Fatherly Asura

…plainly, it can be reduced to a system of ridiculous beliefs.

These Warring tribes are misguided in myriad ways, and none more than their proclivity to endorse to [Demonic Arts].

But to understand this blight, to steer their shallow minds towards the greater path as all charitable souls feel obligated to do - one must seek the root.

Consumption is but a facet of Heaven’s Gifts.

That of the natural.

For this is how these aberrant brutes grow.

To them, it is an affront to drink of Heaven’s energies.

To take from the ambient and reduce the residual quantities that bolster all things.

They take only what is offered; in berries, meat, water, juices, vine and leaf, all while rejecting the constructs of civil life.

Those of fabrication, alchemy, construction and ingenuity.

As wayward children might.

“Primitive Thoughts,” a collective work.

There existed a spectrum within [True Lord Grade] realms more vast than any disparate strengths within the length of [Core Formation]. Once immortality was reached… well, Fu could not speak to it.

His experience was only of [Reliquaries] and brief glimpses.

Bingbai’s preparation, [Constitution], insight into the [Dao], [Constellation Seeds] and the refining cauldron of a turbulent history had conspired to land both ghosts into the category of elites.

It muddied otherwise clear waters.

Four days had passed within the realm, pitting the group against a ceaseless onslaught of near immortal insects possessing strange cultivation.

From larvae, to adolescents, to the oddity of foes now faced.

[Half Cloud Step] wove Fu about a danger of oncoming branches. Staffs gathered from the fledgling growths of the realm’s great trunk and put to ready use by six-limbed figures of hair and carapace.

[Spirit Beetles] with the physique of men.

The time for direct action nears it end. Neither of us have the time to indulge any further.

An axe-head formed of Zhu’s [Troubled Hermit’s Moondew] repeatedly bisected the coming insects, reducing them to common pests. Definitive, unlike the shallower, if swifter cuts of Fu’s own chain-blades.

Here the realm worked against him, for the abundance of [Life Qi] remade what shamefully superficial wounds he could inflict.

He passed Qi through his brooch.

[Dao of Four Horizons].

The wind stole him to empty air, where Zhu met a heartbeat later. “The Heavenly Roaming Prefecture would be overrun in a moment should this [Beast Tide] cross the [Paifang],” he said. “Realms of [Life Qi] are vital for Jade Songbird City’s growth, and yet it must be collapsed to avoid ruin.”

“I don’t enjoy the grotesque sheen of their blood. A beast may choose to seek physical perfection through cultivation, but it is a disservice to show themselves before it’s complete,” frowned Zhu. “Hmm. But yes, this realm must be collapsed.”

Their respective shrines were no longer visible, recalled due to strain.

Shuidi signalled skyward. “This Gao Shuidi finds no pride in spiritless things. Let us go.”

“This bores me,” agreed Zhu, standing firm atop compacted light. “These foes won’t inspire a martial breakthrough.”

[Dao of Four Horizons].

Clad by the cowl of his internalized [Dao] and the [Clouded Ghost Arts], Fu leapt into a gale, vanishing farther in ascent of the great trunk. Zhu’s pace did not require him to wait, as most did, allowing for his full swiftness.

Even still, many hours passed.

Such was the grandeur of this realm’s monolith.

They unfolded before the tallest boughs began to sprout, sensing an emanation of Qi from a wide hollow where the branches left open space. More profound than the force felt beyond sight was the sickly aroma that nigh choked these approaching ghosts.

But neither commented. In truth, neither could glean the other.

Fu thought it a mark of progress that Zhu’s bloated [Senses] could not detect their presence, though only a fool would show confidence with so fragile an assurance.

The scent turned cloying.

Myriad [Spiritual Mosses] clung to the trunk’s inner hollow, leaking this aroma. Some pure condensate of [Life Qi] that slickened the ground and moistened each wall. A trove for those of this [Affinity], for even with his [Pull], it would take many moons to fully absorb.

[Senses] revealed more.

Guards of the [Reliquary] proper, at-watch and motionless by this wall of moss. Slender beasts of humanoid form with hardened shell upon each of their four arms and a forking horn upon their brow. Little resemblance to humanity existed across their faces, for receded mandibles and smooth carapace took the place of what should be there.

This was no less true for their Matriarch.

Her horn bore radials like that of a monarch’s crown. Vast silken wings shawled her subdued form, dark and reflective of the surrounding [Life Qi] she absorbed in thin, flowing rivulets.

A [Trial Guardian]. It is she that controls this realm. Pride has perhaps extended her reach beyond the [Reliquary] that most are confined to. How fortunate that we need not undergo a [Trial] to collapse these lands.

Insects were as much beast - as much of Heaven and nature - as tigers and turtles, but the aberrant appearance of these beings was near [Demonic].

Fu supposed it mattered little.

Resonance passed through their brooch to mark a countdown. A pulse wherein the mask of chieftains, sect leaders and pride fell away to remind both of a darker, simpler Path to victory.

Both brooches resonated and myriad actions became one.

A colossal plum axe bit deep into the [Trial Guardian’s] neck.

[Wind Phantom’s Breath: Impending Mortality Dew].

Her lidless eyes snapped to the damage’s source, finding neither figure nor blade amongst the deluge of poison Fu streamed atop her wound.

An immortal [Intent] built, promising oblivion.

Twin shrines erupted into the Matriarch’s hollow and the scene became that of screaming wind against impregnable black.

The immortal beetle’s wings flared like lightning manifest, snapping through the ephemeral form of the [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud].

Feral was her buzz. “Seed-takers. Heaven’s reapers. You-”

Arm, pincer and fist plunged into the axe’s wound. Unseen to all, a wing and plum-rich palm entered aside them.However these implements of ghosts were merely conduits for greater forces - entwined and familial - that of Hollow nature.

Fu felt the mirror of his [Demonic Art] as he conjured it.

[Spectre Steals the Stars].

Hushi impressed Zhu’s own [Art]. “[Slake the Thirst of Plums].”

But alone this was not enough.

Had he time, Fu might have grimaced for the blockage he was to inflict upon himself. To cultivate was difficult enough with his current Qi impartment, and this necessity would slow his progress further.

His mind went to [Ink].

To an accumulated change he had yet to consolidate over many [Seasons], allowing only trickles to grace his Path.