A frog in a well.

  Ever was it said. Insulted. Traded and bandied. A reduction for those that thought themselves grand while knowing nothing of true greatness.

  Fu viewed it as imprisonment, for the fisherman had trapped many a catch within hand-dug pools where baskets were sparse.

  Was this not the same?

  A lesser thing, unable to reach that which y beyond. Yet he was no daoist, and such musings were foolish, even if his inner mind was drawn to such a picture.

  That of bream, pulled by both his net and the river’s flow.

  Warring currents.

  Warring [Pull].

  With eyes well shut and hoisted in his rooted bindings, Fu’s [Conception Vessel] unmade the external scene. This river became his all. Some once serene waterway that pyed host to no fish but the three starry morsels he felt to be kin.

  The net held one within its grasp. Loosely. An affectation of blood-red rope, if frayed where several knots bound the edges.

  It pulled.

  The river allowed these knots to gather, pulling taught so its prey might not evade. To fear this foreign object was to lose, and this was no facet of water. No, it merely moved. Shaped and flowed where it must.

  What signs presented of his elderly foe were flickering things. Her [Intent] and the technique present that wished to harvest his [Consteltion Seeds].

  Her [Spirit Scorpion] loomed atop the shore, both there, and distant. Abze in [Demonic Energy].

  Shuidi’s ire rose amongst those waters. Hushi bid her calm, scolding as a senior might.

  And this war continued.

  Knots tightened, and a great breath escaped by the river’s edge. Wind tousled the reeds in passing - frigid and northern, though this was queerly not of Fu’s design.

  [Dao of Pilged Breath].

  Mists wisped about the bank, and outwith. He felt them mire the robed figures that stood beyond this shore. But their fear was yet to come.

  The [Spirit Scorpion]’s draw grew greater still. A perverse presence that tainted the waters red with each encroaching step. Mounting until it tried for the first of his [Consteltion Seeds].

  In vain.

  All about the waters became a thing of thrashing. Foam sprayed atop the banks and the reeds snapped in proximity. Done for the expansion of this vast and crimson net, seeking to dominate the treasures within.

  But the Old One was no insect.

  “Fledgling bug. Against whom do you fight?” the catfish taunted. “No child as you are.”

  Calm was held as the [Spirit Scorpion] advanced, arraying its legs a pace from the waters. A-swirl in mists.

  Fu’s [Dao] found an ember then, for it was clear these robes could not understand why he yet stood. Why his corpse was not barren and his [Primordial Consteltion Gate] remained.

  The uncertainty had his [Ink] warm.

  “Brother, is this not your domain?” spoke Fu.

  A concert of will stilled the waters again, though something rushed throughout them. Once a bream, of mild kin to the minnow, now an eight armed [Demon].

  Hushi drove through the water, aglow with his own crimson. His movement was that of the [Hollow Ivory Splinter], for this pair had coalesced. Each arm was now an elongated bone, burning in characters of malefic view.

  His [Dao of Pilged Breath] responded further.

  Fresh power flushed the [Spirit Scorpion] then, and strain, as when it exercised its [Pull], these three ghosts did the same.

  This Green’s power was undeniable. A middle stage, or te stage [Core Formation Realm]. Aged, wizened and possessing of talent that would pce her at the assumed head of this [Imperial Realm’s] assassins.

  Thus they were led, the might of Fu’s partners waned against the [Spirit Scorpion]. One pebble against a dragon’s hide.

  Hushi’s form was dragged shorewards until three arms were lifted from the fray, now fulcrums against the bank. The feeble supports against this consuming energy.

  Longer, brother. We will sustain. That is all we must do.

  Possessing not of nostrils Hushi’s exterior mouth bled and Shuidi’s stalks wept, much as their cultivator’s nose began to trail.

  Moments.

  Then minutes.

  Persisting through the mounting cold that had begun to frost his [Conception Vessel]. A foul facet of this [Demonic Energy].

  Though the parallel of time within one’s mind and in reality were not known to him, Fu had other sources confirm his triumph.

  The robed figures had grown uncertain. Or, moreso, they had grown fearful. Disarmed by the musings of this stranger and the contradictions delivered about their Empire, they now saw how their leader struggled.

  So his [Dao] grew.

  So their fear grew in turn, and from mist the three were nourished.

  Mounds formed beneath the [Spirit Scorpion’s] stance. Minor gravellings of earth that showed how it inched towards the waters. Insignificant at first, but rising, dragged-

  Serenity came in purest white.

