[Ink] billowed into formation.

Yet Fu had not crossed.

The fragment - no, such treasures surely held importance and were deserving of proper titles - the [True Orchid Path] fragment, presented this information when lifted in proximity to the [Paifang].

When weighed against the map, it revealed more.

“Ten thousand apologies, senior. Lacking as we are, this presentation is guesswork,” said Pinxiu, kneeling on behalf of her distant juniors. “If this regretful disciple might?”

Fu exchanged the fragment.

“What scrolls were recovered and what documents and observations might support lends to the belief that we do not walk this [True Orchid Path]. That is represented by the line of matching colour bisecting this entire fragment.”

Some many connections from the brightest among all shown stars - Fu’s guess at their own position, this [Mystic Realm] - the orchid path cut.

“Here, within or along, reside the [Mystic Realms] of [Sixth Under Heaven’s] personal attention or proof of importance. Perhaps separate from the Marches we see here,” she explained. “That of red, orange, yellow, blue and then onto a singular mention of ‘green’. Policed and restricted realms with functions mandated by the classification of both colour and merit.”

With care, Fu traced the myriad paths with the end of his finger. “Those Imperials in the Four Corners Prefecture bore only orchid robes.”

And they were of the purest [Spring], unlike those that the [Hollow Ivory Splinter] has reaped from here.

“The path that bears the same colour, might we say that is their domain?” he continued.

Pinxiu bowed. “Senior Gao’s insight-”

“Respect comes in forms beside flattery, initiate,” hissed Su Sai, a mirror to his [Spirit Serpent] who affected the same noise. Strange then, he returned an absent stare into the middle distance.

Fu did not correct him.

“If we are to fish, is it not best to so in calmer waters?” suggested Udvah.

The council of five shared silent affirmation in varying fashions before Fu, solidifying the plan he held.

“This Fragment holds no words on where we have previously tread, no line to mark progress or visitation. A fool guesses, but might we only view a realm’s [Law of Origin] at the [Paifang’s] entry?”

As one, Pinxiu and her [Spirit Ants] - the colony beneath her robes - nodded. “That is our belief, senior.”

“I believe you all diligent, initiates. None but our Elders know all things,” he said, relaying what his own seniors might well say. “Is the path we have travelled marked?”

“Noted and studied during our brief stay, yes senior,” she replied.

When Fu dispensed his bow, the whispers grew loud. “Gratitude. The Fragment is best in your care, Wen Pinxiu, and my faith is well placed. Of this I am sure,” then his address moved to all. “As ghosts, we leave no trail. A death in this realm implicates us, despite the uncertainty that these Imperials are indeed aware of our presence. Irregularity in any domain casts eyes that we do not seek. Thus, we move, trusting that the shelter to recuperate lies beyond this [Paifang].

In red.

🀦

The [Paifang] spread all within a bustling city square, and welcomed an alarm of myriad shrieks.

“Vagrant cultivators!” came these unknown terms.

If only for their meaning here.

“Trespass!”

“Unenlightened!” Variations came, and fled, as a miasma of [Mist Qi] poured across the area. Shapes soon bulged beneath for discovery had reduced the initiates’ poor affectations of the [Clouded Ghost Arts] to that of irregular rainfall.

As droplets, in sporadic bursts.

Udvah corralled most in small gestures, vanishing the host within his [Dao of Sanctuary] to leave Fu, Sai and Anfang outwith the power. The lattermost continuing to confirm Fu’s suspicion that any fledgling disciple with a [Constellation Seed] held talent of some form.

Even if the connotations chimed arrogant in his head.

The mass disappearance drew silent relief as the remaining experts moved as ghosts ought to - even with their practice numbering as a sum of some mere passing of sunsets.

[Half Cloud Step].

A stone hewn pagoda.

A humble junction upon which many stairways stretched.

The second pagoda.

[Might] allowed his retinue to give chase, landing as Fu restrained the speed of his movement to that of only several dozen paces ahead. His [Senses] expanded, searching alongside Shuidi’s for the inevitable approach of trouble.

