Fatherly Asura

I recall the moment of insight.

My [Epiphany].

There, beneath three sprigs of trailing willow. The form of my [Resilience], for [Dao] and for Path.

Forward, my junior looked on in disbelief.

One of [Foundation] gestalt, for he had no calloused hands nor trenches where sweat had stained his brow.

No creases as the finest oak’s bark.

“Senior brother,” he whispered, and dispensed platitudes of servile nature. “...and so, I would seek a stake around which to wind.”

Ekaksh, my most stalwart [Spirit Ram], lowered.

“For what purpose, junior?” I asked.

“My lacking [Dao].” he returned.

Curious, I had thought. For was this not my own goal?

I saw then a great bough of gold. Of characters profound and unimaginable. Yet a paltry show of light did not burst forth in the roots I might conjure.

This…

Even now it has me weep.

My [Dao of Roots].

The sight, within me, pulled taught around my core. An oath made, an accord struck with the [Dao]. For I finally knew.

The root does not dig for itself, nor pierce earth and stone for the satisfaction of progress. No, it burrows to spread its foundation wide, that the rest may weather what it must.

And so Ekaksh waxed.

His flesh turned verdant, coarse and sturdy. Each limb, a cord, bound in thin branches. His horns now as supple and reedy as the willow above.

There, I joined him.

A hand atop his illustrious bark, which brought my hand to embody the same. So too did the leaves bloom to replace my scraggle of chin-hair and the bun atop my crown.

“Your Path is your own, junior,” I felt, as much as said. “Strive. Push. Grow. Fail. But do so without concern. For the sky is open to you, and the ground need concern you no longer as it will soon rise to meet it.”

- “Apotheosising into Fable,” a conversation with Abundant Grove Sect Elder [Aspen Li]

If nothing else, Fu’s insight into strategy swelled.

Summarily, it was a replication of his Clouded Court’s tactics on a grander scale, and could perhaps be boiled down to intent and misdirection.

Arumina evidenced this now, the horsewoman at her fore. An accord was struck between the pair, albeit skewed - unbeknownst to the latter, and they advanced upon a party that had rejected their offer of alliance with violent actions.

In the midst of a dawn-drenched valley, another retinue of spectres charged. These, hostile to the Eighty Second’s forces.

Fifty podao-bearing soldiers whose footfall may well have thundered if not for their ethereal nature. Higher ground and superior numbers only accentuated their might, and made the battle’s outcome no attempt at guesswork.

But the Vajra appeared as stoic as her monastic robes suggested. No concern evident for the ten spectres held between she and her ally. They merely held, their own shafts levelled to meet the incoming party.

[Light Qi] dissolved the landscape. A reminder of Cheng Rao and his illusory [Dao] that shed any aspersions of their smaller number.

For hundreds of allied spectres then appeared aside their comrades, which Fu knew to be more than either possessed.

Timing clouded their foe’s judgement, and the mundane, scholarly cultivator further up the hillside responded with a single cry. “Retreat!”

The hostile spectres’ momentum ceased, pivoting from their charge to return whence they had come.

Arumina’s hand fell to issue her own command. A great loosing of spears and shafts that soared to plunge into the stalling spectres. The points dissipated all they touched. Clean blows in place of bloodied flesh if real beings were to clash.

“This eighty second rate daoist feels a sadness for these [Vestiges],” she sighed, granting her comrade an earnest, sorrowful look. “All are beings of the [Dao], and though we return them to the great cycle…”

“Our understanding on this differs, valued friend,” returned the horsewoman. “But better these than living souls. Were these constructs widespread the [Eastern Demon Front] would be cleansed in mere centuries.”

“Amituofo. This daoist would not think on such bloodshed.”

The horsewoman gave an affirmative nod, and blew through the warring ranks to confront their human foe. This blew far from Fu’s [Senses], losing what conversation they held to the passing breeze.

In ode to his Sect, the fisherman was atop his belly. Grains curtained his face, embracing him in their cover as he observed these foes at a hundred paces distant. It painted their forces in a broad spread, and similarly had him doubt his ability to reach the Vajra before her ally could react.