  From bank to water; sky; reeds; flesh and breath. Fu flinched in pain as his heart thundered.

  Ice coated all.

  A violent wrench stole him from his mental realm and he was acutely aware of the gcial force that bound his body. The roots about him were as icicles now, crystalline, and imbued with such a force that had him feel as though warmth would never return.

  Yet so too were these robes and insects- his Green-cd foe.

  [Half Cloud Step].

  Fu tore his limbs from the bindings and all about him fell like powdered snow. Though where it fell shared this appearance, for his eyes found naught but the deepest of [Winter’] wrath.

  Statues.

  Hushi and Shuidi returned to him, and the ttermost shrunk into his tattered clothes for refuge.

  “Peace,” Fu said warily, finding that his chain was absent. He stepped warily, still suffused with Qi.

  A crunch of footsteps sounded to his rear, and this sound was as subtle as the one that had made it.

  “Do tell me, child, was this your means of rescue? Were these cultivators well ensnared by your pnning? Fool.”

  Fu bowed deeply to Ivory Sea. “Venerable [Dances Upon an Ivory Sea]. The depths of your talents- I had not imagined this. It is humbling, that even in your current state-”

  Her colpse came as interruption, though Fu embraced her before she might strike the ground.

  “Gratitude,” he said, ying her gently. “This will not be forgotten.”

  ?

  The white proved endless, for each turn, twist and straight glistened. An immortal’s power, if bridled, was a show of force that had Fu’s thoughts stir further.

  “Not all are created equal,” Zhu offered, almost disdainful as he proffered the bloodied [Consteltion Seed]. “It seems a weaker alternative.”

  In present company the pair would not admit their treasures. Not before Kavya, nor the unconscious immortal within her [Shaded Vestiges Knot].

  The disciple held a limp, and no doubt countless mental scars. A simple tactic, he mused, as the weakest links might yet snap a chain with enough pressure. If ever his Beggar’s Tongue were to run dry, he would apply this logic in simir circumstance.

  But the toll was clear.

  [Heart Demons] may foster if she does not surpass this. Greens are a terror, and she is ill-prepared even for the early cultivators of [Core Formation]. I can do nothing but observe.

  Three now, once the [Arrays] on each cell had been undone, they prowled these ice-thick corridors. Grim faced statues crowded their passage. Cultivators aghast, or perhaps, some were blissful.

  Caught unaware by Ivory Sea’s influence.

  Bereft of his chain, Fu plunged a saber through the closest neck. It shattered, cking any sembnce of [Resilience]. At another junction, he felled three more, and another, five.

  “It is designed much the same as our home,” said Fu. “Disciple, you would do well to inscribe such a battlefield to memory.”

  Kavya blinked her head higher. “As you say, senior.”

  Nonsensical routes and a thousand entrances had turned them about a handful of times now, even reliant on Zhu’s superior [Senses].

  His own [Dao of Wayward Breezes] returned a sparsity of airflow when conjured, with each current appearing to fade by artificial means.

  “Here,” the plum-eyed cultivator would say.

  “Eastward,” he would continue.

  Each direction they took from Zhu felt deeper than the st, and Fu grew to mistrust the very corridors they walked.

  How far does her ice extend? Signs must exist beyond this prison, on walls or the ground if we are submerged as I might guess. More of these Greens will arrive shortly.

  When their destination was reached, the Old One had Fu inwardly sigh. Truly, he did not know whether to ugh or cry. More so for the mirth in the catfish’s tone.

  “Brother.”

  Zhu inclined his head in response, putting his back to a vast and well-[Arrayed] door set into the network of roots. The first surface encountered that was not showered in pace-thick snow or gzings of ice.

  “The rice is cooked, it’s best to eat it,” he said.

  Shuidi agreed.

  Fu stroked his whisker, harder than the norm. “This will not lead back to the city,” he began, and sifted through myriad additions to this.

  Then relented.

  [Intermediary Wisdom] fred as he approached. Criss-crossed [Profundity] appeared in a web of circuits, interwoven as most of this Empire’s were. Sealing and defence. A cousin to those he had unmade within the [Twilight Lotus Expanse].

  Soon his saber moved with the deftness his [Control] afforded, beginning the sequence to disrupt it all. If second string to the [Spirit Crab] upon his arm, for her tutege had reached a point that needed no rely wholly on the Old One’s input.

