The White Blossom Peach swayed from Sun Danpi, bobbing on waves of his making. Ever out of reach.

But he was a diligent soul, and dedicated to this cause.

Night would come, his Peach would bob, and he would show the serene waters that he alone was worthy of it beneath the Heavens.

“You are my Dragon Gate!” he would exclaim, and the Peach would jiggle in childish laughter, raising the ire of this mighty creature.

First he thrashed, and it would not come.

Second he demanded his supplicant, the Eastern Wind, to deliver it hence. But still it would not come, and his ire grew further.

Third, and last, Sun Danpi poured his Qi into the waters to have them steam, and in his rage brought ruin to the pond.

Where he gasped, and floundered on scorched and muddied ground. Seeing his Peach to be the Immortal Moon.

And he, but a fish.

- “Parables of the Dao,” - by an Unnumbered Storyteller.

Tatters of Blight grasped at Fu’s legs as he flipped back from the verdant wall, and the ceiling of fog gave chase until the Heavens sucked him down. All within his vision streamed by in lines of colour, most the same green he had come to know, and all else a shade of sky-blue.

A fresh shade to add to the combat’s palette.

Fu caught himself on a passing vine, and his shredded skin did not thank him for it. Calloused, torn, and raw, his palms were subjected to further torment as he swung a full rotation to mount it.

One breath, and he leapt again.

The vine he was upon snapped at his release, but it was spurred by a greater weight than just this.

For a true [Demon] sought his end.

Myriad snaps released in broken tension, and these horizontal cords cascaded around the falling fisherman as though snakes now fell from the skies. Which would have proved fateful, or preferred, amidst the rain of [Spirit Spiders].

Webs broke from their spinnerets in the hundreds, yet not one found any purchase upon the sky-blue [Spirit Ape]. It evoked thoughts of Thousand Shore City’s destruction, and the sheer scale of the serpent that had brought it about.

Almost, for it was only a late [Core Formation Realm] beast, or so cried the voices.

A beast upon that unknown spectrum that lay between Cheng Rao and any of the cultivators around him.

Fu landed atop a tower, and Hushi jetted to his side where they both stole a glance over the battle at large. “There will be no [Array] to reach if this ape continues as she does,” he mused, drawn to the spray of demolished structures below. Toppled towers, crumbled walls, and craters of impact birthed from this creature’s mere movements.

It had come not one hour ago as a fell shadow, arriving through the ceiling of Blight to batter into the Bastion’s center. No doubt drawn by the litany of corpses and the stench given rise by [Summer’s] heat.

He sucked in a breath to steady a slight tremble in his arm. “We have reached as high as we may go,” he said, and leapt from the edge before reason might dissuade him from his course.

A count of legs blurred by the tower’s facade, leaving the [Spirit Spiders] that would pursue him, behind, and he rushed ever downwards to meet his comrades. The [Dao of Reach] came swift, and likewise drew swiftly from his mental reserves, extending the sorry chain in his hand to catch upon a standing vine and deliver him to the main fray.

There was a rounding of weapons and gnashing of teeth at his sudden arrival, where cultivators and Bonds alike rushed to fell what they thought to be foe.

An awareness of cold spilled upon Fu’s throat, and he became aware of the jian’s edge levelled there. “A junior,” said its owner, a younger cultivator with an indigo serpent coiled around his wrist.

Fu touched the shallow cut, and half-bowed as the cultivators paid him no more heed, turning to face their enemies. A Heaven-defying crunch resounded across this new arena, however, and gave most pause.

The [Spirit Ape] clung loose on a higher pavillion to their rears, a tower opened to the skies above, and he bellowed out in challenge. Force ravaged out from his cry, and tides of dust swept forth, all consuming from this great height.

A procession of cultivators stretched from Fu across an open thoroughfare, some once ornate stage that held the staircase to the Bastion’s final level at its belt. Glimpses of railings and moulded tapestry flew beneath the dust, stripped of the suffocating growth atop it only to be replaced by this cloud-bearing cry.