However, his target’s command of [Light Qi] was a facet of [Mind] cultivation. A path of small [Resilience].

All he required was a moment.

Fu blur-

A startling, imminent warning shocked through Hushi. He held firm, absorbing an impression that soon revealed its origin.

Not one stride from his rump, the grains parted. A practitioner of his [Clouded Ghost Arts], this beast was not. It clucked through the grasses, dipping its head with rapt attention to what insects gathered in the undergrowth.

His [Senses] split from the clash ahead, where a duel of single combat began to secure some unknown outcome, and put his hearing to the tapping of talons and beak.

A [Spirit Pheasant].

The bird gormlessly plodded to his front, bringing the pluck of motion into equal height with his own eye.

Hushi lashed before the bird might unmake them. A pair of teal arms that birthed a quiet snap as the bird’s neck angled.

Innocuous, were the Heavens not cruel.

Cold drew into the pair, which only amplified the sensation. A frigidity of Qi that swept through their shared [Channels], depositing a kernel within. But this… The energy, he found, had his thoughts spiral with hostility.

A thought of hunger akin to [Demons].

Fu lost all grip on his [Qi Suppression] for a hair of time, now faced with a force long put absent by circumstance.

His [Hollow Ivory Splinter] filled, if fractionally, and his [Ink] heated in contrast to the cold.

Let us seek more, Hushi…

Hooves beat across the grasses, and reason returned as he tightened his grip upon a blade that he could not recall drawing. A breath put his mind in equilibrium. Ready to face the stampeding hooves ahead.

Misdirection.

The [Spirit Pheasant’s] corpse was lifted in his rise, and he affected a disapproving grin as he cast it across the intervening distance. “You are a brutish woman, and I have no interest in your advances,” he called. “But it is only natural that bland birds might wish to roost in the best trees.”

“Fu Gao, I will cut that dishonourable tongue from your mouth. Fengzhou Yi Nuo spoke of your villainy, and the righteous cannot allow stains such as you to walk the land!”

Fu spoke, seeking to amplify his image with words heard from the horsewoman’s ally. “I hear only the words of a juvenile. Honor? Righteous? Something spoken on the shores of unimportant villages.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

A broiling rage had the woman’s cheeks flush.

[Dao of Wayward Breezes]. The rıghtful source is n0velfire.net

His next step put him to the rear of Arunima, where a pressing boundary of Qi threatened his next move. A wall of warmth, pit against his [Senses]. A threat of power that would ill reward those who moved closer.

[Defensive Array]? In the form of a treasure, perhaps.

It held his planned strike at bay, and drew a scoff in its place. “Girl,” he said. “That brute has eyes but fails to see. You will not make the same mistake. Do not interfere with the Sepulchral Sabre Sect, lest you wish for a swift death.”

Arunima’s face tightened. “This daoist knows such a sect would not reveal-” Her words stopped short as they met Fu’s back. At the shameless disregard he cast as he walked away.

He turned but once, piquing a brow. “Do the clouds conceal themselves from the land below?”

His foe stalled the incoming horsewoman with a gentle palm, though Fu caught the rage upon [Spirit Beast] and cultivator alike in his final glimpse. With a casual gait he descended the valley, shading himself further with a tip of the douli.

These actions of his were fractured, he knew. Disparate with the patience he so wished to employ. But the horsewoman’s presence was a bet he would not hedge, recalling well her [Might] when first they had clashed.

I must isolate Arunima and discover how to bypass her [Defensive Array], if that is indeed what I felt. Her [Intent] did not feel as this, but may again be a ploy.

“We have seeded doubts about our intentions,” he whispered to Hushi. “At the least it may grant time before she rallies the trial-goers against us.”

The octopus was quiet, ruminating on recent events. Their [Hollow Ivory Splinter], and the changes it had stirred.

An inspection best saved for the safety of their fortress. Which the Heavens obliged, for once more the [Mystic Realm] retracted in scale. To be upon the ground during such was novel, more so as his peripheral [Senses] were focused upon the surrounding wind.

The current compounded in almost bloated form, before ribboning back to normality. A bulge of air that increased its strength to compensate for the reduced distance it had to roam.

A section of his [Dantian] warmed.

Interesting.

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