Fatherly Asura

This daoist spied a widow, her home wracked by [Winter’s] wrath.

How cruel were the Heavens to have rooms sodden by snow’s melted plague and her floors blackened by all that came after.

“It has stood for forty moons,” was her complaint. “My husband’s hands were skilled.”

The [Paifang], freshly manifested some many li over, cared not.

“These rains are not old rains,” said this daoist. “They are more, and new,” and so the forest was inspected.

“The City Lord is kind. These trees might be cut,” she offered.

“These trees are old trees, but must be older yet to become new.”

“Observation of Heavenward Properties, Daoist [Ponderous Carpenter]”

The stagnancy was not of overwhelming proportions. To liken its force to his concept, that of Inevitability, he found it lacking.

With cyclic gestures outstretched from his lotus, Fu toyed with the wind’s ribbons. [Death Qi] was a pervasive element, but here he found little in the way of finality. What purity of Qi he reaped from the surroundings was shallow, as was the insight he might glean for his [Dao of Four Horizons].

He could not find benefit in conjuring the memory of a mildly disconcerting gale down upon his enemies.

For this reason, he stopped.

“Master Ban often remarks about both Zhu and I’s lack of inclusion. An assassin that does not chase the [Dao of Death] or [Dao of Execution] as most others do. Well, we would not find insight into it here even if we were to chase it.”

Hushi illustrated a point by conjuring five separate poisons upon each arm.

“Hah,” smiled Fu. “I suppose that all things are derivatives of the two. Life and Death. A cycle of change we now know intimately.”

One half of us, at the very least.

Separated by the spatial boundaries of this [Mystic Realm], and perhaps more, the distant pang of resonance tethering they and their twins could scarcely be felt. Only the [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms’s] presence spoke of it at all.

The impressions from Hushi on this were regular. He was intensely curious for their return, pondering what equilibrium or effect would come about when they would finally meet their second selves after ascension to late [Core Formation].

But that was a later concern.

This realm’s [Summer] had arrived.

A tense circuit marked Yuling and Nuwang’s impression through the grass below. Tension crackled between this pair and the fetid [Spirit Badger] across.

Of [Death Qi], the beast’s ferocity was belied only by an emaciated form.

Yuling struck like floating leaves.

Her saber dissuaded this beast’s raking claws once, twice and a third until she shifted weight to breach its guard. Deep was the cut along its side. Rage-fuelled was the retaliation of fangs.

The technique Grandmother Hua had begrudgingly recommended was named [Reckless Saber Severs Trees]. Problematically, this tome was not in their possession. Thus these strokes were from the Sepulchral Saber Sect’s foundational tome, [Imitation Footwork, Saber].

Without intangibility, its effectiveness brought Yuling closer than she ought to be.

Fu observed the myriad, bleeding cuts she inflicted before Nuwang’s rear leg was ostensibly shredded, birthing a shriek from both.

Slothful mist rose from the assassin’s pipe. How cruel it would be to spoil this opportunity.

[Life Qi]-rich blood incensed the [Spirit Badger]. Great gouges were carved in its wake, rending earth and grass in its pursuit of a hobbling Nuwang and grief-stricken Yuling, scrambling from its advance.

But her breathing returned swifter than lightning. A steady, initiate’s suppression that brought regularity to her stance.

“Nuwang. This is no assassin,” she declared, clutching the saber as though the beast was no more than firewood to split.

Then all sight of her vanished beneath its trampling weight and a wet tear permeated the space.

Adequate.

Plastered in foul viscera, Yuling butchered her way free from the now-corpse to finally rest upon a knee. “My sister, are you well?”

“The warrior’s shame, sister. A blow upon one’s rear. It will not be repeated,” growled the proud lioness.

Yuling grit her teeth, resolute. Under the regime of her training Fu had forbidden all but ten [Spirit Cores], storing these in a mundane pouch over any form of spatial storage. She drew one now, siphoning the vast quantities of [Life Qi] to repair Nuwang’s [Foundation Realm] flesh with relative ease.

[Three Wisps From Breath].

A grand working of mists released at the hill’s base, lifting one partition of his making. This door dispersed to the sound of guttural rumblings, loosing two [Spirit Boar] in the peak’s direction.

The daughter readied.

🀧

Father and daughter met on the eighth day.

Her eyes were now darker for different reasons, as was the slump to her once-pristine posture. A good instructor could not spoil their disciple with too much sleep, for a heavy dozer was one that would sooner not wake at all.

He intervened at the brink, appearing as three [Spirit Hawks] dove with meteoric speed. [Intent] flared, leaving only the screeches as they fled from his path.

“Father,” she bowed, forcing through the weariness.

Hushi embraced her first.

“I had known one daughter to be a lion, but both?” he chuckled. “You do me proud.”

Nuwang’s head lifted higher. “Indeed.”

“Gratitude. These are kind words. We await your next instruction.”

