Fatherly Asura

All that they wished to know could be learned through instinct, or so [Sullen Saber] implied through simple actions.

And yet-

A fool guesses.

The [Broken Dreams Hegemony] offered myriad benefits with its rage. Occupants of this realm, [Spirit Beasts] of sand-like elemental [Constitution] and grainy similarity to the [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud] surfaced in droves, lending Fu and inexhaustible tide upon which to temper this technique.

[Sullen Saber] demonstrated once more, telegraphing a blow at what must truly be a glacial pace for one of his esteem.

All [Senses] sharpened upon the connecting slice, a jab that levered his taught fingers into the shape of a sabre’s point and onwards, into the granulated chest of a saffron-hued [Spirit Bear].

It bisected.

Cascaded.

Died.

Shuidi forgot to hum, clacking her frustration instead as their own foe rose from some few strides away, constructed from this realm’s own dusts.

A dream-like [Spirit Fox] towered before them, soft and hazy upon its edges as though something that could not quite hold its own shape. Gaseous without the gentle feel of wind or water within it.

Fu had crossed many things from his list of… admittedly, guesses.

Thus he thrust his own palm forth, barraging the [Spirit Fox] with a desperate medley from the [True Wind God Arts]. He did not command his [Spiritual] dragons to rise, and instead focused upon this shallow mimicry of an immortal’s technique.

Condensed [Mist Qi], [Intent] and a measure of [Profundity] burst from his strike, erupting into the [Spirit Fox’s] form to leave a great hole behind. Such was the flesh of an immortal - granulated or no - that the impact seemed to barely phase it.

Three blows followed before the [Spirit Fox] could react, but the [Fatherly Asura’s] agility would not aid any further than this.

[Sullen Saber] cleaved the beast in twain. His [Spirit Sabertooth] emanated disgust.

Swiftly, Fu bowed. “Venerables, we offer forgiveness. Our lack of fundamental understanding limits what we might hope to affect. The flesh of immortals is unlike that of [Core Formation Realm] cultivators, as though it is the difference between Heaven and Earth.”

A vacant stare might be interpreted as reply, and this is what they received.

“What resonates upon impact, and previous impacts is strange upon my tongue. It seems a gestalt material. A confluence of [Body], [Mind], [Spirit] and [Harmony] that draws from each to create something greater than the sum of these parts,” continued Fu.

“This Gao Shuidi suspects a force of four must be used. Direct damage to each used in concert.”

At this, [Sullen Saber]... no, the immortal only minorly shifted his pupils.

From scattered accounts they knew that [Origin Qi] was this force, in theory, for it was what filled one’s being upon ascension to [True Lord Realm]. A unique energy created by whatever secret process one underwent to reach such a stage.

That which filled a cultivator’s [Core] then on.

But could it not be replicated?

“I recall once attacking the mulched corpse of an immortal. [An Array in One Hand],” he shared. “Try as did, our blade could not scrape even his exposed entrails. Then, we thought it a matter of discrepancy, for we had only that moment reached [Core Formation]. Even now, against these beasts we can scarcely disrupt them.”

Again [Sullen Saber] remained vacant, withering, almost. A look that evoked some sense of disappointment, or disbelief at the present cultivator’s stupidity.

His palms rose, purposefully, as though he were explaining to a child. The jian-point of a palm rose as before, yet now it jabbed into his opposite, open palm. In what was surely dramatic fashion for the stoic swordmaster, [Sullen Saber] rushed the spiked palm through the other, dancing his digits once upon the other side.

Then it drew back, repeating twice until he offered up his stomach.

Hushi impressed his thoughts, seeing this gesture as an explosion or detonation of sorts.

Shuidi, for once, refrained from answer.

“It would not be right to strike you,” offered Fu.

Many levels existed on which this statement was laughable. Perhaps in this short tenure with [Sullen Saber] they had grown familiar with one another, for upon his immovable face he saw these all displayed.

Fu lifted a palm.

🀦

Never had Fu asked on Grandmother Hua’s [Affinity], but it became plain as her prodigious Qi restored three of his missing fingertips, four of Hushi’s arms and one half of Shuidi’s pincers.

“Do you suppose this attempt was admirable?” she asked, finally ending the silence of scolding that had hung heavy since his return.

Fu stroked his whisker, much to Ershiba’s cooing amusement.

Hua did not appreciate her partner’s attitude.

“We sought a method beyond our [Impending Mortality Dew]. To speak on all immortals is folly, but we have come across a clutch that might be exploited this way. The Heavens do not smile on us often, Grandmother, thus we cannot rely on these two factors ringing true,” he explained, masking the pull at each corner of his mouth.

A hum quashed what remained. “Bah. You must think the [Cherry River Sage] blind, Gao Fu. We are aware you succeeded, in part,” she snapped. “Shallow understanding is no thing to celebrate, nor will we remain here for these remaining [Seasons] to mend these reckless actions. Heed this lesson well.”

“This Gao Shuidi offers her aid to Grandmother,” interjected Shuidi.

