Fatherly Asura

…to address the sparsity within our branch’s realm.

The [Far Whisper] has prevented the accumulation of natural resources, despite the instinctual quiet of our local population of [Spirit Beasts].

Herein lies a compendium within the March’s suitable distance.

[Water Qi] [Imperial Realm 5,501]

Three interconnected caves with varying degrees of [Core Formation Grade] purity, filtered with sufficient levels of [Soul Qi].

The eastern sea holds myriad quantities of [Spirit Coral], accumulated and harvested over a span of three hundred moons to prevent depletion.

Addendum: (Last collection: Two hundred and thirty four moons prior)

North, the Imperial Repository controls movement to deposits of [Ghostwater Ore] along the riverbank, forbidding access.

[Water Qi] [Imperial Realm 11,301]

A range of four thousand li beyond the [Paifang] connecting this, and [Imperial Realm 454], lies the domain of a powerful [Spirit Ape]. Deludedly self-styled as the Ten Waterfalls King.

Attempts to breach his territory in search of the potent spiritual herbs within are not advised.

Furthermore…

“Imperial Interests, Yellow.” - Three Intricacies Clan, [Shores of Heavy Whisper]

The methods of prolonged battle came in turn. [Sound Qi] would ravage the chamber, descend in physical rings both from the daoist’s bell and the rattle overhead. For each set enacted from the [Wind Phantom Strides], Fu would introduce more.

An upturn, and rotation, then [Half Cloud Step] would surge so that her calf might be scored near the tendon. Separation, clash, fresh motions from the ever-present chime to dissuade this course again.

But Fu would wait. Sustain his course so that the daoist might think this the extent of his abilities.

[Dao of Withdrawal].

In two steps he emerged beneath her guard, and the force of his burst was such that her gun split in twain on the defence.

Her [Sound Qi] washed across the chamber as he vanished once more.

[Wind Phantom Strides]. His chain at distance. Close. [Half Cloud Step]. A shift between martial styles to keep this foe ever on the backfoot.

Yet to describe it as this might put Fu upon some intangible pillar, untouched by blows or the radiating manifestations that wracked the space.

Where truth had him bloodied.

The daoist was no fledgling, nor fresh disciple. As expected of one that stood at the peak of this pagoda- the leader of the [Spring] Chime clan, or one, for his intelligence had revealed little where their hierarchy was concerned.

Now, she wielded her gun as Zhu did his tong fa. One length in each hand, striking, as if she wished to will the air aflame.

Fu’s [Senses] warned of a change above, near obscured by his blanket of mists. A field so thick that naught but the motion of those within could be inaccurately traced.

The [Sound Qi]’s physical presence rumbled now. It distorted the cladding fog by whorling and pushing so that his [Withdrawal] carried him as an errant current might. Far left, where he wished right, and into the path of the rattle’s own conjurations.

He remained within. His body was mist, and a part of this moving fugue, carrying him where the force pushed beneath a colossal drain of mental energy. Fu felt adrift. Pained. Exhaustion mounted in the passing moments.

After all, this clash depended only on time. It awaited Shuidi’s efforts above.

This daoist is truly talented. No matter what occurs, we must cripple her.

Hushi impressed the same thought.

And lurched.

Both cultivator and [Spirit Octopus] converged, timing their movements to sail above more waves of unleashed [Sound Qi]. Skyward. In simplicity, Fu’s chain encircled the great suspended rattle, choking the scales with each tightening link. And from here he sped, rebounding through the [Wind Phantom Strikes].

From north to east to south and west, spurred on by [Half Cloud Step] as the daoist gave chase with her manifestations. His feet planted upon the chamber’s interior wall- the serpent’s wound body, propelling him in swift arcs to fasten the noose further with every rotation.

Hushi’s attempt far differed.

Six arms of wind streamed in the mist-rich arena, clamping atop his chain. Another encirclement, but a physical gale that now represented his partner’s flesh.

Twin impressions followed.

[Dao of Crushing].

Gold permeated Hushi’s wind-like form in tandem with a glow that rode Fu’s weapon. The characters shone profoundly, manifesting as they had not before.

Where once there came a second chain, or second arm, lending strength to the effort- no longer. There was no leave to ponder why.

The force magnified.

