled [Sound Q moved with physical presence, beginning a fresh cascade in all that it reached. It consumed swathes of buildings, and in turn consumed more, and he saw there a vast and unstoppable pgue that would not cease until the city itself was so silent that it could spread no further.

  Then, a chime.

  [Intermediary Wisdom] fred as his catfish intimated what this fresh sound did. Spectral towers were rising at the boundaries of Yellow’s domain, a hundred for the mere ten that appeared within Orange, and these too added to the chorus.

  One chime, and another, and the wave this broke gushed forth in golden light.

  Fu’s breath became silent.

  His step, unchanged, for no true ghost would cim otherwise.

  Five Silences City was swept clean in a stalling silence as the spectral towers- pagodas of guessable affiliation- radiated wave after wave, engulfing the destructive crashes of the [Far Whisper].

  One might sneeze and ensure this city’s downfall. A fragile pce, this.

  All was settled swiftly, and the vast chiming [Array] ensured that the crumbling birthed no further reverberations, allowing Fu to descend into the outskirts proper. A wealth of intrinsic intelligence might rest behind the cloth-doors he passed, or within the homes of Reds, yet a good cook knew when to lift the stew.

  Pinxui’s genius would deliver more, he was certain.

  Thus he pushed a resonance through his brooch, commanding Anfang’s return. It vexed him that without spare treasures of this nature they would merely have to await Su Sai, but the time would afford him a chance.

  One that might rectify his poor judgement.

  So it was that Fu delved into the broken pces of Five Silences City, pouring through the rubble of bricks and crushed corpses. Vexed further, for a dozen homes had not fit his purpose, containing naught but mangled, dust-coated Reds.

  Until Hushi spied a man, scrambling to loose his leg from pinned stone.

  [Might] presented as swiftness for Fu, and it was this same swiftness that discarded his Yellow robes and matching douli with such haste it might have been a single stroke. Yet, more untested was his strength.

  Zhu’s domain.

  A blur took him to the man’s rear, this Red, and another set a considerable block in his single palm. [Might] was not needed to simply drop it atop his skull. Nor for the feats of undressing and redressing.

  No.

  That was reserved for the brutality after, ensuring that the expected messenger of war could bear no identification but that of his blood-stain, Yellow tatters.

  ?

  Routine.

  The breaking of next dawn.

  Fu found merit in the observation of Five Silences City’s reconstruction efforts, done from the Wayward Wind’s cloud-wrapped vantage.

  Routine,

  Dusk settled swiftly.

  Heat-rich lungs heaved within the training hall as Fu watched on expectantly. Awaiting his head schor’s appraisal of the city had escated his thoughts, and so in the gloom of this sanded pit, he had set to ponder.

  The Clouded Courts inauguration.

  Selfishness demanded his own cultivation be improved. It necessitated the [Clouded Ghost Arts] be molded to his [Qi Manifestation] techniques. [Three Wisps from Breath] and the fresh component of his [Stifling Stream Revolutions] unearthed during the phoenix’s trial.

  Such was his foundation.

  And yet, personal strength was a solitary route to power. Backing ensured the same. No cn here would provide resources or benefits save for that which he pilged, but all mortals knew that many hands make light work.

  Hushi lowered the douli’s brim as they approached his juniors.

  “Senior Gao,” resonated from the six gathered beneath Anfang’s tutege.

  One schor and five martial. Suppressed from [Senses]. But is this surface water, or a pool with depths?

  “Disciple Anfang,” he greeted, naming her first as was proper, and “Initiates,” thereafter. “How progresses your training?”

  The six fell into line at Anfang’s command, and her demonstration began. A curious affair, for in a moment all were inverted upon the searing sands of their hall, bare hands supporting them as they banced.

  Her vai-tadar flew then, scything the space before their faces. With dextrous [Control] it sheared not a finger’s width from noses or scalps, bypassing throats or the bridge between legs where male disciples might instinctually block.

  And the initiates did not flinch, neither in pose nor [Qi Suppression].

  A known bde is less fearful. Training in such a way-

  Anfang’s [Spirit Spider] punctured the neck of a single initiate, and had her topple to the sand. The beast progressed swiftly, lingering only to instill uncertainty in the rest. The second fell, the third was spared, the fourth likewise, and for those that remained, Anfang approached.

  An edge met their spines, drawing cruel, thin lines upon flesh. Painful cuts, if superficial enough that any of [Foundation Realm] could heal in hours.

  Fu still held doubt.

  [Killing Intent] leaked from his fingertip, and this he held between not the initiates’ eyes but that of their [Spirit Beasts]. A bloody red force reflected in slitted irises or upon various furs of all he reached.

