The Clouded Court Squad’s [Defensive Array] was a subtle thing. It did not tower as [Venerable Reed Sage’s] had, and were Fu not possessed of the abilities he held it would have remained unnoticed.

With door ajar, and its framework half-crumpled, the structure itself offered little in the way of confidence. Just one of an ashen skyline, where linger flames flickered and dust roved upon the breeze like prowling beasts. But the [Array] maintained.

Fostering hope, as no ghost was ever as they seemed.

The hour was far into this assault’s second morning, lending to the Cloud Gathering division’s weariness on approach. Fu had begun to tire of the constant warmth upon his [Ink], and his ever-thinning resolve to tread between danger and opportunity.

It read thus.

Cultivators in crimson hanfu patrolled the avenue ahead. Sun-facing cousins whose attention faced more skyward than to those who neared.

“Care is abandoned then,” said Zhu. “It’s a dire showing that they walk openly before our halls.”

“This Linhua would offer that few outsiders remain here to make any connections.”

Zhu parsed his lips, accepting the observation.

Expecting a disturbance of [Air Qi] to arrive at his throat, Fu slowed his gait. Hushi was similarly on edge, Their robes were filthy, bearing no association to the Clouded Courts, and he was uncertain if the Elder’s favour could be gleaned by those not of the same branch.

To survive all they had to be spurned at the door-

“I see you, juniors,” called the first, a young woman of leaf-green hair and oversized qiang. “Come, that you might breathe for a moment.”

Zhu pushed a resonance through his brooch, having Fu turn to glimpse where his eyes landed. To the ruins, and to movement that instinct told he was permitted to catch.

[Smoke Qi] wisped upon the hide of a stalking [Spirit Wolf], lime eyes aglow even in the oppressive daylight.

“A loud approach,” the first continued, breaking from her fellows. “Most things are loud now, no?”

Each there lowered in greeting. “Senior,” clasped Fu. “Forgive our haste, but these disciples seek entry.”

“Haste spoils most views, junior. Be at peace, a runner was dispatched at your approach. Entry will be permitted soon, if your presence is desired below.” Her words ceased, and once more she looked to the warring Heavens. “Behold the pinnacle as you wait, juniors. Few sights might rival it.”

“The wisdom is appreciated, senior.”

The woman received the comment with a firm nod, and returned to her fellows.

Fu could not miss the pristine cloth upon them. The unblemished gestalt and rigidity of stance.

To be as they are. Yuqi, Yuling and Feng would know no trouble.

A grunt set his eyes Heavenward, Zhu’s suggestion clear.

He had placed few looks there during their flight. Such sights offered little but worry. In the shade of his Sect, he mused this may be different.

[Sixth Under Heaven’s] dominion of the skies drew priority- how the [Spirit Bamboo], eight in number, cast a great, glittering canopy across the Four Corners Prefecture. An insidious growth that reached ever further to intersect a sky of golden leaves.

HIs position remained whence he had first emerged. The same was true for the Cloudy Serpent Sect’s twinned Mistresses.

Titanic serpents moved in their stead, encircling each [Spirit Bamboo] to deliver a catastrophe of fangs, lashes and blows.

Fu’s lack of insight was humbling, or so he mused. For there the fisherman saw mere mortal affectations. No apocalyptic Qi, nor Heaven-swallowing [Dao] as immortals toyed with.

“My guesses are shameful, and I hold no desire to dishonour the venerable Mistresses with what my lacking eyes see,” he said. “However, it seems they have yet to begin.”

Udvah shared this view. “Amituofo. What are days to those not plagued by time? This penniless seeker knows immortals to take leisure in such things. The necessity of all below are inconsequential.”

To see how bereft of life the Four Corners Prefecture now stood spoke well of an immortal’s priorities.

“My adolescence was filled with tales of these two. The peak of [True King Realm],” said Zhu. “No [True Saint Realm] as the plum axe is. This Sixth’s strength might scale above that. Cultivation takes on a different form once immortality is reached. It’s- Gao Fu always mutters about Heavens beyond Heavens. Perhaps they’ve not acted as they cannot.”

The Cloud Gathering Division inched back from their comrade.

“One that walks by the river should not complain of wet feet,” cautioned Fu, subtle in his gesture to the nearby cultivators.

“Wise words, junior,” nodded the woman, far from mortal earshot.

Fu grew rigid.

What occurred above still held her attention as she spoke. “Surely our outer disciples are tired, yes? Otherwise no mistaken words would leave their lips,” she smiled, lifting an eye from the scene.

“This Yin Linhua offers her gratitude for the senior’s understanding. We of the Cloud Gathering division are humbled.”

This was a boldness Fu took note of.

“Four members of the Cloud Gathering? The favoured two were plain to see, but I grow curious juniors. Are all among you of such fledgling [Realm]?”

This is no place for casual conversation. Where is their caution?

A more demure jian-wielder tutted her comrade. “Sister, our duties do not include bothering the younger generations.”