And then it dropped, in no grace befitting a beast of its station. Brutish and towering, the [Spirit Ape] crunched deep into the stone, drawing the tower with it as easily as a mortal might a broom.

“Amituofo. A sure talent in the [Dao of Gusts],” remarked Adhrit.

With an effort to mute the shock at his companion’s appearance, Fu garbled out a cough in place of words.

“Brother Fu is surprised to see this penniless seeker?” This question held none of the teasing of Long, and as he was regarded, Adhrit only stared. A fixation over Fu’s shoulder drawing him, perhaps, and enough to show concern.

“In truth, I am surprised that I stand here myself.”

Adhrit swept by before the comment had finished, casting a fitting impression of the senior that led them. Lilac then moved by him in turn, and his [Spirit Fox] was seen to prowl with no small burden of Qi about its fur.

Engorging, to a beast of four great legs and two tails, no longer something that might fit upon his roughspun lap. She pitched out a bark, and Fu heard it to be a prideful thing, or confident in how its [Affinity] soon showed.

A spiral apparition in lilac hue that severed the limbs of no less than eight lesser [Spirit Spiders] as they scuttled from wall to floor twenty strides distant.

What manner of Qi is that? Air, without the breeze?

These thoughts came amidst the casting of his chain, [Dao] infused, and a singular throb in his temples that warned of dwindling mental reserves. A precise lift and angle, honed in this thousandth of repetition.

Having the [Ink] upon his arm come to boil.

But Fu would not cast his eyes upon the teal script when oppressed by so many, and so sealed the daylight by Adhrit’s back to have them tight in formation. “Do the Boundless [Dao] offer wisdom in our next move, brother Adhrit?”

“The Boundless [Dao] are wisdom,” came the reply. “Such offers are for the worthy, but this penniless seeker would grant a saying in its stead. The best of plans are as water.”

A common phrase to Fu, who hid the frustration at its appearance. Wisdoms of this stock would not forestall the [Spirit Ape’s] rampage, and it was a nearing force, almost upon the staircase that Cheng Rao now climbed.

“Then might we move as it does, and gather drops to form the tide?” asked Fu, though he waited for no answer with the knowledge that Adhrit was sure to follow. “To sister Xianyi, and to brother Long.”

The cultivators moved with a rhythm forged of practice, and their Bonds moved with the same interconnected strides. Hushi and the [Spirit Fox] proved a well-matched pairing in managing the range of spiders that poured upon them like [Spring] rain, and Fu could not help but regard the fluidity of their dance.

His octopus would jet and constrict, but where grappling foes was his normal fare, it was replaced with throws and leverage. Splayed, lashing, teal arms to corral and persuade the foes in the path of Adhrit’s Bond, and the Qi it brought to bear.

Fu almost opened his mouth to remark, once more forgetting himself.

His Bond was not as this in the canyon ascent, perhaps Brother Adhrit has opened a fresh [Meridian].

It had become clear that their enemies had not lessened, despite the litter of corpses behind. The Cloudy Serpents, and the Cloudy Shadows, still clashed, holding the same fervour against the [Spirit Spiders] as they had before, and appeared as a constellation of broken points across the thoroughfare.

It was no longer limited to the dome of protection around Cheng Rao, for the sheer tide of numbers prevented such a thing. Cultivators faced handfuls of the beasts each, presenting great trouble for Fu as he searched for the ashen trails of sister Xianyi.

Experts were as common as clouds, and there was little distinction between her [Ash Qi], and [Smoke], or darkened [Snow].

A disheartening came after some untold span of minutes, striking when Fu and Adhrit had covered half of the distance to the staircase’s base. The tumultuous bellow of the [Spirit Ape’s] [Dao of Gusts], and its advance.

Done with the worthless dust about it, the insignificant spiders were thrown back as a sudden downpour. It then levelled its fist to beat upon one side of its chest. Proud, and challenging, and with a violent [Intent] that flocked over the stone.

Intended however, for one behind.

Spiders and cultivators alike froze in commonality, and spied then the shattering of stone from below their feet. A quake to push destruction through the remaining structures, and an imposition in the midst of the battle proper.