  One broke where the others maintained their technique, drawing a whimper from the onyx-furred [Spirit Wolf] before him. So, dispassionately, he slickened his hand in the [Innate Soul Impacting Bile] and had it sink into the creature’s skin.

  “Composure, not courage, initiate,” he said, and called for the demonstration to cease. “Disciple Anfang has my gratitude. Her training serves you all well.”

  The skin of the poisoned initiate grew slightly pallid, mirroring the minor [Spiritual] damage her Bond had received. But she bowed despite this, intent on hearing her senior’s words.

  We hold little talent against all the geniuses beneath Heaven, brother, sister. Though our own training was not as long as these initiates. It is time.

  Fu addressed the [Spirit Wolf] and her cultivator. “Return to your quarters, initiate, and reflect on this lesson,” and with haste, they fled. Now left was his aspiring schor and four upon the martial path. “To you that remain, I will extend congratutions. This standard reached is a bare minimum of what is required, and for that, honor comes. In half. To complete your induction an [Oath] must be sworn and a trial surpassed. I would ask you now, who would attempt this?”

  Not a beat of hesitation passed before five cries of “We would, senior,” returned.

  Shuidi crested Fu’s shoulder, bloating her diminutive form to appear more regal than the simple toggle upon his hanfu.

  “Then bind your words to [Dao], and pledge to Wayward Winds. Pledge your loyalty as a ribbon that comprises one whole, to join your intent with those that serve the Clouded Courts and be moulded as the ghosts you might become. Bind your [Dao] to service of shaded practice and unseen deeds that you might better serve the Clouded Court’s interest, to speak no truth of what spectres hold secret and to betray no ideal that they hold secret.”

  And so it went.

  Reverent, five heads bowed, and manes, scales and brows followed. Warmth suffused the air as the Heavens witnessed this vow, drifting a breeze of golden characters about those that were now bound.

  The [Spirit Crab] dipped her head, if marginally, in approval.

  “Rise now, disciples of the Wayward Winds,” he said. “And take leave. Ready yourselves. Come next nightfall, I shall have set the mark for your inauguration.”

  Names. Are these worthy of committing to memory before their final task?

  His thoughts were conjured for a single disciple had risen, unique for the dull brown of his [Ink] and mud-stained appearance of the [Spirit Serpent] aside him. “Senior Gao, this junior disciple would be bold. To best know the path ahead, mustn’t one ask those that have already walked it?”

  Fu granted a rare smile. Such a sentiment was one he shared. “Ask, for it is the poor man that does not give away free treasures.”

  Wary, the disciple averted his gaze. “Then this junior would ask only what to expect so they might best meet estimations.”

  “Disciple Anfang will hold more insight in this,” Fu said. “If she deigns to share it.”

  Curiously, it then appeared as though all had suffered from his [Innate Soul Impacting Bile], for many skins grew paler. Many hands tightened within the sand and a slight tremble passed throughout the gathered.

  “A thousand gratitudes for this guidance. Senior Gao is most benevolent,” managed the mud-hued disciple.

  Anfang coughed.

  ?

  The Path towards immortality was a shift in perspective, Master Ban had once said. An hour to mortals was comparable to a week for those that fought against the Heavens.

  A [Season] to their decade.

  So on.

  Fu pondered that this was owed perhaps, not wholly to an extended lifespan. No. It was that the powerful were rarely troubled by management. Sects held their hierarchy. A Matriarch, their aides. Divisions, such as the Clouded Courts, and then again, the subdivisions.

  A small insight had increased his understanding in the [Clouded Ghost Arts].

  Pinxui’s reports were made.

  Udvah’s vessel had moored.

  An hour, and the dusk he had promised his initiates would arrive.

  It seems I need such a lifespan to deal with the matters of a single afternoon.

  In his quarters, Fu held a fresh plum. One of a looted thousand. A small practice of his, led by Shuidi.

  Her pincer made an incision in its flesh, and the [Red Asp Venom] her second had imbued drew forth by her [Pull]. Bloated, as his was. Yet her [Control] differed. High as his was, but imparted to manipution and external forces where Fu held power in dextrous movement.

  The external sense.

  Fu nodded.

  A fourteenth plum was presented, and the process repeated.

  “[Intent] pys a role in this?” he queried, taking the fifteenth poisoned fruit.

  Shuidi impressed that this was a half truth.

  With a nod and a press of the finger, Fu touched the fresh incision. When skin was pced against skin it allowed the [Red Asp Venom] to be easily drawn forth, transmuted by his [Hundred Immunities Fruit]. He could grasp it, maniputing the flow that [Pull] allowed with varying degrees.