Flight rarely afforded the foresight to maintain a count of time, and so when these trespassers passed through a district of monastic temples and settled upon the bell tower there, no count had been done. Nor when they settled on its exterior, quieted beneath the shrewd gaze of the Adamant View and set themselves a-perch by its open iris, sensing the yellow as they made to call their fellow daoists to practice.

True daoists hold more power than the… March suggests? Or are there variations within these lands, not set by their classification of colours?

Upon the Fragment, this realm was marked as orange - as lesser - disparate from the well-spun robes Hushi could glean between the structure’s gaps, and the strength in this monk’s [Core].

A death however, left traces, and Fu soon moved his ghosts about the rooftops in flight. The feat proved little trouble for these structures held at the single story, perhaps adapted for the [Air Qi Abundance] this realm possessed, and the potentiality of gales that he could feel about him.

Lush and plentiful, if they might spare a moment in which he could cultivate.

Then, in hiding, there passed a span wherein an incense stick might ash. Two, arriving the interlopers at a quiet edge of this city. To a clouded depth that held no bottom, and the majesty of all that brought wonder to the skies beyond.

For there, in plenty, Warships roamed.

Nets were cast.

Shoals of a thousand-fold [Spirit Fish] night blotted out what sun escaped from an oceans of clouds os dense that Fu thought them unparalleled against the seas of all the lands he had travelled.

“[Karma] plays her games, no?” said Udvah, having Fu’s lips twitch.

Su Sai regarded the exchange mutely, but could not withhold his wonder for long. “Another wagon? I would not accept the suggestion to break a thing so treasured.”

A suggestion. Yes. To forget that he is no subordinate would be a trouble. But if these words hold meaning or warning they shall wait. The trivialities of station can rise when I hold time for it.

“Anfang, if you are able, ward brother Udvah as he maintains his [Dao of Sanctuary],” Fu then withdrew an item to fall within his palm, and paused. “A simple brooch, once worn by one you would name senior. Brother Udvah will tutor you on its use, we will have need of it shortly.”

“Gratitude, senior,” Anfang acknowledged, and the [Spirit Spider] within her tightly-bound hair affected its own bow. “I will strive to use it well.”

His rise had Su Sai snort. “It is said that carpenters measure twice and cut once. To lilt on a knee for mere minutes speaks of arrogance, and no heed paid. Are we to rush? What might any here have gleaned in so short a time?”

Fu could not gauge the man’s personality.

Not haughty, or sneering as spoiled scions were, and at times he had proved insightful. Gruff, perhaps, and anger-filled in delivery - though rarely wasted or cruel.

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He enjoys the rise that his comments might stoke. One that enjoys stirring the pot despite his tended appearance?

“My skill in numbers ever falls short, disciple Su, for these skies hold over three hundred vessels that I cannot count to the digits, nor might I share how many possess resemblance to-”

“[Five Conversions Levitation Array.] [Coiling Star Defensive Array]-”

“-or [Gravitational Negation Arrays], only that a spare dozen, those passing beneath the offensive variants of those larger Warships, now draw their news to mark passage home.”

With a pensive stroke of his forming stubble, Su Sai relented. “Ghosts see more than those with mere eyes, it seeds. Among the main Sect- hah. In light of this, it might be said that we are blinded by the very sun we face. How humorous.”

To punctuate, his [Spirit Serpent] hissed.

“Even so,” he continued. “I’ll accompany you. Arms are mightier than eyes where you are to walk.”

Shuidi did not bow as her cultivator did, clearly impressing her distaste.

🀦

It was a dock as any other, save that clouds lapped where tides might wash against the pier that extended there.

Reds toiled.

Fit, it seemed, for any and all manual labour, as they were given leave to work beneath the lax eyes of orange robed overseers. Lax, for they saw not the pillaging of several dozen [Spirit Fish] from the crates one ship below, nor the twin stowaways well masked behind.

Fu rose the silent vessel as it drew to a stop, entering a closed warehouse at the dock’s nearside. An interior thing, as he had gleaned before their sudden arrival on the passing warship, and stocked with many a similar ship.

At his side, Su Sai’s breath was loud. An effort fuelled affair given the ordeal those without a [Dao] of movements or similar [Art] might have held with Fu’s method of boarding.

