There are twenty eight standard alchemical figurations widely recognised across the Clear Sky Empire.

We will begin with none.

Understanding comes first.

In wider lexicology a formation may well address [Arrays], strategies, cultivation methods, Qi directions or [Core Formation]. It must be stated that these may play some, or no part going forth.

What this text refers to are the precise motions - accompanied by proper application of [Inner Qi] to refine the materials within cauldrons, furnaces or rare cases: any space occupied by a peerless talent.

Such formations were created, and propagated, as they are optimal teachings for the fledgling alchemist to begin their path, but must be stated that they are by no means comprehensive or without fault.

Material separation or the titration of individual aspects forms the basis, and is well covered by the initial six sets of formations.

Speciality refinement is covered in the next ten.

Amplification in the following two.

The remaining ten are centuries beyond any who hold this tome within their hands.

- “Twenty Eight Figurations, a Bastardisation” - Scribes of the Cherry River Alchemist

The next shift gave merit to the flames, for these roared as if the Heavens were enraged. Hues of malefic blue roared across the ground, wreathed in such unnatural tides of smoke that Fu could scarcely see those arrayed against his fortress.

Though this was not to his detriment, but their own.

Four bodies led eighty spectres, which held fast despite their infernal scenery. Had held fast for some time now, gripped by indecision. Fu would grant himself only a moment longer, well assured by the conversation he followed with expanded [Senses].

“But I say again,” whimpered the scholarly strategist. “There is a reason for his direction. Fu Gao would not intend for us to arrive did he not hold a thing in preparation.”

“He wished us removed from our fortresses,” mused the effeminate cultivator.

Arunima might well have looked consternate could Fu see her front, but even void of grasses and smoke he could not see through a person’s back. She spoke with this tone, however, in veiled frustration and through a front of wisdom. “This eighty second rate daoist would urge caution, lest her new comrades fall to the villain’s schemes. Yet if her lacking insight is worth anything, she might suggest that Fu Gao wishes for this inaction.”

“To what end?” mused the strategist.

The horsewoman grunted. “With respect, we beat a dead dog.” Her steed moved a single stride, and no more.

Silence.

“Yet he allowed you to live,” she cursed after three heartbeats, her [Spirit Horse] retreating back. “He makes to claim our flags while we tarry.”

“Then…” squirmed the effeminate cultivator. “Then he would have them. He is no fledgling, I am certain. Should he wish our fortresses, none would yet stand.”

That is enough.

Fu’s [Half Cloud Step] tore him away from his fortress and towards the fresh hellscape of his horizon. It had his eyes blear to rush through such quantities of smoke, and his lungs warmed- if not burned, from the inhalation.

A vaguity of silhouettes burned in coronas of blue. Fortresses drawn close by the latest shift, and by design Fu saw them as a perimeter wall that would end their [Trial] in forced proximity.

Due to this, his flight lasted mere minutes.

The surrounding [Air Qi] flexed as he soared into Arumina’s external courtyard, landing in a tumult of displaced smoke. It lapped with each bound, and Fu drew to a stall, waiting so his disturbance was less pronounced.

Outlines of the spectres blazed inside the smoke, and he would not test the limits of their observation so close to his goal.

He crossed the remaining distance without incident, and had Hushi nestle in the recesses of the courtyard’s gate, moving further himself. The fortress was unfamiliar, but common sense dictated that Arunima’s flag would be inward.

Somewhere high, safe and defensible.

Thus he found himself in a distant room to the rear, with eyes upon five spectres. Staunch, with a merging glow from the banner they protected. Podao, already levelled.

Tight. Yet the task should not be so difficult.

But he did not thrust forth, and instead put himself to the sham of rafters above. Crossing eaves, ever-present no matter the locale.

And waited.

An hour passed.

Another, perhaps, before a resounding cry cut through the dim crackle of flames beyond the walls.

“Fu Gao, reveal yourself!” it cried.

The villain arched a brow in his darkness.

The open fort held them for this length of time? Truly, these strategists overthink things.

Hushi impressed Arunima’s proximity in subtle hints. Slight warnings that were no more than a sense of encroaching danger, given their distance of some several hundred paces. Enough, however, to deduce their position.

It was not until the fourth repeating cry, and a sense that Arunima had stalled before the courtyard’s gate that Fu moved.

Yet… and yet a buzz of Qi set upon his [Senses]. With each silent stride towards the banner, it rose. No great effect, but a quiet thing that had his hackles rise.

[Half Cloud Step]

His hand wrapped tight around the banner’s casing at the end of his [Art], an inversion to avoid the trailing sweeps of the spectres. These stalled as his claim rippled through the fortress, as teal shone in place of Arunima’s light, and as each of the ethereal soldiers shifted allegiance to his own.