What came forth was seen in eight titanic and foul limbs, and in the blaze of a poisonous fire that enveloped each.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Fu cursed as this new, colossal [Spirit Spider] blew through the ruination of its wake, and flashed with peerless speed to mount upon the great ape’s chest.

“Brother Fu,” called Adhrit, his concern evident. “Is something amiss?”

And the fisherman paused then, considering a new life in pursuit of the [Dao]. For if it provided such calm as this, in the face of that, it was truly a worthwhile consideration. “It has been said that the Heavens do enjoy their jokes.”

“This penniless seeker has yet to ponder the [Dao of Laughter].”

“Then you might look upon the [Spirit Spider], brother, and find meaning in who stands upon its back,” he returned, lifting his eyes from the not-so-distant Long, and the golden light that had just rid this beast of one leg.

🀧

In thirty strides, Fu and Adhrit arrived at the staircase’s base, and found the corpses of spiders to be rolling down its slope in the form of some sickening avalanche. This short distance had rid both men of their Qi, their mental energy, and caused much of their remaining strength to flee.

The appearance of this titanic [Spirit Spider] was a rallying banner to its lesser kin, and now they truly swarmed. Not in individual strikes, or in small concert, but in an array of scuttling limbs that sought nothing more than to defend this ruler from further harm.

For his part, Fu leapt from back to back, taking solace in how no attention was spared to have limbs strike his way, or none of the strangely impotent [Poison Qi] claimed any part of his flesh or blood.

It was an expenditure of effort that only he and the Cloudy Shadow cultivators shared, as the stampede proved truly linear in strategy.

Maddened by the assault behind, these spiders seemed blind to the surrounding Bonds, or the arrival of jian and axe, qiang and myriad others in the hands of the experts that felled them in passing.

Fu looped his chain about the left side of his mount, pulling tight to have it careen into two others and topple each from the stairs. Plummeting down to the Bastion’s entrance.

“Hushi,” he called, and his octopus was shown to work in similar fashion, tearing from sockets whereas Fu could only guide. “Take care not to go below!” At this cry he leapt, inverted from the beast to crash his foot into another, causing the same reaction of descending spiders.

His Bond impressed caution in return, more aimed at the clashing titans to the rear than this rush of limbs and bodies.

Both [Spirit Spider] and [Spirit Ape] were well bloodied now, and Long had since fled his perch at centre stage. Fu narrowed at this, continuing to move with a view of reaching the unmolested space ahead where his comrades laid ready siege to the beasts’ rears.

An almighty crash broke not five heartbeats after his arrival, and whether from the passing shockwave or some surge in the spider’s activity, he stumbled to the stone beneath descending blades.

Gripped then, by a hoisting arm. “Shameless!” cried Long, aghast in his expression. “You’ve taken to sleep while your comrades go on ceaselessly! Don’t think I won’t make you kowtow as apology!” Gold raced along the edge of his jian, thick with Qi, and it now wagged more as a teaching implement than the death-dealer it was.

Fu found himself joyful from the half-smile that formed on his comrade, and the same sense was granted through Hushi. “Perhaps brother Long’s heroics have blinded him,” he returned. “I was merely telling the stone it was unworthy for you to walk upon.”

“A tongue on my brother! Why you’d have no for need for fishing hooks with one so sharp and swift.” The pair rounded then, in time to see the shift of spiders, and how eerily they now stilled.

A sea of multi-faceted eyes, sorrowful as their titanic mistress lilted in her steps.

“The [Green Phantom Empress], and her children,” continued Long. “I don’t think she looked upon my exploration with favour.”

A silence rose where before the thundering of their foes’ passage had reached near deafening heights. Next, an agonal chitter, and a further sway of the accursed spider. It could no longer bear weight on the legs beneath it, slipping upon stone and ivy to bring her crashing into a heap.

Unmoving.

Yet a corona of flame blazed at her rear like the coming of dawn, stealing the majesty this creature might share in its death. She was engulfed, and withered beneath a heat that Fu felt upon his face even from such a distance as was between them.

“[Sun Qi],” he said, with no small pang of nostalgia. Something cold was pressed into his grip, and the weight had his injured arm sag.