Some mutter akin to [Air Affinity] cultivators and other curses passed his lips, if thankfully mouthed in respect of their location.

We require a discrete vessel, and one that might hold all our number. Those moored here are adequate, yet undesirable. The trouble lies in that we might make no second trip once our theft is complete.

A process began, and the well wearied reds moved to stand some few paces beyond the cover of crates to allow their senior to board.

“Bah. What lacking haul is this?” she snorted.

The reds maintained their silence, perhaps knowing that protest would bring further danger.

Wood groaned as one of the crates was unlidded. “This one holds far lower a count than is expected, and three crates are missing from the quota. I would sent you out again would you not embarrass this fishery further!”

Qi flared within the hold, of a searching sort.

Su Sai tensed, minorly.

The chain tightened in Fu’s grip.

“An irregularity in the [Levitation Array]. But no excuse. Indeed, my mind drifts towards notions of sabotage, for it is not above you base reds to attempt to escape duty!”

The vessel shunted then, as if gripped and nudged by some titanic, exterior force.

“Unload. But do not think yourselves free of suspicion!”

[Senses] told of the orange’s departure, then that of the red’s. A measurable quantity reflected in their [Cultivation Realm], for the labourers and their menial [Spirit Beasts] held no higher than middle [Foundation].

The orange, that of fledgling [Core Formation].

Something to be noted, if indeed all things are coordinated and classed by colour as has stood true thus far in their Empire.

Grunts followed as the rows began to move and the ghosts’ cover was slowly stripped back in sequential layers.

Sai moved in step with Fu, chasing as he blurred into crevices within the vessel’s main deck.

Fu’s eyes went to the warehouse’s eave - some middling distance of twenty strides high as a levitating craft’s height might afford - and set forth a silent question.

A shake returned.

Limiting. Where then, does his Qi impartment lie?

The vessel held a traditional bearing, made with mast and sail - though this held the fulcrum for converging [Arrays] where threadwork might hold together its mortal counterpart. It granted Fu small insight into positioning, and did not.

No fabric wafted above that might be furled to hide them, nor heavy ropes upon cleats that they might poise behind.

Inaction will doom us.

So saying, the red’s voices returned some paces distant, arriving to continue their work.

“Vessel One Thousand and Nine. Yes, yet this daoist knows no red might hold talent enough to disrupt such work. Not any done with these hands,” joined another, fresher voice, filled with haughty derision.

[Force Qi] burst from the voice’s source, manifesting in tethers of silver haze. These rid the ship of its cargo in a single stroke, shunting all to the dockside with same ease as one might flick their sleeve.

The [Dao] broke next.

A clouded expanse opened then, for the vessel’s deck shrunk and vanished beneath Fu’s feet. So followed the sails, railings and all that comprised it. Miniaturised to fit snug in this unknown’s palm as both ghosts were left to tread naught but open air.

“Thieves,” spat the orange.

A better association than the truth.

[Half Cloud Step].

Lengths of metal ensnared Su Sai’s flailing arm no later than Fu’s [Art] manifested. Swiftly, he rebounded from a conjured cloud of his own making, landing upon solid ground.

And Sai, if shamefully, was hauled as a mortal fish might be.

The orange afforded no pause, streaming forth with a [Spirit Hound] aside her to meet Sai’s [Spirit Serpent] in a clash.

“I’d expect a blow like this from a whore’s daughter. Is this the case?”

Fu spared a half breath to wonder on the need

of such a comment, and from the sun-facing Sect no less. Not a thing he had expected from Sai, truly.

But he blurred by, priming his blade for the [Dao] use-

Only for the [Old One’s Whisker] to thrum.

Intert [Array] flags flared at his target’s behest - a scholarly yellow of bulbous build - and these pushed a frightening resonance through all that were moored about them. From here, across all corners of this stocked warehouse.

His [Core] tightened in the presence of mounting [Earth Qi], and the swollen mandalas that blossomed to show the source of their building power. Offensive armaments, for how else would these fishermen suppress beasts of [Air]?

Great harpoons of sand blew by, narrowly dodged as they cracked, and thereafter, scattered after impacting the warehouse’s inner structure.

