[Spectral Qi] had the zhanmadao phase through Fu’s neck in a blow that would have spilled him across the dust. Yet his foe did not teeter into imbalance, no, her skill was such that the blade retracted from further strokes.

Fu’s suffusion ended some steps from the fight’s boundary. As it had for countless fresh exchanges.

An instinctual stall, for a swell of sap scythed vertically where his foot was to be placed. Two of the manifested [Spirit Apes] were at his east and west, claws widened as if there was something held between each.

The [Air Qi] behind shifted dramatically, an alert sent by Hushi’s urgent impression.

[Dao of Withdrawal].

He plumed through a sudden, unsubtle gust of Shuidi’s making, and again met a physical edge in this form.

The Heavens are cruel to have me die as a fish might.

The true [Spirit Ape] had waylaid Zhu’s intervention in some matter of heartbeats, though Fu could spare no time to glance at their progress.

Instead he maintained his form of mist, and thrust to the furthest point to begin evading once more. His chain was absent, unable to move immaterially with [Spectral Qi], rendering him defenceless for a second time.

My [Soul Qi] wanes. Tactics must change.

Thus he drew on his [Killing Intent] with which to flail.

The force surrounded his palms, and prompted a move further inside this ape-borne arena if only to display confidence.

All I might do is bide my time.

But the Imperial scowled. “This taller blade has lost interest. All Fu Gao does now is dance and flee!”

Her open palm graced the zhanmadao’s blade, and revealed then who was the frog and who it was that spat in wells.

Repugnant, bloody light encapsulated her weapon.

A [Killing Intent] that spoke of massacres.

The ground beneath Fu seemed to tremble and quake. But a breath revealed that his legs had turned to traitorous cowards, near buckling under the exuded pressure. Even some twenty paces distant.

This intensified with her steps.

A slow gait to torture the villain that had shamed her juniors.

Fifteen paces became ten.

Death approached- death strangled his will. Will for his [Core] to cycle, his legs to move, his thoughts to see reason.

His [Dao of Wayward Breezes] found naught.

Death.

Fu gleaned [Thrice Clouded Boa’s] wisdom then.

A curse, he had thought, to mirror the joy of her venerable twin.

To fear death was unthinkable, when further terrors could plague one’s soul.

The sentiment could not unweight him from this Imperial’s soul, but gave him leave to clatter upon a knee.

Cold was the blade upon his neck. Death’s aura worming forth.

“I can… not die here,” he gasped, offering no pomposity. However the next words choked in his throat, silenced by pain. “I will offer-”

Chains tightened upon his [Core], warring things that only added to all he already faced. The Clouded Courts [Dao Oath] threatened their own death for the words he was about to offer, as did Grandmother Hua’s for those very same.

He did not know whether to laugh or cry.

“This taller blade sees conflict behind the villain’s eyes. Again it is asked. The who. To inspire a well-used edge to pause,” the woman said. “A decision for taller blades.”

Her free hand lifted the douli.

Hushi’s heart was as a dragon’s, impressing no fear.

“Peace, beast,” she said, casting the blackened affair aside.

Fu’s chest seized. “I am-”

The zhanmadao cleaved Fu’s arm at the shoulder.

A dull thud sounded by his right.

Resonating impressions amplified all.

“Grass. Our venerable Emperor [Sixth Under Heaven] spoke of this, of what you should become. Not grand, as this taller blade is, or lesser as her shoots are. But what is mulched to feed it. Swear now, Fu Gao,” she said. “On the boundless [Dao] and no fallacy as your name was.”

Three stars erupted in the Imperial’s face to explode her across the arena.

The [Killing Intent’s] pressure lifted, driving Fu to gasp in what air he might.

An arm lost is small against all else that might be taken.

Hushi and Shuidi shared such resolve.

Flecks of sap slopped across the periphery as Udvah’s [Spatial Qi] rid the street of two ape-like conjurations, allowing Zhu’s further advance. Tong fa gripped taught, the plum-eyed cultivator looked well tarnished as he put himself before Fu.

