A great nausea rose in Fu, and showed itself in full only moments after his arrival. [Spatial Qi] had he and his fellow refugees appear within the courtyard of a defended structure, albeit on their knees and with the contents of their stomachs cast out before them.

The fan-toting cultivator made a noise to highlight her disgust, scowling further behind the veil her instrument provided. “[Foundation Realm],” she muttered, proffering no help.

Fu recovered to his feet, and amongst others, blinked at the surroundings.

More formations of inlaid characters decorated the stone they stood on, which he guessed to be the same to the [Spatial Array] that had led them here. Unlike the vessel’s own, however, this was not held in a pagoda, rather a traditional, square fort.

The created mess of bile and rations fizzled into nothing as they stepped, washed by an unknown force, leaving the ground to match the slabs that paved the way towards a sickly coloured [Paifang].

“Hushi, are you well?” asked Fu. His Bond was boneless beneath the douli, and impressed a similar notion of nausea through their link.

An [Intent] pushed out, singular in burst, from the… [Spatial Qi] cultivator, grabbing the attention of all. “You,” she announced, settling her gaze on a taller woman with a [Spirit Stoat] around her leg. “I name you leader, and messenger. Enter the [Paifang] and extend this letter to the closest Sect Officer.”

The woman bowed low, though was clearly caught unsure. She stalled, and Fu felt a pang of empathy for her.

“Approach,” sighed the [Spatial Qi] cultivator, and the letter she had drawn from her robes was soon exchanged. Though that is where their conversation ended.

The refugees proceeded onward, marching a length of twenty paces to arrive before the swirling arch of light. A triangular formation put the messenger at the forefront, with Fu several bodies behind.

She clutched her heart in surprise at the threshold, and realisation soon dawned on him that she was reading her [Ink].

Does-

His next step clarified any thoughts he may have had, as his own [Ink] burned, prompting Fu to summon it.

“[Formation Grade], Trial, Poison?” murmured many of the voices. Those who spoke held the procession at bay, seeming to ponder on these words rather than the task at hand.

Fear, of all things, cracked their voices. Gasps, or furrowed brows surfacing.

These are mere words? A strong reaction.

Fu was perhaps third to move from the confusion.

Strangely, he felt a great emptiness towards this latest trial. As though it were dampened, or a thing that paled against the trials he had already witnessed. Furthermore it was queer to him that they focused on this, and he reached the [Paifang] ahead of the messenger.

“It is the [Law of Origin] for this [Mystic Realm],” he said, then passed through.

🀦

Qi encased his body in a wrap of incredible pressure, far stronger than the [Spatial Array] had only minutes previous. Though where that had appeared instant, swapping locations, sights and sense in a mere moment, the [Paifang] did not.

Writhing shades of green illuminated his surroundings as though he were under water, pulsing in sickly hues. Some were vibrant, and they passed in shapeless form to dazzle him.

Fu was left there, suspended alone save for Hushi’s presence atop his head. Crossing the threshold had seen his hand move first to test the gateway of Qi, and here his fingers were locked in the same suspension, unable to be moved.

It granted an unmarred sight of the branded serpent inlaid in his skin.

Were he able to cradle his temples then, he might have. Though unbidden grief was the true source of his pain. Flowing now, like channels of water within his heart and soul. Eroding the grasp he had on his sanity, and the motivation for stepping forwards.

In this place between realms, he allowed those waters to trickle forth. Mei, and the channel of sorrow her loss carved, coming first.

Hushi impressed comfort to help guide him, for which he was deeply grateful.

Had I been firmer in my demands… no. If… If I had simply given her a core, she would have found a place for it. She would be beside me now… I… I am a fool.

Cold spread from his gut, creeping upwards to bring his mind to a chill.

A buzz, almost.

Was it unpreparedness? Weakness? For I suffer both. Her final death was not by my hand, but it may as well-

Whatever threshold he had crossed faded.

An end that delivered no small cacophony of screams and yells.

A verdant fortress, crumbling and overrun by vines was among his first sights. The second was the devastation of combat between cultivators and several hundred dog-sized insects.

[Spirit Beasts], swarming across the foliage-riddled ground.

Fu unwound his chain and rolled forwards with a yell, narrowly missing the blade of a [Spirit Mantis], as he came to its side.

“Hushi, act as my shield!” he cried, emptying his Qi into the Bond to have him enlarge.

The octopus took residence upon his back, and [Air Qi] burst across the teal arms now splaying out, condensed and ready to strike.

