Slumbertaur

  “Hold,” barked the order.

  With [Lesser Rejuvenation Pill] in hand, I could not understand.

  The cultivator before me was ailing.

  Stomach, spilled.

  “I had thought-”

  Broad of shoulder, the Fist of Nine Sect’s disciple tore me back several paces. Her [Senses] expanded over me, harshly. “Put in your eyes, schor. What talent of te [Core Formation] bleeds like this?”

  Ink is wet enough for my sensibilities, and no Martial Path was my own. Thus I had pced no scrutiny on the injured man.

  But she had me stare.

  Crimson pooled.

  Intestines protruded, sodden amidst fractured bone.

  One yellow eye blinked amidst it.

  “[Yaksh,” she growled.

  Some distortion of mirth chuckled out of it. Not from blood-stain lips, but from the torn-wide cavity.

  From the maws within, three, to mirror its eyes.

  I recall stumbling, and the [Yaksh oozed forth as liquid flesh before my savior’s [Dao] eradicated all.

  “Not even the sanctity of corpses is preserved,” I gasped. “By the Heavens. Venerable cultivator, my profound…”

  Already was she upon another corpse, and I, swiftly running to the safety of the Bck Ribbon Graves.

  “Diversity of [Demonic] Attributes,” conversations with [Dour Faced Strategist]

  What remnants had stood of the previous battlefields were as dust. A graveyard of Warships adrift and temples, now long buried in dunes and canyons.

  Mridul’s impossibility made it so.

  The vacant air beneath all that floated held a ground now, a desert suspended above water and void.

  Still, he advanced.

  Jian tearing through a metal of unknown composition. His sshes poured light across the inner confines, a tortoise’s shell of nigh-peerless density within which the ghosts were harboured. Sand spilled through the crevices, racing to engulf this pair before they might further vex-

  The [Heartplume’s Mockery] moved as lightning through a pin’s head, passing, and emerging through Mridul’s chest to have his breath exhale.

  “An end will come to this, cultivators. My Empire’s wealth is squandered fruitlessly here, relent, and allow the honor of returning such treasures to those that require them.”

  Zhu arched a brow mid-whisper, and yet, his [Dao of Confirmation] continued. “...enlighten, [Dao of Confirmation],” he finished. “The wind embraces you, for you are its equal.”

  Cool power washed through Fu’s [Channels], mingling with the suffusion of Qi that [Half Cloud Step] already granted. And around him, the world slowed.

  Affecting his [Mist Q, Fu became a driving plume that gave chase to his [Mockery]. A gust that met Mridul where the [Spiritual] attack had drawn a minor breath, marrying sand and fog.

  He coalesced, seeing that his palm had flown through an empty expanse in the Imperial’s chest.

  “We share a [Constitution], in principle,” Mridul noted. “Yet your own is fresh. In time you might have refined it.”

  Then Fu was grasped, restrained as one might a young cub. His scruff lifted by a sudden bnket of sand.

  Mists flew in response.

  A gentle caress on the Imperial’s cheek, proving [Water Q to be ineffectual despite its suppressive nature. For not a droplet reached Mridul, nor a single bckened stain of dampness as it would in other circumstance.

  “A purity of Qi. Another of your realm would fall to this, or perhaps a fellow Imperial of higher standing. The strength contained within is too scattered, cultivator of Clear Skies. Consider each wisp as the driving force, not the exterior edges that you use to move it.”

  Fu could not smile, restrained as he was, but moved his brow minorly. “Gratitude, venerable Sun [Demon],” he struggled, never ceasing his mists. “You speak as a teacher. An instructor of Repositories, I might think. Your kindness has prolonged our lives.”

  “Your vocation pces scrutiny on such compliments. But please, it is a small thing. A ptitude, for it is advice never to be actioned.”

  The Imperial’s lips… did they quirk? Did they thin in amusement?

  Sand clogged Fu’s windpipe, and conversation held no merit in so lethal a position, but… yes, He had spied a glimmer of weakness.

  “No teacher,” Fu struggled.

  With thunderous arrival, a cascade rushed through Zhu’s defensive treasure. The [Spirit Whale] in all her titanic form eviscerated his tortoise’s shell with a force of uncountable grains. They rose thereafter, encasing Zhu in the same bindings as his brother.

