…the Lotus Blade Sect remains predominantly within their [Mystic Realm], leaving much of the domain’s administration to lesser offices.

Entry through the [Paifang] follows the following [Law of Origin].

- Opening for a fluctuating length of time, around one stick of incense dependant on [Season], with [Summer] increasing to half this length again.

- The [Paifang] only briefly opens around either flash of twilight, dusk or dawn.

As collated, ingress is prohibited to any that do not bear their Sect’s robes, and loosely patrolled by those of the trial Sect or outer Sect.

(Addition) Most recent infiltration was a failure, but disciples reported that our foes have grown bold with the use of the [Allegiant Mind-Spirit Array] to weed out any dissidents.

Though the standard checkpoints still exist, once within, the general alertness of Lotus Blade disciples falls to lax parameters. It should be noted that,

- The inner disciples hold surprise inspections of the gatehouse each [Season].

- (Addition) As of the aforementioned infiltration, this has changed to a holding pattern wherein an inner disciple is always present at the [Paifang’s] opening.

For missions on the Sect’s inner outskirts, it has been discovered that inner disciples are prevalent around each of the major [Array] flags, and de-stabilisation is deemed a difficulty due to the sporadic nature and [Realm] of these foes.

An in depth record of previous encounters and roster lies within…

- “Twilight Lotus Expanse. Section Nine, Category: Infiltration”

The boundary between domains within the Four Corners Prefecture presided as a divisive line between streets. Stylised by the city’s occupants with depictions of their loyalty, icons of serpents that met patterns of the lotus and jian, all set within a trim of gold upon the paved pathways.

But so too did the collective ghosts feel the [Four Shaded Spear].

[Winter] within [Winter].

In a storefront there, deeper into the Lotus Blade Sect’s territory than the line of demarcation crossed some hours ago, Fu only tutted. “My ancestors would turn in their grave, alchemist! You dare offer such lacking products, to I, Bang Du Chen, of the Zephyrous Cicada Sect?”

“Honourable cultivator,” gasped the comely woman behind the counter. “This merchant assures you that our stock is the finest within this corner of the prefecture!”

It was then that the father approached. His hand, a harbour. “Forgive this humble merchant’s daughter, master cultivator! These noodles are perhaps, unfitting, to the Heavenly taste of which you are accustomed. A taste however- free of charge, is all I may offer you.”

“All?” sneered Fu.

“T… the tea is complimentary for one of your esteem, I did not think it worthy of note.”

A whisking sleeve snatched the tantalising bowl from the counter to be placed beneath Fu’s nose. His mouth watered at such a delicacy.

“Bah,” he sneered, smashing the bowl upon the floor.

Those within the noodle shop gasped with varying degrees of emotion, and so he spun, facing those who signalled their outrage.

Communal tables ran the establishment’s length, of which a great deal were now overturned. Flung by the experts who appeared as eager as scorned tigers to resolve this plight.

“You there, trash! You’d cause trouble for such a heavenly flower!”

“I will defend this merchant’s honour.”

“The face you have taken will be returned by my blade. Prepare to meet your ancestors!

Fu blurred his foot into the closest’s chest, sensing a cultivation on par with his own. The man crashed on impact, bowling over several meals to find himself heaped upon the floor. “You dare treat the Zephyrous Cicada Sect with such disrespect!”

“This Zephyrous Cicada Sect is no match for-” Three disgruntled voices became one, levying their own separate allegiances without naming what Fu sought. Though the lattermost was revealed as a member of the Warriors Association, which had some small use.

A muted response. But when will they deem it necessary to call for the Lotus Blade Sect?

If an escalation was in order, this was no place to do so. The confines were close, and death would draw more attention that was due. Yet.

Thus his blade remained hidden, and he drew on [Half Cloud Step] to whip into the Warriors Association cultivator. The man, imposing through a rough and poorly kempt attire, rounded with a matching [Might] to parry the kick.

His [Spirit Frog] swelled, shattering the table beneath, and both drove into a flurry of strikes against Fu.

If moving with an aim to kill, Fu knew he would be outmatched. But aggravation was his goal, having him loop, weave and prod to stoke the man’s passion.

These wonting brutes of the Warriors Association were often likened to talentless beasts. Failed cultivators that policed in place of the trained or ascended. To judge by appearance or association was a fool’s errand, but Fu hoped that this man played the part well.

“A hundred deaths are too good for you,” the man roared.

Fu suppressed his elation, as panic tingled. Another foe levered a kick at his back, sealing his movements now he had three attacks to face.

[Dao of Suffocation].

His [Intent] blew forth to stifle the assailants, driving hands to their throats.

Yet a “Cur!” surfaced from the Warriors Association cultivator, who broke through the difficulty within moments. It was here that he landed a devastating blow to Fu’s gut, shattering the noodle shop’s facade with a violent flight.

Splinters accompanied the impact as Fu was sent reeling into the street beyond, and he had but a heartbeat to recover as his foe lunged through the broken storefront’s frame to give chase. He found sparse purchase on the ice-draped pavings, half-scrambling against the unnatural depth of [Winter].