Only in mention was Zhu’s second [Constellation Seed] known. The properties of this kite with tripartite hue. Here it had split, forming a sun, star and moon in crystalline form to orbit the air above him.

“This taller blade-”

“Fu Gao is uglier now,” cut Zhu. “The shame I’ll endure when walking with my brother is a thing you’ll now pay for.”

The Imperial’s expression darkened, and she set her zhanmadao in a striking stance. An opening step to a technique the [Old One’s Whisker] drew no feedback from. Though her severity made clear what threat she believed Zhu to represent.

Fu blurred to Zhu’s shoulder, only to be greeted by a warding tong fa. “Bold,” he commented, appearing on the other side.

“You’re in no fit state.”

Both ghosts drew their weapons.

Shuidi. Turn all to mist.

Their foe’s [Killing Intent] raged forth to meet the pair, and was met in equal force. To counter, twin powers erupted, distorting the air as if filled with dark granules. A pairing of [Intent] that proved suitable to keep the force at bay.

Yet the proximity drew a phantom pain in Fu’s stump, despite needing no reminder of his recent suffering.

He winced, and dodged as the zhanmadao blitzed for his head with unerring speed.

Zhu’s [Dao Principle] appeared as gold-tinged plum. It manifested a simple stalk, as one might find atop his namesake fruit, and embedded itself between the slashing, blurring imperial and he.

“As surely as water returns to form: all acts are repaid with results.”

The star-shaped [Constellation Seed] descended meteorically, driving the Imperial off balance with tremendous force. One part, for the sun arrived thereafter, pinning her far side with a second impact.

Thirdly, the moon followed suit.

In a moment, all radiated unprecedented tides of [Star Qi], [Sun Qi] and [Moon Qi] respectively. Turning molten upon the woman’s flesh.

Fu blinked as she toppled, writhing- her skin bubbling, flesh popping and simultaneously freezing where these energies spread. It birthed a distant, simian howl, before a second resonance took place in her body.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

A crippling as her ape was dispatched by powers unknown.

It is… over?

Shuidi impressed a look to Linhua. The saber-toting disciple was atop a distant ruin, immersed in a sea of fading specks. But already she closed on their direction, her gait indicative of some great injury.

Zhao Po at her tail.

“That [Dao Principle], Zhu. I would know what it was? A plum stalk, and certain death? Truthfully, my mind can process few things, but might you not have done that previously?”

Sweat ringed Zhu’s brow, cloying the caked dust upon it. “The [Dao of Certain Absolution]. It’s a final tethering that erases all [Karmic] ties through undeniable offering. What form is as boundless as the [Dao]. But I held no tie with her until I’d lost at her hand.”

Tanshaui’s wings illuminated atop Fu’s discarded douli, prompting him to fetch it. His right arm moved on instinct.

“Amituofo,” greeted Udvah, dipping his head. “The crippled are secure. This lacking seeker would ask on the next move, yes?”

“Gratitude brother, for the diligence. No two paces within the Four Corners Prefecture are safe as of now. Numbers are our solace. Recuperation and direction. These wounds,” Fu gestured plainly to each absence- to Zhao Po’s mirrored state, Linhua’s myriad cuts and the vacancy where their sixth ought well to have stood. “These wounds hamper our mission. Beside this, we must offer what intelligence we might.”

The ground shook thunderously, heralding a fresh wave of [Spirit Beasts].

“If any yet remain,” muttered Zhao Po.

Udvah’s gun struck once more.

🀦

[Core Formation] had swiftly staunched Fu’s bleeding arm. One boon among many that a developed path of [Body] afforded. It dulled the pain, and the stage of his cultivation- with its strengths and attributes- shed queer light on such an injury.

For a mortal to lose one arm was debilitating.

They could not labour in fields or upon boats, as each task scaled in difficulty with half the required limbs.

Yet Fu’s missing arm, or its prior use, was somewhat mitigated by the [Control], [Might] and general bolstering that cultivation provided. It ran in line with the mystifying prowess that mortals attributed to those on the Path, the preternatural talent that had cultivators perform well beyond their ken, if only because all aspects of their body were better.

In the gloom of this alchemist’s cellar, Fu asked the Heavens for longer with which to practise.