  Mridul nodded once in contentment. “All Paths and the men that walk it hold interest to me, cultivators. If only we might speak as equals. Sadly, I must steer these pleasantries into talks more befitting our status.”

  “We’ve a long road until the Emperor’s realm,” suggested Zhu. “If you’ve conversation, or wine to ease this journey, I’d go quietly.”

  “Well-honed as these outward faces, Clear Sky cultivators. Such expressions suggest that you would indeed betray your Empire for a single bottle,” said Mridul, gncing to Fu. “And your own, Fatherly [Asura], suggests that to be common. No. But you attempt to hold me in some machination, as shown by your reckless leap towards me.”

  Zhu looked to Tanshuai, if only out of concern for her sand-wrapped wings.

  “A feint,” Mridul followed. “No. It would no be slight. Those who corrupt our Imperial Realms would no thing to chance. Your trap is a grand orchestration.”

  “But you stall,” said Zhu.

  “Willing capture is questionable, and I do not believe either of you fools. Diligence is meeting this trap before it might harm those I return to.”

  “A [Dao Partner]? A mortal husband or wife?”

  Fu followed Zhu’s statement, seeing Mridul’s lips quirk once more. “Your family.”

  “The same,” this Imperial said, looking fondly to Samudra’s circling form. “But, enough. It is far from proper-”

  Mridul winced.

  No, more than this, Mridul’s hand found his brow. “The trap,” he muttered. “Another realm of [Spring] is severed. And yet… and yet I am not your target. Our meeting was happenstance, intervened by [Karma].”

  The sands about each ghost tightened like a vice.

  This Sun [Demon’s] gre rose, and its intensity expined well why his title had been given. “Name your reasons. Speak them now. Why have you entered this realm?”

  “Peace, Sun [Demon], said Zhu. “This bout is over.”

  If Mridul was to strike him, the blow did not nd. In pce was a mencholy wail and a trembling of sands.

  Samudra’s very being quivered. Her great tail-fin, spasmodic. A thrashing neck and altered course that reflected well on Mridul’s suddenly clenched jaw.

  “This bout is over?” the Imperial began, unable to end. For this nigh-immortal cultivator spluttered, and bloody foam spurted from his tightened lips. “How?” he frothed, descending as his Qi became unable to sustain a hold within the skies.

  “Our disciples are diligent,” said Zhu, unshackling the sounds by his throat.

  There came a great and sudden gust.

  Sand cascaded, not of Mridul’s control.

  [Half Cloud Step].

  Fu drove Mridul to the closest deck before he plummeted through pnk and faded inscription, nding as Samudra roiled a storm of granuted agony.

  Green surfaced on the ghost’s palm, abze in heatless fme. [Origin Q that travelled through the grip upon his foe to sink deep into flesh and [Core]. Will surged it further. Shuidi’s precise control.

  The gust arrived again, harsher.

  “Brother,” said Zhu. “The skies.”

  Heedless of anything but the task beneath him, Fu’s [Origin Q surged. Like smooth rivers, he followed the path within Mridul. To [Meridians], which he saturated in poison, and to [Nodes] wherein he and Samudra’s deepest connection y.

  Onwards, his poison washed it all.

  Mridul’s response was fitful, bloody, and feeble. As would all those of Imperial [Spring] become.

  For the Wayward Winds had severed their final realm.

  The March of Serpents had come, and the [True Orchid Path]...

  “Brother,” came Zhu once more.

  Urgent enough that Fu’s focus shifted to the Heavens.

  At first he thought the scene one of spiders and webs. Fractured ceramic, as if a bowl had shattered upon hardened floor- so vast were the intersecting lines.

  I underestimated the scale. This… this is a wonder.

  But as Fu’s mouth grew further ajar he found greater truth. For above, oscilting and vanishing across the sky’s entirety there wisped a weave of roots. A system of Heaven-hewn fibers that spanned all spaces.

  All [Imperial Realms].

  He bore witness to its burning.

  At truest north there stood an almighty trunk, hued in orchid as he had seen but once before. A [Spirit Bamboo], an Emperor among growth and [Spring]. Itself, a beacon more resplendent than ten thousand suns.

  Now waning.

  Zhu tilted his brother’s jaw so he might see more than just this.

  For the Heavens shone with each star these celestial roots touched. Each [Imperial Realm] in its myriad count. Fu saw them overid or distant, shown in a firmament that could not be seen without such brutality to the [True Orchid Path].