“Slay Arunima,” he commanded.

The spectres charged.

Fu emerged onto the ramparts amidst a flood of spectres,

Spectral qiang drowned the skies in a volley, piercing the forces Arunima’s alliance had brought to bear. The horsewoman’s soldiers, the first strategist’s, and then- A [Spirit Stork] was dissipated beneath the barrage, having the effeminate cultivator fall and gargle upon the ground.

“This eighty second daoist’s fortress has fallen,” wept Arunima, and stumbled into the gloom of her horsewoman’s shadow. “Does Fu Gao’s shame know no bounds?”

Falling weapons had the [Spirit Horse] dance in shifting, sidelong jerks. A navigation through well acupunctured ground.

This is not as it is meant to be.

Those spectres on the walls had delivered swift ruin to those within, and the Arunima’s retinue had dispensed the remainder. The first strategist fell next, skewered by a qiang from the rear that had the [False Dust Life Array] claim him thereafter.

Arunima is their sole target, why then have others fallen?

Trickery abound, Fu responded.

“I have failed you, mistress Eighty Second. My master, my Sect,” grunted the horsewoman, raising her sabre high. “We owe you a debt for leading you to the tiger’s den. Gah! I underestimated the cunning of the Sepulchral Saber Sect. Stand to my rear, and I shall deal with the villain!”

Fu landed ten strides distant, where smoke whorled and the glint of fading spectres were heavy. He drew his blade with lax effort. “You are courting death. Now face it.”

A tear sounded.

Something so swift that Fu’s eyes could not process why the horsewoman coughed up blood, nor how she had toppled. But the line showed soon, a shearing where her [Spirit Horse] was bisected to fall in two halves.

Her body struck the ground amidst specks of her [Spirit Beast], crippled and broken before the [False Dust Life Array] claimed her body.

Arunima’s fan glistened with blood. A coating upon each razor edge. “Amituofo,” she teased, throwing back her head to laugh. “You have talent, Fu Gao, but you are a carp among dragons. To think I, student of my great master and mother, [Mistress Eighty Second], would fall to the mere ‘Loot a House on Fire’!”

A grand name for it. I might have called it ‘Fishing with Two Lures’.

With her previous words concerning toad and crippling frogs, a blind man might have seen Arunima’s betrayal coming. Though even surprise would not have had him care about the strangers’ fates.

“Surround her,” he commanded.

The spectres remained stationary.

Stolen novel; please report.

Hushi impressed concern, and a thought of incoming Qi.

With a flick of her sleeve, Arunima dispelled the scene. A farce that had turned each spectre teal, and then, set them upon Fu.

A sea of re-gathered weapons flew from all angles, and his heart raced.

A strategy within my own. Indeed, a peerless talent.

The [Wind Phantom Strides] shifted his body horizontal, and he felt a speartip plunge through his flapping cloth. Another, and five, which began a series. Fu’s [Might] could well have deflected these if not for their untouchable nature, and so he continued.

He landed to the rear, and to the side, edged back as the series prolonged. But he saw then, how they came as waves. Staggered to position him where Arunima wished, to the courtyard’s rear gate where Hushi lay in wait.

[Dao of Wayward Breezes].

Fu moved but a single step, and felt the [Air Qi].

The only air is that created in my wake. All else is still. Stagnant and controlled. An [Array] must work against me.

Again, despite himself, Fu felt admiration for the Vajra. His abilities were countered, his [Arts] and [Dao].

His foe cried out. “Wei, you fool!”

Fu called upon his [Half Cloud Step] a moment too late, and as his foot touched upon the courtyard’s stone once more - gold arose.

Characters and inscriptions blustered by him as if vertical streamers in the wind, and the space was filled with a profundity. More than that, he saw the emergence of his employer. Of Wei, the Star siblings brother, who was cast into visibility from beneath a screen of illusory [Light Qi].

They traded a narrowing of eyes before Fu’s sight was blocked.

Some composition of pristine metal was birthed from the characters, Qi-rich and [Dao]-thick, and he struck against it as it entombed him. The sound reverberated, and a deposit of golden waves lashed the force back against him despite his arm retracting.

Fu stilled, bathed only in this golden light. He rapped a knuckle against it, and by sound he discovered it to be a great bell, if more of Heavenly nature than those daoist’s employed in their routines and rituals.

A muted “Fwah-ha,” marked Wei’s triumph, and Arunima’s voice soon followed.

“Were you a heartbeat later,” came the distorted sound. “Do not celebrate. You are the weakest link in this chain, and sully my brilliance. Go. Tend to the other fortresses’ flags, my victory should be total.”