Silence reigned there. Within. Though a thousand paws trampled above, combing the debris for any that remained.

Each of the Cloud Gathering division held firm in corners beneath.

Dust fell in sheets about them, stonework shifted, threatening to collapse the fragile floor above under the sheer weight of all that rampaged some few strides above their heads.

Late. Late. Middle. Late. Late.

What his [Senses] gleaned became a mantra.

Late. Middle. Late.

A sea of fire and blades.

To move was akin to having the earth swallow them whole; cultivation; training; any effort to while away this stampede.

Contrary to this, and clad beneath Udvah’s well-practised [Clouded Ghost Arts], two ghosts emerged from a dim corona of gold. His [Dao of Sanctuary], now closed.

Central, Zhu showed a count of two on his fingers, which Fu mutely acknowledged.

The Imperial’s taller blade, he knew not her name, had died. Therefore no [Constellation Seed] could be reaped.

My hope is that Master Ban will be pleased with the four we have taken. This invasion may well change priorities, but I dare not speak for him.

An hour saw the rampage end.

Oppressive weight struck to re-enter the [Spring Equinox’s] domain. It gave no indication of time, nor a sign of setting.

A fresh scattering of golden leaves were upon the ground.

Fu withheld his thoughts. “Our search begins again. The Sect must be found.”

“No,” said Zhu, his plum eyes upon the middle distance. “They’re already here.”

All turned in concert, their rigidity plain as orchid hanfu swayed upon the fractured skyline. A score, with twice that in [Spirit Beasts] to support their menace. Even the blind mind see the object of these fresh arrivals’ desires, for each stare was levied against the ghosts.

“This Yin Linhua asks forgiveness. She spies no allies among them.” At her breast, Fuzhi hissed in agreement.

Zhao Po trembled a dagger into his grip.

Intentionally vague.

“You speak in mystery, brother,” said Fu, never moving for fear of escalation. “I feel all but you have eyes but fail to see.”

How high has this slaughter soared his [Senses]?

Flames of the purest onyx sheen suddenly roared before the division, and they held all the silence of night. As did the Master that stood in its aftermath.

Scarf-wrapped, and with a look of perpetual chill upon his frame.

Fu’s lips twigged into a smile.

“Disciple Gao Fu, these are not the circumstances I would have liked for my return,” delivered Yunhan, wearing no semblance of a smile. “No. Though I am gladdened you yet live.”

Shuidi radiated confusion as Fu thrust into a bow. “Master Yunhan. This disciple greets you!”

“Propriety remains,” returned the man. “Our Elder speaks highly of this. Such attitude does me proud, junior. Much will be discussed. At other times, in other places.”

Fu remained low. “Gratitude, senior, for these kind words. These disciples would trouble you to ask for direction.”

The overlooking Imperials set forth, and streamed closer with unparalleled swiftness to draw the attention of all in supplication.

An overt blink pressed Yunhan’s eyelids, barely visible over the hem of his highest scarf. No motion followed on him. Nary a twitch.

Yet a great horizontal bisection split these forces in twain.

And so they toppled, thudding to join the leave-strewn debris.

“Another Master holds claim over you. No order can come from me. The Heavens merely orchestrated this fateful meeting. As such I offer a suggestion- flight. [Core Formation] is a lacking defence for what is to transpire.”

“Gratitude, senior,” offered Fu.

Zhu put the sky under scrutiny. “The immortals are to take stage, no? A confluence of fates rages beyond.”

“As you say, disciple. All mountains are soon to meet,” said Yunhan, thumbing the hilt of his jian.

🀦

Death itself warded the division from harm across twenty li of distance. Guilt may well have surfaced for Yunhan’s efforts, as Fu felt this lethality might be better redirected to those in more dire straits.

Though he knew it was unwise to inspect gift horses too closely.

Their clearance was swift in the expert’s presence. Five li became ten, and on to twenty, beyond that few in the division had the capacity to track. The destination became clear with time, however, and weary feet soon had them planted before a perilous boundary of Qi.

Fu saw it as the [Array] it was.