Lashing out with the chain, Fu smashed the mantis’ head to the side.

Barely.

What type of beast is this?

The size belied the mantis’ strength, its [Might], he realised, or its [Resilience], denying his blow almost in full.

Another prattled to his side, ridding any chance of further blows, and he rolled again to create some distance.

His back struck the wall, closer than he knew.

But seconds were granted here. Seconds in which he saw more refugees emerge from the sickly tint of the [Paifang].

Both of his adversaries launched at those emerging, cleaving a first, second, and third refugee before the others could even begin to react. Keen blades slashed apart flesh like parchment, blurring in motion.

The full exodus to this [Mystic Realm] showed moments after, with the final bulk arriving into panic and sprays of blood.

“Away from the [Paifang],” cried Fu. “Hushi, we must help them through.” With affirmation, he launched ahead, drawing from his [Arts].

The first attempt shone little light on the truth of his [Half Cloud Step], neither in function or scope. As he called it now, only the path to activation came clearly.

[Air Qi] fizzled throughout his body, having him grow lighter and faster in the intervening steps, and his next attack crashed out to have a far more measured effect on the mantis it struck.

The head of his chain shattered a half portion of the first’s carapace, seeing Fu draw it back to repeat the blow on the second. Next, he leapt, and to his immediate surprise, the height of his leap took him many paces higher than he had ever expected.

So far, in fact, that he landed upon the furthest mantis, one whole target further than he had intended.

It mattered little which died first, he supposed, and he looped his chain around the [Spirit Insect’s] neck, and yanked with another leap.

His [Air Qi] enhanced movements brought further strength to this motion, and the beast was promptly decapitated.

Yet the second had recovered, rounding with an infusion of its own Qi. [Wood], if Fu was to guess, and this glinted upon its twin blades.

It drew back with rapid lethality, but was met with Hushi’s full might. The octopus had lurched in unknown fashion, jetting to the side to use air as though it were water. From back to air, to turn and constrict the insect with each of his flailing limbs.

Many of the refugees were still agape, foolishly so, and again Fu called to them. “Defend yourselves!”

The wielder of the jian that flawlessly shredded through the mantis’s chest, touching not a mite of Hushi’s entanglement, needed no such order. “You’ll consider this a repayment if you’ve half a heart.”

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Fu’s eyebrow arched at the informal speech. “Repayment? No, let us be clear of this before we speak,” he answered the voice, gaining an amused chuff in response.

The mantis dropped and Hushi returned, showing Yongwu Long as the speaker, his golden carp swirling above.

“If that’s what you wish, brother Gao Fu.”

Long then surged, straddling Fu’s back to deliver a timely deflection.

Mandibles, this time, from a [Spirit Centipede] so long, and so moss-coated that it might well have been a rotten log. A shrill screech of opposing forces rose, held until the golden carp above Long released a pulse.

[Dao], however, not Qi.

The centipede stumbled then, half of its myriad limbs failing to find purchase in the undergrowth, delivering Long’s jian through the roof of its mouth, and beyond.

Safety.

A thing Fu both craved, and, strangely, felt. The assurance of such in the latter case, though there all the same, however foreign it might be. Long remained at his flank, granting moments in which Fu might think.

More cultivators clashed ahead, faring well as they advanced on their location.

These must be the Sect Officers. These… marvels.

The movements of what Fu supposed were now his seniors showed the gap between power in stark contrast. True to name, those on his side of the aggressive insect horde were but refugees. On the other-

A leader emerged in the centre, a force of nature himself. His blows caused a ruckus of sound, and stranger yet, characters shone in the air as he struck, vibrating to push back the tides of insects upon him.

Staggering the ranks, so that the cultivators behind might advance to end them.

“The full debt’s going to tilt in my favour, Gao Fu. Better that you join me or else you’ll be laundering my roqun for the next few days,” smirked Long, flawlessly dispatching another [Spirit Mantis].

Fu launched out to end his spectating, unfurling his chain.

While the mass of foes were focused on those ahead, the weaker targets of his comrades had still piqued the interest of many a compounded eye. This presented as a fleshy wave, almost wall to wall at the rear of the main force.

To his left, two of the refugees had rallied, and a [Spirit Boar] now charged forwards recklessly.

“Yongwu Long, let us hold them at bay until the Sect Officers can reach us,” he called, dodging beneath the front blades of another mantis. This time, with his [Half Cloud Step] still active, he leapt vertically within its reach, wrapping and decapitating it with a cleaner jerk than before.