The scent of roasted chestnuts and post-[Seasonal] spices was stymied by a dousing of flames. A susurrus of hisses as vendors and citizens alike cleared space for the bout to continue. An early close for most, if an occupational hazard when opening their stalls so close to the nearby establishment.

His foe pulled free a bamboo rod of some making, and it moved from his robes to the air above. Hoisted, and swiftly activated to screech a flare of magenta skyward.

Fu’s eyes narrowed at the bursting of light as it settled, sustaining its height with no sign of descent. “The Warriors Association calls for aid so readily? And I, Bang Du Chen, am lowered to fighting such a coward!”

His foe wasted no time in pursuit, but his bloodlust was such that a combative, lethal [Killing Intent] met Fu first.

And, novelly, a replenishment of Qi.

[Soul Qi]. A component of [Intent] then? This I had not guessed.

The disparity between their [Realms] presented in the sheer pressure in this [Intent’s] proximity, which he swiftly stepped from. Yet each step was hounded, this wave- a crimson, surging thing.

It brought grains to the air, much to the hindrance of his vision.

Then the [Spirit Toad] blew into his stomach. A thunderous leap that smashed him into the closest wall. His breath left him, and this second blow smarted no small ache through his ribs.

He rolled into the closest alley’s mouth.

Backpedalling thereafter. In the space of one step the tide once more surfaced. Gushing: flooding as if loosed from a death god’s open wound to seek and drown him. The [Spirit Toad’s] girth consumed what remained of the alley, wall to wall, and advanced with a promise of violence.

“Tall talk of cowards, cur! For you flee as if seeking your mother’s teet!” cried the cultivator, and leapt to arrive before his Bond.

An ornate podao upon his shoulder.

For this, Fu gave but a nod.

Niwai descended on the toad in pantherine fashion. A sleekness to how she gouged sudden lines through this beast’s eye.

[Half Cloud Step] burrowed Fu’s knee into the cultivator at the moment her jian connected, exploiting the pain through resonance. The hostile [Intent] spluttered despite the insufficient [Might] behind his blow, forcing Fu to barrage a series of strikes to the man’s temple.

After six, the cultivator collapsed. The throes of his [Spirit Beast] however, turned to rampage. In short order a cascade of tiles, of stone, of wood and ill-positioned foodstuffs spilled across the alley at each pounding.

The [Dao of Wayward Breezes] put Fu to the street beyond, where he maintained a proud and unmolested demeanour despite the chaos.

Many eyes were upon him.

“Let this be a lesson,” he sneered. “Bang Du Chen will fall to no wind-blown weed. These Warriors Association fools truly do not know the immensity of Heaven and Earth!” With that, he paced the streets with even gait.

As he did until he was certain no eyes were upon him.

Vanishing to the rooftops not a minute before the fallen’s comrades emerged like rats from the woodwork, words of death upon their lips.

🀩

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Some time later, Zhu set aside one of many douli. The article was regifted, and summarily swallowed into Fu’s storage. “They’ve yet to stir. Only the Warriors Association have brought a response. As I’ve said, I’m not fully behind this plan.”

Those on the rooftop shifted, though Fu welcomed the man’s blatancy. “The days are short, and have grown shorter with the change in our parameters. The… addition. Forgive my confidence, but this is the only route I foresee working.”

A patrol of cultivators swept the streets below, wielding furor. Pivoting necks thrust either side in search of the alleys, nooks and shaded places.

Would one as noble as Bang Du Chen hide in such corners? Their hunt is waylaid by foolishness.

“The fools search for nobility within squalid crevices,” noted Niwai.

Fu nodded to hear his own thoughts shared, drawing a few words from pages he had memorised. “Only a threat of suitable level, or so great a disrespect that it brings shame upon the Lotus Blade Sect will have them act. They think these troubles beneath them.”

“Three noodle shops were struck within ideal distance of the [Paifang],” said Zhu. “Another four at a distance, by Fu. If this isn’t enough to rouse their disciples, we’ll have to escalate matters.”

“This Yin Linhua would ask why it must be noodle shops.” Six sets of eyes then fell upon her, and the gazes were barely discrepant between [Spirit Beast] and cultivator alike. She shrunk lower for it, seeming to wither. “A-a thousand apologies, seniors, this-”

“All noodle shops are cursed,” offered Niwai.

“Cursed,” spat Zhu.

“A mortal would know this, Linhua,” said Fu, for it was a truth that carried across station and generation. “I would expect, at least. But no memory is perfect, and no life is the same as the next. We use these stores as the trouble caused there is not irregular. It is believable, and will not bring others to question our allegiance.”

Five li distant, another flare rose above the skyline. Niwai snorted.

Tanshuai lifted from Zhu’s finger after what seemed to be several brief impressions and corresponding nods. “Those below speak of maintaining secrecy. They’d keep us hidden from the Lotus Blade Sect to protect their own reputation.”