“As you say, Mistress. I will strive to meet your expectations.”

Whether the man retreated or not, Fu could not sense. But to that end, he impressed his thoughts to Hushi, warning him to remain hidden.

The worst they might do is harm me, the [False Dust Life Array] preserves us.

“The Sepulchral Saber Sect,” began Arunima. “Their initiates should cling to shadows, where they belong. No matter how useful a tool you have made in securing favor with these lesser strategists. Still, they have no eyes here but your own, Fu Gao. This has made you a most sought after commodity.”

“I will sever my own tongue before I allow the likes of you to sully my Sect,” he cried in farce.

“Thus you will remain,” Arunima laughed. “The [Nine Rejuvenations Bell] will repair any damage upon yourself, while having you suffer should you attempt escape. No, assassin, I will claim you beyond the [Trial]’s conclusion. You have only to wait.”

The surroundings fell silent, and Fu…

Fu sat, entering the lotus position. No [Air Qi] reached him within this bell, save for that required to breathe. But, strangely, his conditions were advantageous.

For Arunima’s strategy had unwittingly sealed his preservation until the competition’s end. As such, he felt no shame at his loss. No [Heart Demon] foster for his inability to succeed. The Vajra was formidable in her skill, and he had been bested.

Bested in a competition that was but one part of his true goal.

🀦

Fu awoke from his mediation to a paired warmth. The first of which had his [Ink] throb with discomfort.

A first in two parts, it seemed.

A pleasant sensation to awake to.

Hushi had proved diligent during his capture, and had both furthered their insight into his most unused [Constellation Seed] and progressed it.

A fool's guess, but my partner will confirm my thoughts on it.

To increase his cultivation with the killing of [Spirit Beasts]. Cultivators. Any existence beneath his [Tyranny]... any of [Spring].

The second warmth was prominent, harking to a change of scenery beyond metal walls and reverberating tones. So said, for he felt a displacement of [Spatial Qi], and in moments did tended grass push beneath his feet. Stone, no longer.

Fu arrived on a verge, as he had before. The [Paifang] not two hundred strides distant, and the realm master’s abode at an equal, if opposing side. He was not first to emerge, but urged himself to move before two others turned.

There stood Arunima and Wei, who set troubled eyes upon him.

Their treasure was dismissed as we were travelled here.

He felt Hushi behind, and maintained a gaze with his foes while the octopus clambered atop him. An advantage lost as his presence was revealed to all.

“Three,” he whispered.

An impression with the approximation of a nod returned, and mental images flashed like that of pages within a tome. [Spirit Pheasants], hares, and other prey.

All fed to the [Hollow Ivory Splinter].

The pair some steps ahead ushered [Spirit Beasts] into their own folded hanfu. Wei’s, a fish Fu knew as a stargazer, and grotesque. With he and his sibling’s alias as Star, Fu wondered if such a beast was part of a recognisable heritage.

Arunima’s proved to be difficult. A serpent, the second he had encountered in this [Trial]. But he made no reaction.

“Commendable, Fu Gao,” called a lilac-clad aide. Hers, a timely intervention that stowed the hand Fu made to cup around his blade. “Yet this humble servant extends her congratulations to Mistress Eighty Second. The venerable [An Array in One Hand] is most impressed.”

“Then I would hear it from his own tongue,” scoffed Arunima.

Something flashed behind the aide’s eyes. Poorly concealed disdain, Fu thought. “If it pleases you, Mistress Eighty Second. I am certain that this paltry [Trial] has not tired any present, but my master would host you all the same.” She gestured to the abode in a deep bow. “The ceremony awaits.”

The Vajra stomped forth with Wei in tow, less composed for Fu’s proximity.

“Master Fu Gao, this offer is likewise extended to you. Be assured that none would dare retaliate within [A Strategist’s Folly]. The tea shall go undisturbed.”

Under his facade, Fu drew his lips thin. “Oh? But I would so welcome it. That these fools will be present… Does such protection extend beyond the [Mystic Realm]?”

“My master holds supreme authority. But the outer world is of no consequence,” she replied.

Fu strode by her, denying face.

When next Zhu and I dine, I shall be exceptionally humble to the servers in recompense.

The abode was an open affair of sparse decoration, and held mention only in the sweeping views of the vista below. More so when Fu was led to a table laden with all manner of desserts, for it sat upon an exterior balcony that jutted far over the edge.

[An Array at One Hand] sat at its head, rubbing a length of silvering hair upon his chin. He was mirthful at Fu’s arrival, and the delight in his eyes seemed to have reduce his age by years, if not decades. “Aah, aah,” he pined. “Few here will know the terror of this cultivator! Raise a toast, I say, if you value limbs and treasures!”