Another chuckle fled his lips, and he motioned her to begin walking. Her voyage over these past days had led into a flatter grassland crowned in each cardinal direction by an array of colossal, ancient teeth of disparate shapes.

Beneath the curve of a profoundly thick canine, Fu called for rest. “The [Three Medicinal Migrations] wards off much need for temporary [Defensive Arrays].”

“[Qi Suppression] surely does benefit from its addition,” mused Yuling. “It would be suspect to sense a [Defensive Array] that does not hold something within, no? I glimpse part of your reasoning on external means now, father.”

“Birds flock to the tallest trees, and so serpents might rest easy within their bushes. You have the way of things. Now, I would know a thing,” he smiled. “What meaning is there in death?”

The smith’s crafted saber was at rest on her lap. In truth, a dull thing of no ornamentation, bearing great resemblance to the Jianghu’s many jian save for its singular edge.

Her hand did not stray far from the hilt.

“We do not know it intimately enough,” Yuling finally said.

“A wise answer. Then, tell me what you felt.”

Cultivator and partner shared a measured look, as if the lioness was granting permission. “At our first meeting, the link between Nuwang and I was muddied. A shame upon each of us that we could not parse memory and reality for those fledgling days.”

Shuidi rose attentively. “Few stains of reconstitution mark you, Nuwang. Were this Gao Shuidi a lesser talent she might hold envy for it has gone unnoticed until now.”

I had not asked. How poor of me. There is time beyond this to learn of my daughter’s origin.

“Memories of hunts through life-rich wood and dense lilac roots. The feel of a carcass between my teeth. Ascension to the middle stages of [Core Formation]. Nuwang suffered more from mundanity than I did these vestiges of victory and struggle. But through this trial father, I feel closer now to her than I might have thought possible.”

“A wiser answer yet,” smiled Fu. “That Nuwang carries forth her knowledge of conquest is a boon. But independently, what do you feel? These [Spirit Beasts] are not mindless, even if lacking in the [Spirituality] to reason their way from this trial. Speak on this. “

This answer was swift. “Defying Heaven is a bloody Path.”

Fu inwardly frowned.

Whose words are these? Not my daughter’s.

“This is Yuling’s voice, and yet I fail to hear her,” he admonished. “If this is what you think I wish to hear then this father has failed miserably.”

Yuling’s head drooped in shame. “As I said father, I do not know it intimately enough.”

“Something to be joyous of. Indulge me, please.”

“Forgiveness. Grandmother’s teaching was ever to speak in decisive blows. With surety. If I must answer now, then I might only say that I feel detachment. That I cannot bridge the need for advancement, the thrill of combat and the extinguishment of another’s soul for my solitary benefit. Before we bonded, Nuwang hunted, competed, pushed her conquest to secure safety from growing [Spirit Beasts]. Here I stand, honing my saber against others that have no part nor need to be involved.”

Softly, Shuidi appeared at her shoulder. “Kindness would have responsibility placed on Gao Fu, Gao Hushi and this Gao Shuidi. That is an unwanted blanket. Think not of these beasts as you would a partner. Search Nuwang’s will for the truth of it.”

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Yuling caressed her saber. “Aunt?”

“One must know cold to recognise warmth. Morality, righteousness, cause, justice. This training is for instinct, yes, and to develop your response to true threats unconstrained by those of sparring matches. But it is also so that you might recognise death, know its cost, and choose if it is worth paying.”

Before any further conversation, Fu produced their meal. The realm of these foodstuffs was high enough that it did not quickly degrade, and this was aided by the slowing effect of being stored within his ring.

The fish broth was delicious, if better warm.

So began a talk of smaller things. A chance to better know the woman his daughter had become outside of fresh training and the confines of routine. In exchange, he allowed her to ask on things her siblings should never discover.

Shuidi’s greatly embellished tales of the Clouded Courts lasted until neither lioness nor daughter could hold back sleep.

Strange, then, for as the moon rose atop this realm Fu thought it a rare sight. A stark thing, and [Death Qi’s] hold had the night cool even in [Summer’s] presence, but a beauty. “Hushi, Shuidi, the night is yours.”

The [Spirit Crab] waved this suggestion away, content with Master Ban’s prescribed readings.

Hushi found greater joy merely watching night descend on the realm. His impressions spoke of rumination and an eagerness to remain by their daughter’s side.

Thus Fu only nodded. “Then I will return by morning.”

🀨

Administration and consolidation had steered Fu’s vessel since his arrival home. There had been much talk of backing, establishment and changes for posterity, presenting an interesting challenge for the once-fisherman.

To solidify his family with all his tenure had granted.

The mass grave about him was not of this ilk.

An assassin rarely stumbled upon opportunity, but it was well documented that they seized all they came across.

These emaciated corpses from a suspected, infantile [Beast Tide] were strewn in vast swathes, long succumbed to his bloody practice.