Ten flew. Twenty.

More.

Though deft in reaction, the sheer quantity suppressed Fu to such an extent that he could do nothing but bend from the glowing mandalas that birthed them aside every hull in sight.

Shuidi. Hushi.

His partners vanished into distant winds, and he leapt to the clouds below.

Fu snapped his hook out, imbuing the [Dao of Crushing] to suffuse his metal and secure a hold on these imperious vessels’ undersides, and swing.

The [Arrays] followed, raining sand upon the vessel above. Thus he looped, inverted and threaded needles wherein each grain was an edge to be avoided and each empty space was the narrow eye he so sought.

Distant, the scholar of boats fled behind a wake of orange robes and fresh beasts, readied and Qi-primed much as their cultivator’s weapons were.

A count of near ten, if his acrobatics might grant an adequate position with which to measure from.

An eruption suddenly threw all ships adrift, clashing hull upon hull and bathing a polluted wave of Qi across one half of the grand warehouse.

The second followed, closer now, and Fu shared silent thanks to his stalwart partners.

Old ONe, we are ever humbled by your insight.

No reply came.

Fu’s attention flicked to Sai, who shaped well the talents of their prestigious Sect. He dominated without [Art] or-

Technique.

A dimly lit corona of red pulsed at the downstrike of Sai’s meteoric hammer, and gave Fu cause to wonder if his newfound mastery of the [Clouded Ghost Arts] downplayed the Qi released there.

Putting such concerns for later, he called upon his [Dao of Wayward Breezes].

His arrival set him a stride behind the scholar of boats, where this chain snared the man’s ankles.

[Force Qi] thrust it free, but this was a stumble. A maddened push that broke against Fu’s poised form and superior [Control]. [Half Cloud Step] billowed his blade to plunge through one set of knuckles, and anchor the man to the floorboards below.

The miniaturised ship toppled, skirting further into the small workshop - or the mouth of which they had now arrived.

A cluttered affair, save for a handful of cleared desks. For there, an armada was presented, mounted on instruments atop each.

“Beyond mere thieves. The yellows will save you for this. You, and nine generations of your worthless, red heritage.”

Two explosions washed pressure atop them, thinning the man’s venomous look.

Swiftly drawing from his ring, Fu’s [Hundred Poisons Synthesis] oiled the Loosened Tongue Draught over his victim’s face. “I would have you use that [Dao], cultivator. That which shrinks ships: so too must it enlarge, no?”

A writhing turn, a spray of spittle on Fu’s robes, curses… but amidst it.

The scholar of boat’s eyes had flocked to a pendant loosed by his desperate acts, and his protest grew as Fu snapped it free from around his neck.

“A-a bauble, you dare touch my family crest!”

Impressions of the [Array] and similar [Dao] interwoven in the simple metal trinket spoke differently.

“Speak on its limitations. How might I share these-”

Glee crested the scholar’s face.

Yet Fu obliterated the belligerently loud [Spirit Serpent] that had just pounced, connecting a swift kick from the [Wind Phantom Strides] through it.

Fatigue weighs on me if I cannot control my [Might] against those on the Path of [Spirit].

His self-admonishment continued as he stripped this scholar bare, and reaped all he could from the surroundings.

The pause came at the first vessel. To use a common man’s sense, no flying warship could be contained within a mere ring.

In their current state, at this scale…

Fu placed Niwai’s spatial ring atop his index, drawn from the tie where Shuidi oft rested.

[Spatial Qi] and its intricacies were an unknown quantity, ending at the wisdom most disciples had drilled into them- though Yunhan’s lessons were more a gentle warning - a spatial cannot be stored within another.

What then, did this mean for Warships?

At least my own ring will not be put at risk.

So saying, he engulfed each vessel there, watching these new hopes vanish without trouble.

Sai met him in the following breaths, pristine and severe. Tall in the doorframe. A stride later and his hammer crumpled the now crippled scholar’s skull. “Ghosts leave no trace, is this not the way of it?”

“If they do, it is not to lead where they will soon tread. Come, if you will, and let us confuse matters further.”