Nine hands remained on the table, upon sweetened buns or other assorted eatings. Arunima held position to the master’s right, with Wei distanced further some few seats away. But a range of looks extended from there, in no small range of faces.

An axe-wielder with a skeletal [Spirit Lizard]. A woman with a [Spirit Carp] not unlike Long’s golden fish. Three fan-toting strategists, their faces hitherto unmet by Fu, despite their similarity. Another [Serpent] cultivator, no doubt a distant senior.

Shaokang, and his monstrous Bond. He raised his chin in place of a glass, the liquid within untouched.

Fu put an adequate bow towards his host, and took precise steps before sitting at the table’s furthest end.

“Young Eighty Second was most diligent in her counters, as if the Heavens had aligned to gift her foresight. Why, you should regale us with your strategy, as victor and inheritor both,” suggested [An Array in One Hand].

Arumina dabbed at her mouth demurely. “I would not speak so pridefully when I stand among nine others of matching skill. My ploys are lacking in the presence of a master such as you.”

Their host appeared disappointed. “No, no. One must take pride in their accomplishments! But if my newest disciple wishes to maintain her grace, she shall have it.”

Her personality shifts as the tides do. I hope she holds no connection to the Clouded Court Squads, for her subterfuge is great.

“Yet… I would offer a boon beyond this lacking tea. A recounting, as I have observed. How much you learn, that is up to you all,” he continued. “The young Eighty Second sealed her victory with adaptability and prediction, something beyond the scriptures that each of you no doubt employ. To name a thing is not to know it.”

This was met with nods.

“Arumina, I will say to you thus- a time will come when advantage cannot be held in connections, in wealth or resources. A test wherein personal strength is all that might clear the skies,” he intoned, each word descending deeper until his next utterance came as a rumbling basso profundo. “No fish grows fat within the shoal. No tree stands li above its forested brethren.”

The Vajra became awash with golden characters, and shed all appearance of feigned propriety. She merely tensed, and in queer reply, stole a sip as fresh tea was poured in the cup before her.

[An Array in One Hand] doing so personally.

Furthering the oddity, the cultivator continued his talks with each of the competitors. A point made, a wisdom shared, and an [Epiphany] granted for each that may well have shored up their inadequacies were Fu able to place them.

To dispense insight with such ease. Even if droplets… this man must be a great spring, to grant so varied an answer in each.

“...on one leg, if it becomes crooked,” he finished, ending at the man to Fu’s side. The same gratitude was given in a sharing of cups, leaving him to fall into idle thought.

This held rapt attention at first, though swiftly proved too great an ordeal for the cultivators. For each in turn soon lulled into contemplation.

“Fu Gao,” spoke [An Array in One Hand], having stalked to the table’s end. “The former half of your performance was a grand display. Instinctual. Yet the latter was plagued by wasted steps. To command a force externally, yes, the paralysation of scouting and reconnaissance- The indecision was clear in you. Bolstered by your juniors, and with a means to delegate: this weakness is solved.”

Fu nodded appreciatively. This master had cut through the crux of the issue. “I will take this to heart, esteemed venerable.”

Ah. That lacked arrogance.

Hushi signalled that none had noticed, and so his eyes remained on at the master’s robes. A lowered gaze as not to infer disrespect.

“Lightning does not waver, Fu Gao. Do all at the right time, and one stroke will appear as three.”

The profundity of [An Array in One Hand’s] words rang hollow. Fu knew not why, for any words to broaden his cultivation were welcome. Yet he felt his ears deafen. His [Spirit] perhaps, or [Dantian].

Where an abundance of [Dao] had stained the air gold behind, his own space was absent.

No doubt giving cause for the hand upon his shoulder, where aged fingers clamped tight aside a pouring kettle. “Unfortunate,” mused the master. “But not all are open to greatness.”

Prickles surfaced across Fu’s skin. As though a fell [Winter] had taken root in his very bones. But he dared to look, despite the potency of [Poison Qi] that flooded his cup.

First to the master, and to the predation he exuded. A look that none needed the Heavens to divine, for his hand spoke of a mountain’s weight, and his stare that of eternity. Of the patience there that told he would not accept a denial of this drink.

Then, to his competitors. From Arunima to Shaokang. No ponderous look nor lotus position adopted, but a slack-jawed slumber. Induced by the hospitality that his [Hundred Immunities Fruit] would soon face.

“I extend my gratitude, despite such shortcomings,” said Fu, and shifted his gaze from the immortal.

Sipping, to set his world ablaze.