  She would impress left, and his reach would follow. Her mists hardened north, and his saber tapped south.

  It opened presently.

  “We war against caution,” Fu warned, blurring across the threshold.

  Kavya shared no emotion in crossing, leaving her plum-eyed senior to deal with what potential ire might come.

  ‘Falling Leaves, [Imperial Realm 4,008]’ read a singur banner, draped between the root-crafted vaults of this faction’s treasury. Green in fabric, as was expected of the March where they stalked.

  The size mirrored this rank.

  Fu knew well that he might become lost were they to dally. The scale also shed doubt on his spatial ring’s capacity. Had he not deposited much within the Wayward Wind’s own treasury then much would be lost.

  My captor’s [Consteltion Seed] was of priority, and we did not look for any trinkets upon her person. Perhaps-

  “Disciple, I would have you search first for spatial rings,” he ordered.

  Already Zhu held aloft a trinket, in simir mind. No ring, but a band of interwoven wood. “Two hundred,” he called, having Fu’s mood darken. “Attempt to use this, we’ve no proven history that their inscriptions will not interfere with our current rings.”

  Kavya half bowed, took the band, and stowed a fragment of bark that Zhu had chipped free. It vanished at her command, prompting a loose vibration from the Cloud Gathering divison’s rings.

  Unsuppressed. How vast are his [Senses] to have known it contained [Spatial Q?

  Suitably impressed, Shuidi had Fu voice a thought. “Might you store these bands within your [Shaded Vestiges Knot], disciple?”

  Fatigue fred on her features.

  Fu extended his hand. “No. Much has already been asked. We will hoard as mortals do,” he smiled, bundling much of these bands into his hanfu. For steps, at least, for this trove would soon require use of each to be plundered.

  Crates of [Pills]. [Dao Treasures]. A wealth of equal peerage to those of [Reliquaries] in their difference, for these contents were of specialized use. Not solely applicable treasures, but vocation-aligned techniques, weapons, instruments and spirit stones.

  His ring stole much of this monetary prize. Arranged- piled and taped in their thousands upon thousands. These bundles were not middle-grade as his personal wealth was.

  No.

  These were of the high-grade.

  A richness that he held no comparison against, but swallowed nonetheless.

  Zhu passed among stocks, and met Fu’s eye when attention was pced on him. No treasure-blind fool, his plundering was swift, as was the hand that raised one item of note. “[Karmic],” he noted, continuing thereafter.

  Onwards took Fu to weapons, where his fingertips trailed an arsenal. Jian were pulled; the qiang; axes and ornate guns. Only when he came to the chains did his haste slow by some small degree.

  Our benefactor within the Divine Clouded Mountain will not be pleased at the loss of our weapon. Perhaps a hundred more bdes will mollify her.

  Accustomed to his previous weapon, Fu looked for those simir. Indeed, all would be taken, but he required a suitable implement should trouble soon arise.

  Hushi was far, emptying stores of his own volition, as was Shuidi in her own fashion. Size pyed much part in their individual use, after all.

  Thus Fu sought no opinions, testing each. All held the keenness of edges, and none held a form more versatile than the others. A fnged bde upon one was as deadly as the curved head of another. The compositions were dull, as an assassin’s weapon should be, despite the varying thickness among them.

  That was, until he came across one as thin as yarn. These links were so slight - so diminutive - that only when he held it aloft would any be able to glean its presence, and only against the contrast of his skin.

  Old master, have you thoughts on this item?

  The Old One put forth a pensive impression. “The bde,” he instructed, and Fu’s fingers passed to a sword-like head.

  A sheer thing, for his palm bled against it.

  “Feathers forged this. This old one tastes glimpses of its power. A [Spirit Beast] upon the edge of immortality, known, for fragments of its power yet remain.”

  Old master?

  “Peculiar. Novel. An accompanying tome might hold more, if your Green-cd foes knew of its worth. Make clear, Gao Fu, this weapon is an oddity.”

  Fu judged the length, seeming endless. “[Spirit Beast], this humble cultivator has need of you. Might we strike an accord?”

  Some contemptive hum sounded from his catfish. “Youngling, tread carefully in these foreign waters. They are not known.”

  Though distant Shuidi was first to turn, sensing what disturbance rippled from this chain. Or perhaps simply the blood that continued to well upon Fu’s palm.

  Queer, for he had not moved it.