The first shared a wry smile. “Speaking with one’s juniors is no chore,” she returned, tilting her spear so it gestured into the distance. “I speak only to share this opportunity. So you might stare into the dangerous wind and see where these myriad Paths converge.”

“Sister,” cut the second.

Bemused, Fu’s instincts bid him bow for long moments.

Indeed the war’s circumference was aflood with chaos, no more winnowed than their first arrival. Immortals yet strove against their Imperial matches, revealing no clear victor if gaps in the Qi-borne miasma were an indication.

Linhua and her Fuzhi treated in silent conversation, drawing Zhu’s eye.

An impatience tinged his words. “Ask. Else you only waste time.”

“A-a thousand apologies. The senior’s lesson is beyond understanding,” she frowned.

Fu’s [Senses] were no miracle, but he strained towards the chaos nonetheless. “Myriad Paths clash above. The peak of each, and those we might follow should fate conspire to have it so. Few and far between are the chances to witness such monstrosity.”

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Were all things not a looming cloud, he might gain his own insight.

“Gratitude, senior,” she said, Fuzhi slithering higher to glean what he could. Her posture half-slackened in a short span of breaths. “The distance is too vast.”

The [Air Qi] did not shift when the next ghost arrived. A hollowed cultivator of the same ilk that [Of Perennial Shade] fielded, or Master Ban’s errand takers.

“Enter,” suggested their movement, for they traded no words, and Fu followed.

🀦

Master Jiahao was upon his post, a grim joy held there. Missives flew, offered, read, scored with a brush that seemed unceasing to then be withdrawn by ghosts that swiftly vanished.

Myriad reports that lent to the odd mood Fu could observe.

Some few strides into the Clouded Court’s unmolested underbelly, an aide waylaid the party with a sharp beckon. He was scholarly, as most were, and draped in a comfort of several [Spirit Serpents].

“Cloud Gathering,” he greeted. “Numbering less than whence you made for the tournament. Name your fallen.”

As leader, Fu did so. “Sister Niwai and Brother Zhao Po.”

The expression of one that had rehearsed receiving such news laced the aide’s features as he scrawled this change upon parchment. “Master Ban holds your direction, even with wartime exemption in place. As such, disciples, the aid we might offer is sparse. [Life Qi] cultivators and our doctors accompany those on duties of higher stakes- all that remains are pills and herbs.”

Surprised, Fu bowed his head. “Gratitude, senior. These disciples had no expectation of aid.”

“As stated, it is a sparse thing,” he returned, and snapped his fingers.

A second hollow cultivator emerged at a kneel, proffering four vials of varying [Rejuvenation Pills]. So said the [Old One’s Whisker] at a glance. Talismans were extended next, and a spatial pouch that may well contain the mentioned herbs.

No sparse thing, this. The Cloudy Serpent Sect’s wealth is boundless, if these are offered to those of our station and [Realm].

Fu distributed these, nodding as the hollow cultivator vanished. “Senior, this disciple would trouble you for direction. We seek the initiates, and know little of the war’s extent. Are the potentials still housed within these walls?”

“The [Spring] intake proved to be talented, progressing to the trial’s second stage.”

“Further gratitude, senior,” said Fu, knowing well his meaning.

An arresting palm rose stalled his departure. “Stay your feet, disciple, caution is urged. The Empire of Abundant Spring have penetrated the lower depths. Roots of [Sixth Under Heaven’s] demonic bamboo have breached much.”

The Heavens no doubt laughed once more.

“Is this the harvesting [Array], or their forces?” queried Zhu, though his address seemed ill directed, as if focus was elsewhere.

“Harvesting? I do not know where the junior finds such information, for few are privy to this. Speak no more on it,” he warned. Four sets of serpentine eyes shifted to scrutiny before the aide changed demeanour. “The lower network, and that comprising our initiate training passages are breached by roots, thus inviting invaders to roam our halls. Squad Leader Gao Fu would be wise to coordinate with those among our disciples that are tasked there.”

Fu bowed respectfully. “This disciple extends gratitude for the guidance. We will take our leave, unless more is required of us.”

The aide waved their dismissal, allowing the division to move further into the passages. A brisk walk over fleet departure as they would take what respite they could.

“Replenish yourselves if you can,” instructed Fu. “While treasures each, these pills do no good within our rings.” So saying, he drew one forth and swallowed it to begin the process. Warmth suffused his [Core] as gentle heat spread from gullet to stomach, absorbing the abundant Qi within.

All copied the gesture.

“I’ve a strange pride welling in my gut,” said Zhu, breaking the silence after a great deal of strides.

Udvah spread a wide grin. “Amituofo, this disciple is pleased that Zhu also extended his ear. Both might now be culled for treason.”

An expansion of his [Senses] would do little here, among those versed in the [Clouded Ghost Arts], but Fu grew curious. “Sister Linhua,” he offered.

Her soundless [Art] encompassed the group.

