Fatherly Asura

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All traces of his second half had vanished beyond the threshold of a fresh [Paifang] some hours prior, only to now emerge with a greater resonance than before.

Fu Gao stroked his whisker, but did not praise the revelation. To give compliment was akin to boasting or self praise, and his Path told that whatever increase had been achieved was but a single step towards true strength.

Enough indulgence.

“Youngling. Hold.”

Concentric rings were etched into the grounds of this subterranean dwelling, reinforced a hundredfold over with myriad concealment [Arrays], formations, boundary flags and an immortal’s fortune of reaped, [Water Qi]-aligned resources.

“Old master?”

The [Shrine of Final Skies] opened as though a seam was cut from thin air, and within the Old One floated. “This trove holds hidden depths. Fresh entries granted by Gao Fu’s return. Hmm. Within the same realm, yes, your inventory might be shared. This wizened fish is certain such a gift might bring benefits, no?”

So saying, a scattering of fresh materials floated into sight.

“This begs questions of the treasure? A thing to ponder, no, Shuidi? The mysteries of Heaven are rightfully the domain of the sharpest among us.”

The [Spirit Crab] puffed, smarmily.

“Our [Shrine of Final Skies] will bring ruminations later, brother Fu,” she scoffed. “We are not so powerful yet that time and vicissitudes prove trivial. Clear your mind.”

He firmed. “As you say, sister.”

As with day into night, the shrine vanished silently.

Frost spread across Fu’s palm as the final treasure appeared from storage, emitting a corona of [Profundity] so cold it had the gold interspersed with frigid white.

A snowflake and [Dao Treasure] both.

Shuidi whisked [Mist Qi] about it, landing it precisely where it was needed at the great formation’s center.

Water burst from one hundred and thirty two [Spirit Cores] around the formation, loosing the [Inner Reserves] of each slain beast. The energies grew rampant as Shuidi’s workings caught hold, encouraging them to ebb and split in myriad directions.

Fu and Hushi awaited it in the lotus position.

Eager.

The underground space held no entry save for those of [Spectral Qi], for it was more grave than cavern.

Thus it filled. Thus it raged.

Fully submerged by immortal-grade Qi, the cultivators enshrouded themselves in layers of their [Dao] to combat the snowflake’s violence of cold.

Such immediate, insidious pain delivered a welcome clarity that expedited their recited mantra, and their [Conception Vessel] manifested before them.

Yet even here was in stasis.

Conquered by a depth no [Winter] of theirs had possessed.

“A gale, a breath, a tempest. To know the clouds as this is to declare ourselves half-blind and ignorant. Let us become whole.”

They could not touch the [Worldly Dao] such as Sages knew and initiates chased. Nigh a lifetime had passed since the days where inexperience had sealed that fate.

Here, they expanded [Spirit].

They willed not the [Dao of Blizzards], of [Ice], [Thaw], [Penetration], [Halting Tides], [Snowfall], [Stagnancy], nor even the prodigious Yin energies within to overcome their thoughts.

The [Dao] that could be spoken was not the [Dao].

Hence his [Spirit] felt, and did not listen.

A beast of cerulean eyes held watch within an ivory sea. Here the wind dared not blow and the many suns offered supplication in place of rays.

The sea was lonesome without shadows to comfort her solace.

All extremities of Yin lay within the bear’s paw, cycling [Winter] and [Dark], [Depth] and [Ephemerality] between each ice-white claw.

Sorrow.

Until her Mistress rose.

Heaven’s greatest jewel for which time itself was named. Her maiden and moon.

These sorrowful claws reached, bounding, entombing each worthless sea before her in frigid ivory.

Her maiden was close.

[Summer] dared rise as her claw neared but a hair of distance away.

Thaw.

All of her grasp cascaded, losing cold, rigidity, the shape she demanded of it, and became as roar of fresh meltwater.

A beast of cerulean eyes held watch within a verdant sea. Here the rains fell with her will and the many moons dared not bring their midnight cowl.

The blaze of those eyes engraved themselves upon the cultivators’ soul.

[Ink] burned.