“For lecturing the ground on my behalf,” said Long, though three acts conspired there to prohibit Fu’s questions.

The scraping of chitinous legs turned the [Spirit Spiders] about, primed then to rush the staircase and each cultivator that held there. A Heaven-defying blaze that emerged in four sets of five claws, consuming the rearmost as Manying and her colossal bear made their presence known with a chorus of primal roars.

And the call of one senior that had reached the [Array] above. “This daoist spies a third beast that desires harm befall the venerable Cloudy Serpent Sect.”

Truly? Does Cheng Rao speak so openly on her death?

Hushi passed along his confusion, and Fu could do naught but grimace. Sweat, either born of nerves or this oppressive heat had him shift his hands to better grip the weapon placed there.

But mandibles stole any chance for inspection. Fu sprung back, unfurling the chain to… to slice?

A spray of vile blood and gelatinous chunks decorated the air as a keen crescent blade lashed up in place of the head he had expected. [Might] returned it to his palm hastily, where he cast again, and again. Growing bolder as he compensated, and acclimatised to this marvel of bloodshed.

A slim thing, and light as air. It… reassures me to have a weapon once more. An oddity to feel this way indeed.

He could not recall a time in recent weeks where he had felt so solid. Pondering then, in spare seconds, that this may be his wall. Perhaps, in place of Long, Fu might stand-

The swarm would not wait for such rumination, thus he called Hushi forth, and the [Wind Phantom Strides] began in earnest.

He saw in that moment just how it had gained such a name, for his Bond blurred in streams of [Air Qi]. A vision in teal that conjured a sight of not one form, but of a vengeful cloud, riding the current birthed in the passing of Fu’s chain.

Wide arcs that flew as a horizontal force, helical tunnels, and more, and upon them, these swells of air, Hushi’s speed was amplified twofold.

With the loss of their Empress the [Spirit Spiders] raged, incensed to pour as a blanket over their individual strikes, and ambushing nature. Having the Cloudy Serpents, and in smaller number, the Shadows, rejoice in such simplicity.

Because their impact was now marked, and their culling clear.

Such was the nature of the [Wind Phantom Strides] that Fu was ill-suited for such stationary slaughter, and with Hushi at his fore, they revelled in their movements. Leaps and bounds, inverted and twisted, hastening their passage across the battlefield to have them arrive near the crest of the staircase itself.

Half-nauseated for a lack of practice with recently raised attributes and the sheer, bolstering fluidity of this new chain.

As both stole a deserved breath, Cheng Rao’s solemn form became apparent. Statuesque and intent on a runic splay of characters that shone in the air about him. Open air, as most pavillions within the Bastions were, where the crumbled and erstwhile stately surroundings gave way to an unmolested view of [Green Blight Valley].

Unease paved its way up Fu’s spine in knowing that he should not be so close. Though even at twenty strides distance, he was not alone in cultivators.

“Black bellied demon!” announced a voice that could only be Manying.

Those Fu could observe above each heave of his chest bore arms immediately, and the [Intent] that radiated from the approaching Burning Leviathan crashed down as they did. A force of suffocation, not unlike Fu’s [Dao], yet a scorch where his was the absence of air.

Moisture fled, and flocked to darkened places so it might avoid what came. Fu too, entered darkness, his head clashing against stone when both legs fell beneath him. It was a sudden thing, where strength faded and the air grew magmic in temperature to have most about him fall.

But his concern was the sun beyond his vision.

A flaming beacon that closed beneath the heavy padding of paws. “Honorless bastard! To hide your cultivation, and to cast my Sect aside!” roared Manying. “You are courting death, Serpent!”

Fu could feel his lungs charring, withering as though they lay bare upon some desert sands, and aside Hushi impressed the same. A tangle of teal, a finger length away, and at a proximity that only magnified the growing torment.

The saving grace showed in the measure of his pitiful state, for Manying passed by, and the [Spirit Bear] disregarded him wholly. Moving instead to Cheng Rao, whose silence was unnerving and rare.