He puffed out on landing, his [Dantian] having fallen to but a third of its capacity.

It drains quickly.

Just then he was aware of the earth beneath him, and how it rumbled.

Fu jerked back, throwing himself from a set of burgeoning moss. His movement was so violent that his body turned over, though despite a small moment of inertia, he had landed once more upon his feet.

One pace from a rising mound of springy green, a mask for the carapace of an enormous [Spirit Insect].

A beetle, in his limited knowledge of insects, yet one to rival the size of a bear.

Fu created distance with a bound, but was clattered into by a sudden rush of the beetle’s own, propelling him off balance.

Such a glancing blow, yet a second more and it may have broken my bones.

It struck with a forked horn, frilled and mossy, yet lethally rigid. He rounded it, lashing out at its six legs only for his chain to bounce off.

Frustration grew in him, and this poured forth his [Intent]. Though in the face of it, the [Spirit Insect] stamped, seeming to anger. [Wood Qi], he was sure now, erupted from the mossy expanse on its back, pushing spores into the air.

And in his efforts, Fu took in a good lungful.

Horror struck as these spores invigorated a growth of moss, slow, but sure, and one he could feel appearing in miniscule pockets within his throat.

He mumbled, his mouth clamped shut. The accompanying nausea had him desperate to retch, and only his presence of mind forbade this.

As now this beast was trampling, worse yet, it was upon him. Dampness came amidst a battering, squashing him Into the ground to be trapped between mossy flesh and earth.

Spore-laden breath gushed from his lungs.

Fu pushed to no avail, though the [Spirit Insect] drew up for another press. A flail of tentacles saw Hushi escape first, boneless already, and he jetted out to entangle one side of the beast’s legs.

The remaining Qi supporting his [Art] fled alongside his breath, but he squirmed his way free as his foe scrambled.

It threw Hushi off with a series of kicks, falling to crush the base of Fu’s leg but a moment before it could escape.

Rather than open his mouth to scream, he clamped down. Wrenching it free through the slickness, to roll backwards. Limping, though with chain drawn wide.

His weapon was cast in an arc, now infused with the [Dao of Reach], extending to wind around the legs with impossible length and catch around its right side. On the left, Hushi mirrored this, and together they grounded it.

Desperately, he looked to each side, knowing a call for help would only draw more spores. He was however, not alone.

A broad shouldered woman delivered a flying kick to the [Spirit Insect’s] side, pushing it a single step away. The location of her strike shone, [Light Qi] flashing, and a miniature swarm of white insects emerged to gnaw upon the mossy hide.

As did a second refugee, pushing a spray of oil out from the air before him.

Fu’s spiritual energy sunk lower, but he advanced despite it, grimly plunging his fists into the eyes of the beast. Though it writhed, each knuckle went deeper until its flesh surrounded his elbow, and it dropped dead.

Eyes… are soft. Good.

Shared looks between he and the cultivators showed gratitude in either direction, yet they moved on swiftly.

Hushi unfurled, and returned Fu’s chain in one slick motion. Flicking his gaze to the fallen [Spirit Insect].

Hunger in their link.

And hunger returned with affirmation.

The fisherman drew close to the corpse as his Bond went to work, winding arms inside to retrieve the [Spirit Core]. He felt no guilt at this act, rather pride that Hushi had the foresight to suggest such a thing.

Despite the battle raging in all corners.

“Why Brother Gao Fu,” exclaimed Long, hurrying to his side, jian raised outward. “I see you’re proving to be quite the scoundrel. A shame on your clan!”

Fu’s brow furrowed, eyes darting between not-so-distant [Spirit Beasts]. “For…”

“All for the glory of the Sect, yes. I’m sure,” laughed Long, and now Fu heard the rattle of clashing cores with the pouch upon the man’s hip. “How diligent we are!”

In this maddened place, the makings of a smile graced Fu’s lips.

A likeable fellow. If not touched in the head to speak as he does now.

There was an almighty crash the moment Hushi returned, not ten paces behind the [Spirit Insect’s] corpse. Characters splayed in dandelion yellow, vibrating a storm of motion as precursor to the Sect Officer’s mighty steps.

“Disciple?” he barked, looking upon Long’s roqun first, and the embroidery that marked him as such.

“Mock, Officer,” he answered.