Tongues of swaying green gas cut a vast perimeter through the ruins, continuing on for a distance that only Zhu or Yunhan might glean. Queer, however, were the buildings within this- for no blemish marred their outer shells.

Yunhan approached the [Array], and set his palm upon the wisping green to have it dissipate for a time. “Take care where you step,” he warned. “The dust covers much.”

“Gratitude, senior,” nodded Fu, acutely aware of the carpeting leaves.

Soot masked these myriad golden articles of lethal edge, keener than any [Spirit Beast’s] claw, though they did not clink as married blades might. Already it was an exercise to navigate, but here at the [Array’s] edge proved a peril with so many having massed and been blocked by the defensive inscriptions.

“These designs aren’t of the sun-facing Sect.” stated Zhu, moving at Yunhan’s shoulder.

“No, disciple. We are under the hospitality of the [Venerable Reed Sage].”

“Charity? The Cloudy Serpent Sect shouldn’t have need of it,” he returned.

Fu shook his head. “A fire at the gate is also a disaster to the fish in the pond.”

Yunhan almost smiled. “The disciple’s wisdoms have not lessened then. This much is true- against the Empire of Abundant Spring the colour of one’s hanfu matters not.”

The threat is clear, but he speaks as if our Sect might be endangered. An ill omen, if a Pillar can be troubled.

Groans stained the air about these pristine streets, deepening as they walked. With it wafted a stench of some medicinal composition, just bitter enough to stave off the cloying aroma of spilled blood.

Propriety had their origins well hidden within buildings, surfacing only when another aide would rush from their doors to fall quiet almost as swiftly.

At the base of an innocuous, if towering structure, Yunhan stepped back. “My duties are elsewhere.”

“Gratitude,” sounded from five throats, and the Cloud Gathering division entered to a scene of near one hundred refugees. Citizenry whose bloodied looks near turned in unison to those that darkened the door.

Fu moved first, affecting a bow.

The cold of a dagger pressed his back upon rising.

“These disciples return to offer what lacking aid they might,” he said, noting the sub-par [Might] of the one that brandished their weapon against him.

“State your name-”

“Peace, junior,” interrupted a third, one of the common citizenry. “The Elder’s favour cannot be falsified. Nor would Master Ban welcome a scratch upon his division.”

His assailant faded away, allowing Fu to greet the speaker with a second bow.

A man of no prior acquaintance with middling age and grave expression. In place of speech he withdrew from his space on the floor, and had his Qi etch a minor [Array] in a sphere around the building’s interior.

[Lesser Recollection Array].

“Report, junior,” he stated thereafter.

And so Fu shared their tale as concisely as he might. From the Empire’s opening blow to the pockets of [Spirit Beasts] they had slain during their passage. All words of [Constellation Seeds] were omitted, both within the tournament and beyond, but the picture painted was adequate.

At its end, the man’s face was unchanged. “I see. The Cloud Gathering division’s composition is fortunate then, to have held only one of [Summer].”

Fortunate?

Linhua’s [Clouded Ghost Arts] leaked aside him.

“This disciple would be bold, senior, and ask further,” he said.

A pregnant silence extended, and the situation forgave what improper shuffling could be heard from these disguised disciples strewn about each wall.

“Named as the [Dao of Spring’s Cleansing], the leaves were unparalleled. No longer do cultivators of [Summer] stand within the Four Corners Prefecture. Its shedding was absolute,” came the senior’s sombre tone. “A quarter of all forces have fallen, disciple, and that was a single stroke.”

Zhao Po’s stomach emptied upon the floor.

“Impossible fiends,” whispered Linhua.

The [Array] collapsed around them, folding into ethereal parchment within the man’s hand. He sealed it with Qi, binding the ends with an absent look for it to vanish a moment later.

“Gratitude, senior,” acknowledged Fu, this information yet to be parsed. “Might we seek direction here? We would know where best to concentrate our efforts.”

“Rest now, while you can. Our doctors are overtaxed and resources are thin, but take what time you might. A message will arrive in time.”

Fu bowed, and led his division to a dirtied corner in which to sit.

A quarter.

The ground rumbled once more.