  Consteltions that suddenly vanished.

  Instinct returned as Mridul’s jian tore into his shoulder, sand-coated so it might injure and bleed.

  Yet [Half Cloud Step] could not catch him as Samudra bsted between them. A misshapen torrent that battered her cultivator from the edge of this broken Warship and into the endless void below.

  Fu ground his teeth, his arm already limp. “The [Origin Q sealed but half.”

  “It’s forgivable.”

  “An Imperial roams free, our faces known and our [Karma] deepened,” he shook, allowing Shuidi to dispense her aid.

  This wound will not recover swiftly. Aarushi’s talents are needed.

  “Half. If he nears our cultivation a single blow will suffice. Rejoice in this, you miserable fool. See the blow struck,” warned Zhu, though his expression belied this tone.

  Tanshuai came to rest on Fu’s douli. “Our March of Serpents. An effort long in the making,” he said, allowing the [Spirit Butterfly] a weary smile. “Master Bingbai should find it agreeable.”

  ??

  Those of Castes below Blue suffered less than the truest Imperials. Lacking importance, talent or heritage had them escape much of Mridul’s suffering, for their spirits were less entwined by [Spring] and the benefits their Emperor granted.

  Yet, they still fell.

  Remnants of the Four Corners Coalition. Cherry River disciples. Scattered cultivators of the Clear Sky.

  An advance of these forces id waste not to the indomitable bullwark of [Spring] but to mewling babes, winnowed and weakened by impossibility.

  Fu rode the devastation in their wake.

  From Warship to temple he saw axes, embedded in the nape of [Spirit Beasts] - their motions ceased and expressions aghast. Disbelieving. Horror draped upon them, and to such an extent they could not perceive the coming qiang in their gut or bone-shattering fist.

  The wound at Fu’s shoulder had long stopped bleeding, but troubled him greatly. A sickly sweat sullied his brow each time it lifted, denying any grip he might take on his chain.

  Zhu’s hand fell, done plucking unseen strings. “Less. It’s a failure, but all I might say. The impact of severance has made these True Imperials less.”

  WIth [Might] and movement the perches these ghosts stole to were mundane, if only in their regurity. A mast, a distant tower, the peak of structures. To dance among the clouds had become mere, and beyond pin observation Fu looked only ahead.

  Ban Bingbai’s sun still reigned.

  A light to guide, though [Divine Sense] told that the [Reliquary] of this realm y further distant yet.

  “Hushi and Shuidi are at odds with our next course,” Fu said, affixed ahead.

  The [Spirit Crab] ccked, gesturing to the war that pushed deeper into Imperial territory. [Arrays] spent and Castes broken.

  “That Sun [Demon’s] duty allowed our victory. Others of the [True Lord Realm] won’t share this compunction. If we’re to stake it all on a single throw, I’d use our full might.”

  Fu stroked his whisker.

  “Greed tempts, for nets are but string if unused. Hmm. Selfishly, this one would welcome it. Novel. A fresh sight.”

  “Considerations. My expectation is that [Sixth Under Heaven] will flood this realm if there is any suspicion that we are here. Then, do we add oil to an already burning fme, or tend to the fire we know?”

  A moment’s silence fell between them.

  Something beyond the sun held Zhu’s focus now. Blocked by light for all but him. “Slight [Karmic] threads. He will know already. Mridul’s loss rings as a bell, I’m certain. An annoyance, certainly, but his reactions will not be swift after the severance. Now…” he nodded north. “Now the dangerous wind blows in our favor.”

  Resonances passed through Fu’s brooch.

  [Dao of Wayward Breezes].

  He unfurled before the [Paifang] to meet vacant space. Absence in the shade of a great shrine, one adorned by a thousand unlit candles and marble stalks of bamboo. Then his own resonance pushed, and his Wayward Winds emerged.

  A flicker brought the full number to knees before him. Masked aside their [Spirit Beasts] and douli upon their heads. This silent bow held as Udvah rose, grim and weary.

  “Amituofo. This cking daoist greets his senior,” he addressed.

  “Our words might wait,” nodded Fu, marking each mended gash or faded bruise upon each of his juniors. “The task is known.”

  Udvah imparted silent words in gesture. Four fingers raised on a bloodied hand.

  Four disciples have fallen.