  “A conversation for safer times,” he said, and summarily stowed the weapon before any events began to sway their mission.

  Caution. It grows ever easier to become lost in greed.

  So saying, the reaping progressed.

  With swiftly growing steps, Kavya and her [Spirit Centipede] emptied the contents of this treasury’s east; Zhu, the west; and those remaining cleared from south to north.

  Trinkets to be reported upon ter.

  “Gao Fu,” came the final call. Herald to future headaches, Fu was certain. But he advanced when uttered, arriving before a cage of familiar design.

  Here was the shrine around which this treasury orbited, a bark-hewn dias. Different were the [Arrays] about it. Layered and profoundly more complex in comparison to its entrance, for the contents within demanded such.

  A [Splinter].

  No.

  Another [Splinter].

  Another bone of impossible existence, housed in [Profundity], sure death and protections that none less than the Old One might decipher.

  “Before it’s asked, you know why,” remarked Zhu.

  Fu’s cultivation had progressed since his previous encounter with treasures of this ilk, as had Shuidi’s [Senses]. Perhaps that is what put his hairs on end, and his skin to prickle with equivalent cold to Ivory Sea’s recent devastation.

  This [Splinter] seemed feral, as if nearing would have jaws close about him.

  “[Karma] blows an unguessable wind,” shook Fu.

  As [Arrays] did in his presence, these soon shattered. The yers it held peeled back, revealing inscriptions for sickening [Profundity] with each of his passing disarmaments.

  The [Dao of Madness]. [Memory], [Ashes], [Bze], [Enfeeblement], [Admiration], [Fixation], [Final Breaths], [Suffocation], [Rising Lust].

  The method was akin to puncturing paper within a tome, sequential if invariably less simple than how the former fisherman’s mind processed such actions.

  “Not all [Karma],” returned Zhu, disappearing the [Splinter] before Kavya might join her seniors.

  Their flight omitted any further words on this peculiarity. First, the navigation through gcial corridors and halls, and second, how deftly they stole across the rooftops.

  Ash aided this.

  Pursuers did not.

  Movement was heard upon their exit, though where this hidden structure stood could not be pced for the obscenity of ash that flooded the ndscape. A tall pce, perhaps, for it was above the tide that had swallowed this city, or the base of their innumerable pagodas, protected by the faint buzz of warding inscriptions Fu could only loosely sense.

  What mattered was haste.

  Towards a refuge, a bath-house, a poputed locale into which they might blend and mask until the [Paifang] was opened.

  We could pit mundane techniques against them, for these elites hold talent that might have such common methods prevail.

  His mind changed.

  A fallible pn, to guess on others' shortcomings. The gap between our strengths is like that of Heaven and Earth. But, there are other ways.

  Searing white powder drove with peerless intensity, raging, twisting, blinding and more. It severed sight as they blurred, pcing Zhu’s [Senses] as their only means of defence against an onset of following bodies.

  Further Greens, he was certain.

  As with the Clouded Courts, few assassins held the luxury of an extended stay within their branch. Ivory Sea’s attack would not have silenced all, nor would Fu expect those she had to be counted as a majority.

  Kavya’s [Resilence] failed some time after the third hour had passed.

  Fu only heard the impact, thus he rounded atop a snted roof at the first sign. “Brother,” he whispered, blurring to the street where his disciple now y.

  Ash had already buried half her form.

  A nondescript chain appeared in hand, readied should their pursuers close. “Lift her again.”

  But Zhu went no further than bringing Kavya to her feet, his tong fa summoned with simir haste. “This- I don’t understand.”

  Fresh cold washed Fu’s spine. “Then we flee.”

  “We can’t,” said Zhu, inclining one weapon into the tempest. “She’s already here.”

  Unsuppressed power approached from whence he pointed, not in radiation, but as wellspring might. Vast and unused. Merely present in the figure’s gestalt.

  Then from white came plum, resplendent upon the woman’s face. A [Bloodline] that any in the Clear Sky Empire might know.

  “Greetings, little brother,” she said, quaking the head of her gargantuan axe down in mild pcement by her feet. “We have not met, I should think. Rarely do I speak with the lesser spawn of our Father, after all. But you hold something that I greatly value. A trinket, lost on the likes of you,” she said, as mirthless as her kin. “After you have kowtowed one hundred times for the disrespect of standing in my presence, I will graciously accept its return.”

  Zhu spat.