“Our Clouded Courts turn misfortune into favour,” nodded Zhu, a rare hint of admiration in his voice. “If I’d a care for manipulation I might follow suit. It seems that the chaos has rid the Cloudy Serpent Sect of myriad problems.”

“Amituofo. Tall trees attract lightning, and so many bolts fall this day that subtle flashes go unnoticed,” the Vajra mused.

“Would our Master be counted among such flashes, I wonder?” Linhua asked. “Or do other duties require his attention? He needs no prayer from me, but I hope he goes untroubled.”

Fu parsed his lips.

The same pride rose to have him conflicted.

His vocation was not righteous. No call had come to ward harm from refugees or slaughter those that dared strike cowering civilians. Indeed, all he had spied during this invasion spoke of lacking concern towards these peoples.

Much the same as his own.

Did I think myself selfless?

Hushi impressed an image in perfect clarity, one of a dumpling laden table and those arrayed around it.

Long’s words on arrogance and greed ring ever the more true.

Words had passed as he quietly reflected, and he returned to conversation as the Clouded Court’s own boundary [Array] neared.

Tanshuai had crested his brim without notice.

“A moment,” he spoke, drawing a near instant silence. “Zhu, I would have you find the initiate Master Ban seeks. We have no word that her situation has changed, though we must prepare for the worst. Her recovery is the priority, whether hale or crippled. By the Imperial forces, or by our own hand.”

Not a flicker passed over his comrades’ eyes.

Fu nodded.

🀦

So deep were their passages that the crumpled ceiling spared no light, only comforting gloom in which they might lurk.

It was queer that the titanic roots did not shine.

Fu blurred through shattered walls. Quarters where vast horizontal growths from the bamboo breached stone, corner, joint and doorway to lay wide the expansive underground. A route that made each connecting passage redundant.

A spectre, Hushi stalked nearby.

The dark embraced each as a blanket, shrouding their step until they met the crumpled edge of their destination.

A third visit changes all.

An initiate’s second trial was the prison below, ruined as all things were. Cursed by myriad roots and a sight to have Fu suck in cold air.

He recalled the inlay upon the taller blade’s orchid hanfu. Patterned to match her station, if empty in one half of the fabric.

What omen a two-thirds pattern entailed-

[Spatial Qi] gushed in the prison’s center, clear enough for the blind to see. An arch of petals blared there, yawning with orchid light to serve as entry for the hundreds of Imperials that spewed forth.

Fu’s heart froze further then, descending from frigid to glacial as a whisper caressed his ears.

“Another drop enters this sea of troubles,” it came. “Or do our goals align, favoured Gao Fu?”

Untraceable [Mental Qi] brushed him further, and he knew this to enable his response. “We seek an initiate, senior. Forgiveness, if the Cloud Gathering division impedes what fate you hold in store for these trespassers.”

“Hmm,” the voice mused. “Address me as Meng Ai, little brother. Courtesy holds small use in the dark. The initiates you seek lie beyond these thousand blades, hidden beneath a rockfall of our making.”

“Gratitude,” thought Fu.

“Oho, Gao Fu is bold. A likeable quality. But boldness alone will not see you across here. Align yourself to our duties and this victory may come swifter.”

It was curious that an inner disciple would ask a thing. Demands were commonplace, and expectations.

“What would brother Meng have us do?”

“Merely add your blades to our own, little brother. The sun-facing Sect are soon to arrive, and we would not have them fall before their own duties are complete.” Faint inscriptions surfaced upon the most swollen roots below, one that penetrated east to west through the prison’s domain. “Alchemists and [Array] masters are to disable what befoulment that is sure to enact. Let us see them unscathed, no?”

A brow rose unbidden on Fu’s face. Not several hundred strides previous had he reflected on selfish-

Fatigue had sunk its insidious roots in him, having his thoughts suffer.

This day weighs. I must return to clarity.

“Brother Meng may direct as needed, if we of the Cloud Gathering can provide any aid then it is offered freely,” he thought.

“And gladly taken,” said Meng. “Come, Gao Fu, and we shall show these black-hearted dogs what it is to walk where ghosts tread.”

The connection severed.

Tanshuai swiftly arrived at the bridge of Fu’s nose, gesturing in the affirmative to spare any need to confirm these news goals were heard.

Fu withdrew his chain.

Golden light suddenly illuminated the cavern, pulsing once to scour the landscape of any darkness.

His grip tightened.

As fleeting as thunder, the inky-blackness then returned.

One hundred strides and the gold returned, pulsing from an abundance of characters that sprouted across the root’s length.

Darkness.

Ninety nine Strides.

Gold.

Fu drew confidence that Meng Ai and what forces he mustered went unseen, for the prison’s surfaced was unblemished by anything but tides of orchid robes.

Painfully, the [Old One’s Whisker] assailed his temples, imminently ignorable despite the message delivered.

One a fool might glean.

[Sixth Under Heaven’s] harvesting [Array] was firmly embedded, and now drew to life with every passing breath.