  Swiftly had the poison spsh or divert, akin to worms that burrowed multiple channels to reach the same egress.

  Slow opposed this, and to use it in such a way Fu’s will was able to bolster the driving force, drawing it as a seamstress would a thread.

  To have his hand hover above the skin, his draw was painfully swift.

  Thirty three plums fell victim to his practice until Udvah’s arrival, at a step with Aarushi and Pinxui. An improper act, for the screen to his quarters was drawn with little address, leading these heads of the Wayward Winds to customary bows in greeting.

  Sharp in Pinxui’s case, and reserved in their doctor’s. Udvah met with a natural grin, mischief glinting as he inspected the carcasses of many a shrivelled fruit.

  These heads gathered around a central table, unearthing a pilr of stacked scrolls not a moment before Fu had dispensed his greeting. “Pinxui, are these the reports from Five Silences City? All that I reyed could not be written here, surely?”

  “Sister Anfang’s efforts,” nodded Pinxui, having her [Spirit Ants] rifle through the stack. “It is my belief that we should begin with the [Shores of Heavy Whisper] as a whole. Find here the colted observations and confirmations of location; associations; [Spirit Beast] behaviour-”

  “An oral account, perhaps, Sister. Senior Gao’s time is as precious as moonlight,” suggested Aarushi, a sleeve masking her face.

  Hushi retracted into his douli.

  “If so wished. The fresh March of Serpents has proven to be successfully established, ensnaring these denizens of the [Shores of Heavy Whisper] by severing access to the [True Orchid Path]. As of now, we Wayward Winds appear to be the solitary organization able to traverse the shattered [Paifang], and only by the grace of Senior Udvah’s [Shaving of the First Gate],” the head scribe began. “This severance has broken [Sixth Under Heaven’s] hold upon the realm: notably returning what conjecture might pce as the [Mystic Realm’s] original title from its previous designation as Imperial Realm 340.”

  Confirmation, if nothing more.

  Fu stroked his whisker. “Once does not confirm the matter, no?”

  This comment drew a breath from all but Udvah. “Forgiveness, senior,” came Pinxui’s tone, regarding both men of the Cloud Gathering division in some strange light. “Once more I have underestimated the scope of the Wayward Winds.”

  The scope? Does she glean something from my words?

  “Indeed,” continued Pinxui, growing faster. “I had foreseen such an eventuality, yet my predications clearly cked. If Senior Gao wishes to expand the March of Serpents to encompass more realms, using this [Shores of Heavy Whisper] as a mere testing ground, then he might consider reading these supporting documents.”

  Ants fled from her hanfu, delivering yet another pilr.

  “An illustration of the [True Orchid Path],” he queried, spreading wide a red-hued papyrus scroll, strewn with consteltions upon it. “Aarushi, this calligraphy is yours, no?”

  “Amituofo. Aarushi’s grace is peerless, is it not?”

  Shuidi pced curiosity on Udvah’s statement there, for his grin did not hold the usual wideness. No, the Vajra appeared-

  Oh? Our companion seems to hold love for something beyond the [Dao], no?

  Such a complexity of characters were detailed upon this illustration that Fu’s attention went to imitating one that could read swiftly. “Pinxui, in the interest of time I would have this expined,” he said, hoping to mask inability with lengthy ponderance.

  “Highlighted therein are two hundred and seven preliminary locations that might be used to expand the March of Serpents. If one considers overcoming obstacles such as the severance of [Paifang] and the restriction of movement this would prevent; cking intelligence pertaining to each [Law of Origin]; local organizations; Imperial Hierarchy; and the inevitable response mustered by True Imperials or the elite experts of [Sixth Under Heaven’s] allegiance - the feat is doubtless attainable by your Wayward Winds.”

  Truly the illustration was vast, and unfurled only so far as their pilged [True Orchid Path] fragments had recorded. Yet upon it held a thousand stars, and thousands more when Fu spyed it further.

  A lengthy pause.

  Tremors touched Fu’s [Core]. Some excitement at the raw potential. However…“Before correcting others, a man should look about his home three times.”

  Pinxui’s ants visibly sagged.

  “Foundations,” said Fu.

  Udvah and Mangam bobbed in approval. “Amituofo. Foundations.”

  No remaining head there was a fool, and granted their nods.

  “It must be made clear - Five Silences City is to be our domain. Until the Wayward Winds have risen in collective talent, this realm is the solitary March of Serpents. To lose a star upon his [True Orchid Path] is an unknown blow, if a blow at all to the Emperor of [Spring]. An unseen benefit in that while we prepare his attention may divert.”