  The Fatherly [Asura] masked his loss well, returning a question in this same silence.

  Mangam’s shallow nod granted the reply.

  Their [Consteltion Seeds] have been recovered. No total loss, but a blow nonetheless.

  A trail of bckened fabric had Aarushi arrive at his side. “Senior Gao Fu. Forgive my presumption,” she bowed, imparting her [Life Q before the words had ceased. “This sixty-first rate disciple would mend this tear upon your robes.”

  “Robes?” corrected Zhu. “Gao Fu suffered injuries dispatching a True Imperial. Your kindness sullies the feat.”

  Had a murmur surfaced at such news Fu might have turned to disappointment. But silence held.

  His lessons held.

  “A thousand apologies, senior. These humble eyes fail,” said Aarushi, withdrawing eighteen points that her [Hundred Rhythms of the Golden Needle] had required.

  Vitality pulsed through Fu’s injury, mending the flesh in as many heartbeats.

  “Gratitude, Head Aarushi.” - So flew his final words, for his will had drawn an item forth. A bone and key, arduously heavy within his grasp.

  Fu put his back to the disciples. This treasure, aloft.

  Shuidi.

  Subtle power welled between the [Spirit Crab’s] pincers. Uncoloured, unseen, and unquantifiable by all but a chosen few within the Jianghu.

  Her will was met by Hushi in concert and they drove all they might grasp through the lens of their [Primordial Consteltion Gate]. No more than a jolt or droplet, condensed and filtered.

  Once through the [Hundred Immunities Fruit], and on, refined by the [Old One’s Whisker], shaped by the [Hollow Ivory Splinter] and enriched by the [Twin Mockeries Heartplume].

  A single bead of [Primordial Q to enter this key, and split the realm asunder.

  ??

  [A Hollow Hegemon’s Splinter]

  [True Lord Grade] [Eternal Spring] [Trial Realm] [Demon Scar]

  Zhu met Fu’s eye, and something passed there.

  Cold memory before the true change began.

  Prefaced only by a fre of ivory light, the [Imperial Realm] warped and contorted before them. The avenues of water; the temples; shrapnel and ruins of Warships - they became so much more than their previous parts.

  A great spire assembled itself from these separate materials, be that water or marble, exploding in the space before them to further rise towards the Heavens.

  In moments the Wayward Winds gazed skyward, noting first the vast staircase through which they were to enter and then the impossibility of this sky-scraping structure.

  “Brother,” masked Fu, alerting none to his intentions.

  Su Sai knew his role, and answered it with a mere nod. “Yes, brother?”

  “Act as the sun, for only then may shadows lengthen.”

  No small glee passed the disciple’s face, nor that of his [Spirit Serpent], and both stood taller as they moved to lead their band.

  But the unwary had yet to move.

  The thousands upon thousands of cultivators that now scrambled about them. Orchid robes and the variety of the Clear Sky, Greens, Blues, serpents and cherry-hued pilgrims.

  This crowd was as vast as the stars above.

  “Madness!”

  “The Heavens curse us!”

  “Fools of the false Empire, what have you wrought?”

  “Be at peace,” echoed Su Sai, infusing [Intent] with his voice. “[Demons] rise. Their Scar persists. Do not fall to this, fellow cultivators.”

  That all eyes turned to this fool - this bold youth - could be enough to inspire dread in those of weaker spirit.

  For among these thousands stood immortals of much scrutiny. [Spirit Beasts] to rival myth and fable, judging with lightning-wrapped clouds upon their scales or shedding ice from fangs that should be bone.

  [Dao]-soaked experts and bdemasters, scions of houses that held monsters in their blood, and then a slew of Imperials.

  Su Sai held them at bay, his [Consteltion Seed] gaining every eye.

  The [Twenty Faces Opal].

  A treasure that shifted another’s heart, their perception, to become more susceptible to the emotions of one’s [Intent].

  But it could not suppress the division of cultivators and now lines were drawn between those of [Spring] and those of Clear Skies. Its small reprieve inserted those of greater power, as Fu had sought.

  Ringleaders emerged.

  Deference was shown.

  The youthful disciple of the [Cherry River Pilgrim] arrived with a hand across exasperated features, muttering with the talent of a wizened crone. Her appearance alone stalled many of those who wished to join Su Sai, and set a wary edge on the grip of these shocked Imperials.