To their side, a foolish [Spirit Centipede] sought to invade their meeting. It reeled back, half in motion, only to be crushed by the appearance of the leader’s Bond. A yellow, metallic [Spirit Ape], some mountain of muscle and flesh that landed atop it with a prominent shockwave.

“You would not arrive without message,” the leader said again.

Long dipped his head. “No, Officer.” And to Fu’s shock, he produced the letter in question.

The leader knocked his head aside, granting the [Spirit Ape] leave to crush as he pleased. “Hopeful,” he then read. “The Heavens do enjoy their jokes.”

🀦

The refugees found themselves upon a mountain-top fort of inordinate size, swamped by the same mire of verdant undergrowth that was shown around the [Paifang]. Only now they marched beyond it, hastened, in fact, across a perilous ridge towards another.

With his ankle well injured, Fu focused on the path ahead, pebbles and skree cast by his dragging foot.

Urgency had laced a single warning from the leader, embodied by that of the brigade beneath his command. To march. With no backwards glances, and with no hesitation.

So they had, and they did, crossing a distance of several li without breaking. Worse than the sheer physicality of such a task, however, were the screams. Tied in close by the stench.

Hushi had his arms unspooled, sheltering Fu from the worst of it. Green air, pungent, filtered on by him, agitating his lungs.

Others fared worse.

“Hasten!” bellowed a voice ahead, coming from the great, open gates of the fortress at the ridge’s end.

Two hundred paces. Maybe more. The sight was hazy.

A buzz of activity greeted him over the threshold, and angered shouts for him to move. No sooner had he collapsed to all fours than the scruff of his hanfu was grasped, dragging him clear of the closing gate.

Fu rolled to his back, one eye on the ridge between his close-mouthed gasps. There was a face hovering at his own, blocking sight of a green fog. Acrid, and thick, and the source of fresh screams as it rolled over those refugees that had trailed behind.

Foreign Qi caused his body to tingle, agitating both the spores had left in his lungs, and the pain in his ankle. “[Foundation Realm], [Air Affinity]. Open, disciple,” muttered the face above his own.

Hesitance had a set of hands pry open his mouth, and several drops of Qi-infused liquid scorched his insides clean. A mending force that dissolved his damage, and reduced his injuries to see him restored in a matter of moments.

He was lent a cursory glance before his benefactor moved on, in which he rose in thanks. “Gratitude.”

The gates closed then, and a set of characters shone in the seams. At the edge of his senses, Fu touched upon the change, a shift in [Air Qi] to something cleaner, prompting him to take a well-deserved lungful.

Many more were tended to, scores of medicinal masters, or cultivators, moving to dispense their aid to the ailing. Long, he recognized to be fine, and despite a certain curiosity Fu only moved to join the ranks forming before the Sect Officer.

An imposing man, young, with stern eyebrows of a bushy black, tinged with spindles of dandelion yellow that mirrored the close shave upon his scalp.

“Hopefuls. Act with propriety!” bellowed another man to his right, scholarly, yet similarly styled if not for a sharpened face and well-tended bun atop his head. “The message granted by the venerable Secretary of the Cloudy Serpent Sect has revealed much of your education. But this shall be rectified! We are no longer outside the safety of the Green Blight Garrison, and so the proper respect must be shown!”

Respect must not be shown-

A grizzled voice murmured something behind, words on enemies and soldiers, and about how bowing in a battlefield was tantamount to death.

Fu ignored this, and sustained a low bow. An action shared by all around him.

“Sect Officer Ren Changfu will now address you! Rise!”

They did, and the Sect Officer delivered. Thunder in each of his syllables. “You all stand in my garrison, useless to me as you are now! Know three things, and commit them to memory! One, Contribution Points will be granted to those who are of benefit. Two, any further healing will be deducted from these wages. Three. They will be awarded at [Season’s] end.”

With that, the younger scholar stepped forth. “We thank you for your instruction, Sect Officer!” His glare encouraged another bow from the refugees. “In their kindness, our Cloudy Serpent Sect has availed you of a new status. Hopeful. Separate from the debtors. As such, you must be processed, and inducted, which will spare you from our mission for many hours.”

Fu listened intently, coming to bow again unprompted. Though kindness was not a term he would choose for the Sect.

“Beyond this, your duty is simple. Do as you are instructed, complete your tasks promptly, and know that to disobey an order will reward you with banishment over the walls.” Then, for reasons unknown to Fu, a humour crackled in the man’s eyes. “[Green Blight Valley] does not suffer fools. As you will swiftly come to know.”