Deafened, Fu heard no recoiling screech nor agonized hiss. He saw blood fount, birthed as both he and Hushi’s pressure of [Dao] pulverized all between their grasps. All about the room thrashed as the [Spirit Serpent] processed its pain, unspooling to smash great gaps through the pagoda’s exterior.

Debris rained, a rattle fell, and the created holes had his mists trail outside.

With a swift eye he found himself glancing. Open air was close, as was the reeling daoist no more than twenty strides away. Resonant pain had overcome her. Common for Imperials whose borders had never been troubled.

Her serenity had broken, and her hands swabbed over phantom sensations in legs that yet remained intact.

Rarely did regret lace his blade, thus the blow was gentle. A heart punctured. How he cradled her to the ground followed this fashion. But no more. Courtesy could never deter duty.

The surrounding winds coalesced as Fu broached the pagoda’s edge, seeing a chaos of Imperials crowd the tower’s far base. Yellows, and further reserves of Orange given the honor of entering a district of the caste above.

Here, it seemed Five Silences City held entire avenues of their colour.

Hushi met his shoulder, content in his un-reflected form. Reduced enough that his midden hugged as Fu roamed to the tallest point of the [Spring] Chime compound, passing an urgent resonance through his brooch.

As fresh wind filled his lungs, Shuidi greeted her partners. The diminutive [Spirit Crab] scuttled atop the final trim at the roof’s cap. A decorative rod, and the element of the [Spring] Chime’s undoing.

Confirmation of Pinxui’s report had long been handled by [Intermediary Wisdom], spied across a distance from their Warship.

“Is it done, sister?” he asked, unable to hear his own words.

Her pincer tapped upon no small mass of [Profundity]. To an intersection of golden circuits that used this rod as a fulcrum. Fu bent to inspect it, and the illumination of his [Karma]-seeking beacon cast all that he required.

A resonance returned from below.

Moments.

The target upon his back, this sun-matching light, would be seen for a thousand li. This was doubtless. With the use of his ears Fu might witness the response below. What cries came from Yellow Moon Hall or the remaining ascetics, or what fresh orders were about to unmake his position so high above.

But he waited. Held, until three matching signatures surged to the rooftop aside him. That of Anfang, Parvati and Udvah. The lattermost’s beacon was swollen- bulging as if layered with those of many others.

Stolen from NovelFire, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Udvah exchanged words with readable motion. “[Dao of Sanctuary],” he shared, and answered all.

To respond, Fu gestured high. “Swiftly.”

Then Shuidi’s [Water Qi] solidified. No mist to be swept away, but rivulets spread across the entirety of the pagoda’s peak. Simple half-spheres. Drops that snapped to become needles in the time one might take to breath.

More than mere disruption.

Shuidi’s manipulation surged in myriad directions along the [Array] interred there, raging in golden light to blaze further and further. From peak to base, and on to each corner of the Yellow district’s entirety.

Some facet of Fu cursed his temporary deafness, for the sound would be a thing to behold. But he leapt first, and boarded the deck of a lesser Warship as it emerged from Udvah’s storage. The [Dao of Collections] already enlarging it- thrusting it forward as his second commanded it to soar.

And below… Below, Five SIlences City ruptured. Night was here, and the [Far Whisper] carried. Words could not describe the chaos of toppling structures, nor how the very ground collapsed and swallowed those about the [Spring] Chime clan’s compound.

Clatter giving rise to more.

Amidst it Fu held his expression calm, a hand on the Warship’s rail. His disciples emerged from the [Dao of Sanctuary], well-bloodied and awestruck.

No beacon shone between them.

🀧

Caution bid the Wayward Winds to the farthest skies, as it would for a time. He needed field no address on his return to the main vessel, not to his inaugurated nor those recruited from the Crimson Shoal Sect or True Serendipity Association. Identified as such until their trial was passed, and he held no split in factions.

Regardless, many saw his arrival and that of the disciples to his rear. He was sure that whispers rose between them, for their lips moved in subtle fashion. Gazes, more, for they were wide until averted by a following bow.

Another bath was drawn. Another bath was had. Indeed, the rejuvenating [Spirit Herbs] afloat there almost had him slumber within the calming heat. But he could not, and wrapped his thoughts around a more prevalent course.

The ears mended first. His cultivation came second.

Such simplicity: the cycling of Qi, the refilling of his [Core] and progress towards stubborn [Meridians] had hours pass.

A [Spirit Core] aided more, tolerated by [Pull].