  “You hold insight, clearly, serpent,” she noted, pushing beyond Su Sai so she might inspect the great ingress to the tower ahead. Four [Spirit Toads] followed in her wake, mundane in appearance.

  “Venerable cultivator,” csped Sai, bowing no more than his waist. “It is an honor to be in the presence of the Cherry River.”

  “Odd that you speak out of turn. Emboldened by chaos perhaps or confident through other means? By what power do you deign to rally disparate souls against this tragedy?”

  Sai grimaced. “By hatred, and divine duty. We upon Heaven’s Path must give our all against the immortal scourge.”

  Many fists beat a chorus around him, pounding their chests in agreement.

  “This cultivator has the way of it.”

  “An honorable sort.”

  “Prejudice must be swallowed in face of our shared enmity. Hear this truth, disciples.”

  Or so came the words of Clear Skies.

  Zhu stole to Fu’s side, masked behind a row of red-cd cultivators. “Seven hundred paces north. Three strides left of the fme-touched [Spirit Lizard].”

  Attention slipped from the foremost conversation. Half-meaningless for it was awash with a sea of ptitudes and noble posturing.

  With Shuidi’s aid they looked to Zhu’s indication.

  Another set of eyes returned. Cracked with webs of red, strain and injury well evident in their owner’s stature. In how Samudra’s form was half her former size, though she still made to cowl another figure from the crowd.

  This was his weakness.

  Mridul gred across an expanse of heads, and across the empty space that demarcated allegiance. Then as a good man should, he gnced at his daughter.

  Fu withdrew his douli in respect, pushing a promise forth.

  “I ck the understanding of this choice,” said Zhu. “But if he were you.”

  “Vengeance will not come.”

  “A fool plies certainties such as this,” Zhu continued, only to be silenced by Tanshuai’s flutter of warning. “He cks the truth, but even suspicion might fan the fmes of these [Spring] fools into action against us.”

  The douli returned to Fu’s head. “Nothing is certain, yes. But in this… in matters of fatherhood, I judge him as wise. The Sun [Demon] holds only one priority now.”

  Figures moved from the side of [Spring]. A delegation of orchid that met twenty strides from the Cherry River disciple. Mridul was not among them, despite what colour his robes might hold.

  “Cultivators,” spoke their head, a woman of mellow speech and twinned [Spirit Sharks]. “By the grace of our Emperor I swear to uphold peace. On my honor and my [Dao], if you swear it, no blood will be shed until this mystery is discussed.”

  Blind fools cried insults at her appearance. A dozen within every hundred, shared from ruin-seeking pockets about the mass.

  Thus rose the second Cherry River disciple.

  “When seas run dry and snow falls in [Summer]. When thunder rumbles in [Winter] and the deserts flood. Even then, they possess eyes but cannot see. Manifest, [Dao of Returning Sin].”

  An utterance to draw screams.

  Fu shivered at the [Profundity] unleashed, and at the singur chime that the portly, [Spirit Boar]-partnered disciple loosed upon these fools.

  The voices that threw these insults cried out in repetition. Well panicked as their words became a mantra they could not silence.

  “I have eyes but cannot see,” they spoke. “I have eyes but cannot see.”

  Gold bleached their pupils, turning cultivator and beast alike to blindness. All until the head Imperial raised a hand.

  “An appreciated show of unity, cultivator. Yet they add annoyance to what words we might soon trade.”

  The portly disciple scratched his stomach. “Ah, I’ve been thoughtless. Apologies. Ignorance is an easy path to violence, and I wouldn’t seek to sully this opportunity. I, Xun Rou, agree to your terms. If none others do, then I’m a willing ear.”

  “Generosity must be matched. This one is Gauri, named by the venerable [Sixth Under Heaven] as [Crimson Waters Sage].”

  Emperor named. Are these Imperials truly blind to the [Dao}?

  “The boy has insight,” interrupted the Cherry River youth. “If matters are to be resolved then we must dismiss if it is truth or simply a truth he believes to be such.”

  “This one agrees.”

  “As you say, older sister,” fervently nodded Xun Rou.

  Zhu and Fu became deaf to whatever lies Su Sai was to spin, for a hand came to rest upon each of their shoulders.

  And a chuckle prefaced a voice long since heard. “Oh-ho. The Heavens still curse me with rowdy juniors, I see.”