Fatherly Asura

There are twenty eight standard alchemical figurations widely recognised across the Clear Sky Empire.

We will begin with none.

Understanding comes first.

In wider lexicology a formation may well address [Arrays], strategies, cultivation methods, Qi directions or [Core Formation]. It must be stated that these may play some, or no part going forth.

What this text refers to are the precise motions - accompanied by proper application of [Inner Qi] to refine the materials within cauldrons, furnaces or rare cases: any space occupied by a peerless talent.

Such formations were created, and propagated, as they are optimal teachings for the fledgling alchemist to begin their path, but must be stated that they are by no means comprehensive or without fault.

Material separation or the titration of individual aspects forms the basis, and is well covered by the initial six sets of formations.

Speciality refinement is covered in the next ten.

Amplification in the following two.

The remaining ten are centuries beyond any who hold this tome within their hands.

- “Twenty Eight Figurations, a Bastardisation” - Scribes of the Cherry River Alchemist

The next shift gave merit to the flames, for these roared as if the Heavens were enraged. Hues of malefic blue roared across the ground, wreathed in such unnatural tides of smoke that Fu could scarcely see those arrayed against his fortress.

Though this was not to his detriment, but their own.

Four bodies led eighty spectres, which held fast despite their infernal scenery. Had held fast for some time now, gripped by indecision. Fu would grant himself only a moment longer, well assured by the conversation he followed with expanded [Senses].

“But I say again,” whimpered the scholarly strategist. “There is a reason for his direction. Fu Gao would not intend for us to arrive did he not hold a thing in preparation.”

“He wished us removed from our fortresses,” mused the effeminate cultivator.

Arunima might well have looked consternate could Fu see her front, but even void of grasses and smoke he could not see through a person’s back. She spoke with this tone, however, in veiled frustration and through a front of wisdom. “This eighty second rate daoist would urge caution, lest her new comrades fall to the villain’s schemes. Yet if her lacking insight is worth anything, she might suggest that Fu Gao wishes for this inaction.”

“To what end?” mused the strategist.

The horsewoman grunted. “With respect, we beat a dead dog.” Her steed moved a single stride, and no more.

Silence.

“Yet he allowed you to live,” she cursed after three heartbeats, her [Spirit Horse] retreating back. “He makes to claim our flags while we tarry.”

“Then…” squirmed the effeminate cultivator. “Then he would have them. He is no fledgling, I am certain. Should he wish our fortresses, none would yet stand.”

That is enough.

Fu’s [Half Cloud Step] tore him away from his fortress and towards the fresh hellscape of his horizon. It had his eyes blear to rush through such quantities of smoke, and his lungs warmed- if not burned, from the inhalation.

A vaguity of silhouettes burned in coronas of blue. Fortresses drawn close by the latest shift, and by design Fu saw them as a perimeter wall that would end their [Trial] in forced proximity.

Due to this, his flight lasted mere minutes.

The surrounding [Air Qi] flexed as he soared into Arumina’s external courtyard, landing in a tumult of displaced smoke. It lapped with each bound, and Fu drew to a stall, waiting so his disturbance was less pronounced.

Outlines of the spectres blazed inside the smoke, and he would not test the limits of their observation so close to his goal.

He crossed the remaining distance without incident, and had Hushi nestle in the recesses of the courtyard’s gate, moving further himself. The fortress was unfamiliar, but common sense dictated that Arunima’s flag would be inward.

Somewhere high, safe and defensible.

Thus he found himself in a distant room to the rear, with eyes upon five spectres. Staunch, with a merging glow from the banner they protected. Podao, already levelled.

Tight. Yet the task should not be so difficult.

But he did not thrust forth, and instead put himself to the sham of rafters above. Crossing eaves, ever-present no matter the locale.

And waited.

An hour passed.

Another, perhaps, before a resounding cry cut through the dim crackle of flames beyond the walls.

“Fu Gao, reveal yourself!” it cried.

The villain arched a brow in his darkness.

The open fort held them for this length of time? Truly, these strategists overthink things.

Hushi impressed Arunima’s proximity in subtle hints. Slight warnings that were no more than a sense of encroaching danger, given their distance of some several hundred paces. Enough, however, to deduce their position.

It was not until the fourth repeating cry, and a sense that Arunima had stalled before the courtyard’s gate that Fu moved.

Yet… and yet a buzz of Qi set upon his [Senses]. With each silent stride towards the banner, it rose. No great effect, but a quiet thing that had his hackles rise.

[Half Cloud Step]

His hand wrapped tight around the banner’s casing at the end of his [Art], an inversion to avoid the trailing sweeps of the spectres. These stalled as his claim rippled through the fortress, as teal shone in place of Arunima’s light, and as each of the ethereal soldiers shifted allegiance to his own.

“Slay Arunima,” he commanded.

The spectres charged.

Fu emerged onto the ramparts amidst a flood of spectres,

Spectral qiang drowned the skies in a volley, piercing the forces Arunima’s alliance had brought to bear. The horsewoman’s soldiers, the first strategist’s, and then- A [Spirit Stork] was dissipated beneath the barrage, having the effeminate cultivator fall and gargle upon the ground.

“This eighty second daoist’s fortress has fallen,” wept Arunima, and stumbled into the gloom of her horsewoman’s shadow. “Does Fu Gao’s shame know no bounds?”

Falling weapons had the [Spirit Horse] dance in shifting, sidelong jerks. A navigation through well acupunctured ground.