  Further nods.

  “Then we may proceed. Pinxui, we are in your care,” Fu finished.

  What followed was a rare madness of presentation. A [Dao of Organization] if such a Path truly existed beneath the Heavens.

  [Force Q stroked myriad sheets from their stacks and spyed bound scrolls so that a great wall suspended behind his most senior scribe. Her detail was [Demonic], and spun from the beginning of observations once the severance had occurred toting such phrases as “Rises in ambient Qi density,” to “Profound redistribution of withheld [Seasonal] phenomena.”

  Aarushi tended to fresh sheets throughout, having her ink-dipped brush dance as the words were delivered.

  “[Far Whisper].” This came next. Near dismissed by Pinxui, for the intelligence gathered was inconclusive and admittedly shameful for one of their organization. Then in turn, predications, social implications, estimations on [Spirit Beast] behaviour, notes on observed architecture and their tolerance for the realm’s unique hazard.

  With the [Array]-rich nature of the Wayward Wind’s Warship, nterns were soon lit. A herald of dusk, or how far beyond it they had gone. But Fu listened with rapt attention despite the Old One’s capacity for memory, ending each subject with gratitude and willingness for the next.

  Yunhan’s tutege was to know. Fu could not impart such wisdom to initiates if he was blind to it.

  “...to Yellow Moon Hall,” finished Pinxui. The wall at her rear had grown bare, showing a mere dozen sheets. “We know of the Patriarch, Asik, and subsequent visits will reveal more. Head of the rgest cn aside from the Imperial Magistrate’s own, and one that holds her ear. Loose documents discuss a heritage of [Moon Q cultivation and [Capacity]. Tales references this, as did Anfang’s loose gathering of overheard word. He is stern and respected, not only by the six sons beneath him but by the opposing cns within the city’s domain.”

  Fu weighed in what he might. “A [Spirit Fox] is his partner, one of mystic bearing and fearsome presence. Yet in my dealings Pinxui, I encountered a daughter not named in these six sons. Is there no mention of her?”

  “A question to be answered on these subsequent visits, senior,” she countered.

  “This sixty-first rate disciple might consider a betrothal in pce of blood. A father need not be of retion,” added Aarushi.

  Small discussion passed on Yellow Moon Hall, referenced only by Anfang’s collected documents. Grievances aired by the Three Intricacies cn at surface level, for no loose documents would detail true, indeming thoughts. And so, when spent, the discussion turned there.

  “A branch association of Alchemists, possessing of more holdings throughout the [True Orchid Path]. To pce a shameful guess, they might rival the Four Tiger Pill society within our own Empire, for even this minor gnce revealed correspondence of those with Marches of Blue and Green. The depths of their backing, though halted by the [Paifang’s] severance, may yet prove troublesome to navigate.”

  Thunder entered Fu’s mind, prefaced by interest. “Foreign work. Techniques and manuals. A wealth there, Gao Fu. To know how the children of [Spring] inscribe their [Arrays] is to know best how they break.”

  Old master, none beneath the Heavens might rival your knowledge. I would ask on its necessity.

  “Recall that I am but one, and that a single pilr cannot hold a house.”

  Shuidi shared this opinion, though her impression carried small motes of greed. A keenness to follow in the catfish’s mastery, well aided should they acquire such foundational tomes as the Three Intricacies cn might hold.

  The nterns’ fmes brightened in response to the growing dark outside. Night, now arrived.

  As he saw it, another plight for his ceaseless head scribe. Fuel so that the tar-bck pits beneath her eyes might grow.

  Hushi, would you mark her as our pilr? A boon, truly. But such strain will surely have her foster [Heart Demons] before long.

  What returned were characters in thought. A word spoken not some short span prior. Fu’s hand flourished, retrieving a single, cerulean feather from his ring. One proffered to the woman across.

  Foundations.

  “Sister,” urged Aarushi, breaking Pinxui from her yet-spilling words.

  The scribe drew a rare breath, transfixed by the phoenix’s [Consteltion Seed]. “Senior Gao, I have not the background to study this! Any efforts-”

  “Your [Ink] will reveal much, disciple. Once consumed,” said Fu. “But I would have you continue for now. Time does not allow for ceremony.”

  Mangam gave a mirthful croak.

  “Amituofo. A cruel mistress, time,” smiled Uvah. “As is Pinxui’s diligence, no? This cking seeker will have no time to share his own observations if her genius is to continue. A shame, this, for there is much he could tell of the Cloudy Serpents but two [Paifang] over.”