Ershiba’s beak clacked in mimicry. “Before offering aid, one must study their own house three times, no? All that needs done does not require your constant company.”

The [Spirit Crab] dipped.

“Then we will take no more of your time, unless required,” said Fu, bowing. “A thousand gratitudes, Grandmother, venerable Ershiba.”

As Sect Leader, or Patriarch as his disciples had begun to call him after the first grand [Beast Tide] of Jade Songbird Province, he had been negligent. Indeed his [Primordial Law of Tribulations] had pit many on a Path towards his own [Heritage], and amidst this current sea of troubles he had been absent to witness it.

Mirth washed through Hushi as they came upon a fitting sight.

That of Cloud Dragon Hall’s nigh-empty, fog-rich courtyard. Rhythmic impacts rocked the mist about what few disciples remained here as they graduated through the motions of the [True Wind God Arts] and [Tempestual Phantom Tribulations].

Prideful whorls blew.

Despite the passing of many hours, Kang Jae and Shaokang had not returned, meaning that no discussion on [Constellation Seeds] and their associated posterity could be had. Yet it was a fool that allowed his juniors to ignore their foundations.

“Patriarch,” greeted a voice, showing that Jihu Wanjie had broken from her training to meet him.

Fu nodded at the young Vajra woman and her azure [Spirit Lion], observing her through [Immortal Arbiter’s Soul]. “Disciple Wanjie. Such diligence is admirable,” he said, gesturing to the late moon above them. “Your grasp of Cloud Dragon Hall’s techniques are impressive, though it it unsurprising given that you still train at this hour.”

“These disciples are unworthy of praise,” she clasped.

“Oh? Are you correcting your Patriarch?”

The [Spirit Lion] flinched.

“A thousand apologies,” Wanjie remedied. “This lowly red will-”

“Peace, disciple, peace. Though I am hurt you think so little of me. Humor is allowed, no?” he chuckled. “There is a matter I would discuss, but first I would know how my disciple fares.”

Wanjie’s visible emotions were a match for [Sullen Saber’s] own. “This disciple would not trouble the Patriarch, and only wishes to keep shame from Cloud Dragon Hall. Further training is all that we require to truly honor these techniques.”

Mist gently fumed from Fu’s pipe, forming into a starry path. As one of the [Spring] Empire, she recognised the [True Orchid Path] immediately. “My question was more of this nature, Wanjie. To go from Castes to Sects is a leap that few have accomplished, no? I only ask out of curiosity.”

“Those from the Emperor’s- [Sixth Under Heaven’s] realm are not treated favourably in the Clear Sky. Few hold patience or temperance enough to withhold their blades. Cloud Dragon Hall differs greatly.”

Fu nodded. “That, I am glad to hear. The wind blows from all corners, no?”

The disciple said nothing.

A great weight, is this not? To be ashamed of and despised for one’s heritage. She holds a resilience not unlike another we hold dear.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on NovelPhoenix. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Our juniors have all absconded in search of challenge, leaving these halls quite bare. We have noticed that you do not roam further than your duties in the orphanage take you, Wanjie. Does your heritage play a role in this?”

Ah.

Shame blossomed on her cheeks like [Spring’s] own flowers. “This disciple would not tarnish Cloud Dragon Hall’s name by inviting trouble.”

“This peerless Mistress feels slighted, disciple. Do you believe your seniors’ judgement so poor as to welcome one that is unworthy?” hummed Shuidi. Her words grew louder as she blurred atop the douli. “The Patriarch’s humor is not our own. Speak wisely now.”

Wanjie’s [Spirit Lion] made to dip submissively, stopped only by her own hand. “No, Mistress Shuidi. It is a matter of self, not of your flawless judgement. We have looked to the wind for insight, yet lack the talent to glean more than its wayward nature.”

“Hmm. Then there lies your task, disciple. To focus upon one ribbon blinds oneself to the rest. One wind is all winds, and the same stands in reverse.”

“Mistress?”

The douli dipped towards a far corner of their courtyard, where sand flew and a great [Spirit Whale] delivered harsh truths upon the nature of blades.

“Another wayward wind blows in that corner, disciple. You will find that your plight aligns with her own,” said Fu. “Therein lies your task. As Patriarch I order you to become lost with this wind. Truly wayward. Together, perhaps, you might understand something of its nature.”

A kowtow was delivered, though none among the trio held any love for the gesture. “Mistress Yasodhara is a member of your household, Patriarch. We are unworthy of standing in her presence. To think-”

[Intent] burst from Hushi, though it held more whimsy than violence.

Samudra’s eye was drawn.

Wanjie firmed slightly beneath its weight, then bowed. “As you will.”

The trio stood quietly as introductions were made, though their personalities made it no electric affair. With Fu’s cultivation as it was he heard the conversation in entirety, choosing to ignore everything after the main point had been discussed.

Hushi conjured their [Ink], reminding themselves of something that in all truth, could not be forgotten easily.