This allowed a single, heated gasp to enter Fu’s lungs, and such pain as he had scarcely known accompanied his rise.

My senior… he holds my safety. The safety of my family.

Warring thoughts, truly, for Cheng Rao held no fondness for him. Nor the Gao clan. Even their name was below his notice. But it did not dissuade Fu from struggling to his feet. Adding his chain to the strikes of the [Formation Realm] cultivators ahead.

Hazy shapes.

Blurring forms.

All perceived through dried eyeballs and waning vision. Flame, the only absolute.

And the Heavens shared their heat, for it blazed along Fu’s weapon the moment it grew taught. Further pain, then, as he roared through a blistered throat, and more as Manying ripped him through the air. Greeting his face with the back of her hand, which struck as though it were a mountain.

Fu rolled across the pavilion, his jaw broken, and thankful of the mercy shown. That this was all that had befallen him, and that the gracious cultivator would elect to have him slowly wither beneath her heat over receiving her personal attention.

Not… here. Not yet.

With another gasp, Fu toiled to rise on all fours. His hand able to pull the chain closer into his grip, and lash out once more.

Birthing a maelstrom of unfathomable power. A storm of light in spectral, concentric rings, bathing the pavilion in the purest white. To his utter shock, he felt it resonate within him, and he knew not whether to laugh or cry.

Some distant chorus resounded amidst a force of Qi so profoundly strong that it outstripped the meagre showing by Manying, who now roared in deeper rage.

“The [Array] will not stay my due justice! It is but a hair from nine oxen!” came her bestial, enraged tone. “All of the Cloudy Serpent Sect will know shame for their actions here! Now, die your dog’s death.”

“This daoist takes pity on those who have eyes but cannot see, for the venerable Cloudy Serpent Sect holds no shame. It transcends the Heavens themselves. But this daoist might hold it, for he is flawed beneath the righteousness of his betters. Thus, he will strive to educate you.”

Cheng Rao cut a hazy silhouette ahead, and amidst the thrumming, absolute light granted by the [Array], Fu made out only he and Manying.

And then only Cheng Rao.

As the latter was cast aside as one might cast a pebble, swatted, and launched with such [Might] that it cracked the stone beneath Fu as she was thrown over the edge.

Lost, and claimed by the valley below.

A mournful growl sounded from the [Spirit Bear], panicked and sorrowful, and fell to silence in a shorter span than it had arrived. Yet it was filled by a crack of stone, and by Fu’s scrambling arms as the floor broke beneath him.

Entire sections tumbled in landslide.

He felt Hushi arrive, scraping the last of his [Air Qi] to tether himself between toppling brick and Fu’s outstretched arm. The pair shared in breathy effort to forestall this fall, allowing the chain to be flung in the vain hope that it might latch on to anything solid.

The ground will not kill me after all we have faced!

“Brother Fu,” laughed Long, appearing as the chain went taught. “I’ll have to raise your tithe of kowtows.”

Fu grunted in response. “Long," it came, arriving alongside a minor sigh of relief. "Pull me up."

But the Heavens were not so kind.

With a cocksure grin, Long loosed his hold upon the chain.

Hushi’s grip on the stone was overwhelmed by this shift in weight, prompting a flurry of desperate teal arms against the debris. Fu scrambled for a purchase that did not come, raking, clawing, thrusting his-

The pair entered open air, merging with the hail of bricks and dust to plummet below.

Farther and farther they fell from the edge, descending head-first and without grace, gleaning only the rush of air and the rapidly distancing mess from whence they had fallen.

Mid-air, Fu was immersed in a peerless rage, and for once, allowed it to overcome him.

Such things were irrelevant upon facing one’s death, after all.

In a shared impression with Hushi, he bellowed through his broken throat and declared, “Traitorous bastard!” to the Heavens above.

They fell.

And yet, a ridiculous noise fell at their side. Not three strides away, plummeting through the open air of [Green Blight Valley] was the very one that had engineered this ill fate.

“Such rudeness!” broke Long, his pristine hair - unmolested. “We’ll have to see about squaring this debt, Fu. Most likely after we land, no?”