This is not as it is meant to be.

Those spectres on the walls had delivered swift ruin to those within, and the Arunima’s retinue had dispensed the remainder. The first strategist fell next, skewered by a qiang from the rear that had the [False Dust Life Array] claim him thereafter.

Arunima is their sole target, why then have others fallen?

Trickery abound, Fu responded.

“I have failed you, mistress Eighty Second. My master, my Sect,” grunted the horsewoman, raising her sabre high. “We owe you a debt for leading you to the tiger’s den. Gah! I underestimated the cunning of the Sepulchral Saber Sect. Stand to my rear, and I shall deal with the villain!”

Fu landed ten strides distant, where smoke whorled and the glint of fading spectres were heavy. He drew his blade with lax effort. “You are courting death. Now face it.”

A tear sounded.

Something so swift that Fu’s eyes could not process why the horsewoman coughed up blood, nor how she had toppled. But the line showed soon, a shearing where her [Spirit Horse] was bisected to fall in two halves.

Her body struck the ground amidst specks of her [Spirit Beast], crippled and broken before the [False Dust Life Array] claimed her body.

Arunima’s fan glistened with blood. A coating upon each razor edge. “Amituofo,” she teased, throwing back her head to laugh. “You have talent, Fu Gao, but you are a carp among dragons. To think I, student of my great master and mother, [Mistress Eighty Second], would fall to the mere ‘Loot a House on Fire’!”

A grand name for it. I might have called it ‘Fishing with Two Lures’.

With her previous words concerning toad and crippling frogs, a blind man might have seen Arunima’s betrayal coming. Though even surprise would not have had him care about the strangers’ fates.

“Surround her,” he commanded.

The spectres remained stationary. Newest update provıded by NoveI★Fire.net

Stolen novel; please report.

Hushi impressed concern, and a thought of incoming Qi.

With a flick of her sleeve, Arunima dispelled the scene. A farce that had turned each spectre teal, and then, set them upon Fu.

A sea of re-gathered weapons flew from all angles, and his heart raced.

A strategy within my own. Indeed, a peerless talent.

The [Wind Phantom Strides] shifted his body horizontal, and he felt a speartip plunge through his flapping cloth. Another, and five, which began a series. Fu’s [Might] could well have deflected these if not for their untouchable nature, and so he continued.

He landed to the rear, and to the side, edged back as the series prolonged. But he saw then, how they came as waves. Staggered to position him where Arunima wished, to the courtyard’s rear gate where Hushi lay in wait.

[Dao of Wayward Breezes].

Fu moved but a single step, and felt the [Air Qi].

The only air is that created in my wake. All else is still. Stagnant and controlled. An [Array] must work against me.

Again, despite himself, Fu felt admiration for the Vajra. His abilities were countered, his [Arts] and [Dao].

His foe cried out. “Wei, you fool!”

Fu called upon his [Half Cloud Step] a moment too late, and as his foot touched upon the courtyard’s stone once more - gold arose.

Characters and inscriptions blustered by him as if vertical streamers in the wind, and the space was filled with a profundity. More than that, he saw the emergence of his employer. Of Wei, the Star siblings brother, who was cast into visibility from beneath a screen of illusory [Light Qi].

They traded a narrowing of eyes before Fu’s sight was blocked.

Some composition of pristine metal was birthed from the characters, Qi-rich and [Dao]-thick, and he struck against it as it entombed him. The sound reverberated, and a deposit of golden waves lashed the force back against him despite his arm retracting.

Fu stilled, bathed only in this golden light. He rapped a knuckle against it, and by sound he discovered it to be a great bell, if more of Heavenly nature than those daoist’s employed in their routines and rituals.

A muted “Fwah-ha,” marked Wei’s triumph, and Arunima’s voice soon followed.

“Were you a heartbeat later,” came the distorted sound. “Do not celebrate. You are the weakest link in this chain, and sully my brilliance. Go. Tend to the other fortresses’ flags, my victory should be total.”

“As you say, Mistress. I will strive to meet your expectations.”

Whether the man retreated or not, Fu could not sense. But to that end, he impressed his thoughts to Hushi, warning him to remain hidden.

The worst they might do is harm me, the [False Dust Life Array] preserves us.

“The Sepulchral Saber Sect,” began Arunima. “Their initiates should cling to shadows, where they belong. No matter how useful a tool you have made in securing favor with these lesser strategists. Still, they have no eyes here but your own, Fu Gao. This has made you a most sought after commodity.”

“I will sever my own tongue before I allow the likes of you to sully my Sect,” he cried in farce.

“Thus you will remain,” Arunima laughed. “The [Nine Rejuvenations Bell] will repair any damage upon yourself, while having you suffer should you attempt escape. No, assassin, I will claim you beyond the [Trial]’s conclusion. You have only to wait.”

The surroundings fell silent, and Fu…

Fu sat, entering the lotus position. No [Air Qi] reached him within this bell, save for that required to breathe. But, strangely, his conditions were advantageous.

For Arunima’s strategy had unwittingly sealed his preservation until the competition’s end. As such, he felt no shame at his loss. No [Heart Demon] foster for his inability to succeed. The Vajra was formidable in her skill, and he had been bested.

Bested in a competition that was but one part of his true goal.

🀦

Fu awoke from his mediation to a paired warmth. The first of which had his [Ink] throb with discomfort.