As expected. Our break is over.

At Fu’s ascent, Zhu frowned. “No. Niwai’s sufficient company. With us both we should gain the Sect’s attention before long. We’d do better to have solid routes planned for the Elder’s new wishes.”

A fair point.

“I wish you well then,” he said, and dipped his douli. Both disciples were gone once it lifted back.

In the interest of remaining undetected, he had Linhua follow across further rooftops. This rid them of the sloping architecture’s scant protection and thrust forth a frigid gale. Fu’s [Teal Supple Physique], his lightness, had him pass with ease.

Linhua’s steps slightly crunched.

A second magenta flare rose to the east, and then a third due south. The order for reinforcement already muddled.

But their confusion granted some small comfort, and after a small span of minutes Fu motioned to stop amongst the belfry of a pagoda. It put them under the scrutiny of the Adamantine View, for great narrowed eyes were cast on the structure’s side.

Low as to avoid the wind, Fu expanded his [Senses].

“Ascetics below,” came his whisper. “Their mantra reaches even through these dozen floors.”

The woman tried to dip in acknowledgement, and immediately found herself scrambling for a handhold. “This Yin Linhua gives gratitude for the senior’s observation.”

Fu spent a minor frown, but ignored the gratuity. Instead he put his thoughts to solid routes, as Zhu had mentioned, and perhaps, not-so-absently stroked his moustache. Then he drew one article of many from his ring.

A length of paper, seeping with talismanic script. Vertical stripes of characters that ran illegibly down its front. No taste of Qi evident.

Yet Fu’s eyes burned to see it.

The inadequacies where inscriptions might have better been lain. Cross-sections of juvenile script, or the redundant scribe work that wasted Qi for no additional effect.

Such knowledge, such [Intermediary Wisdom], far surpassed the base signals he gained when viewing a technique of scrying an alchemical component. Yet the instinctual impressions had made him no [Array] master, as he had first discovered when [Of Perennial Shade’s] ghost had transferred him these.

No, he merely felt the flaws. Not how to replicate or restore them, nor how to bolster and correct it.

Yet still, a plan was formed around it.

Ahead, Linhua skited towards the edge. Her path of [Mind], a lacking thing to prevent the tinge of pink upon her fingertips where cold now gnawed.

“You are distracted, sister Linhua,” he said.

Hushi impressed a certain pity for the girl, and a strange reminiscence. With a descent, he drew a blanket free from Fu’s spatial ring and jetted to drape it across her shoulders.

“This Yin Linhua…” Eyes widened in panic, as if recalling a lesson. “I forget so much, senior, and beg for forgiveness. I am no diligent disciple, as Ni… as… yes. I spell our ruin, senior. I know it. Were it my three seniors alone…”

A great swathe of the surrounding domain was immersed in the daoists’ mantra- a throaty, harmonic rumble. As such, a few poorly chosen words were not among his priorities.

“Habits are cobwebs at first, and cables thereafter. Unlearning often takes as much time as learning. If it eases your time: none among our squad expect an address such as you give. Respect can be given in other ways.”

Another flare screamed into the nearby skies, and Linhua vibrated with fear.

Surely the Lotus Blade Sect will take note. It has become a great disturbance.

“Sister Linhua,” he continued. “Might you use your [Art]?”

The same conjuration of [Sound Qi] blanketed their area, and as it disappeared beneath the [Clouded Ghost Arts] suppression, Fu only detected the initial burst. Though it was at Zhu’s musing that Linhua’s technique had been tweaked.

To push the silence out while maintaining sound within, which the disciple had adjusted to with unexpected ease.

Fu drew free his previous night’s letter. “Zhu did not explain the change, did he?”

“Senior Zhu spoke briefly on a second objective. To infiltrate the Lotus Blade Sect’s weapon hall and activate the talismans granted by Elder [Of Perennial Shade].”

Her vulnerability is no act. But many faces are worn by my fellows.

He would not reveal much.

Yet he swiftly sifted through Grandmother Hua’s letter. ‘...at our door. Ramblings of masters and [Dao Oaths]... tithes owed and honour secured… boldness does not suit you, nor is it wanted… not just this unseemly Shaokang, but his sister… my coffers are not eternal, nor do they reach… the [Mystic Realm] I had you… ’

None is relevant, yet all is telling.

“The Elder’s favour does not come cheaply,” he finally said, stowing the letter away. “Never would I name myself as the largest fish, but these draw the most hooks - no?”

“As you say, senior,” she returned, head hung. “Ah! As your wisdom explains. This Yin Linhua knows how far upon the boundless path her seniors stand, and such a distance between us is fathomless!”

“Perhaps. But I merely wish to state that it is not you that lacks, sister Linhua. Any who pass initiation are judged worthy. It is our situation, brought on by the Elder’s notice that is… less suiting. This sea of fire and blades.”

It was then that the newfound brooch reacted with subtle nature, akin to the Qi-suppressed qualities of his own spatial ring. Through it, pinned upon an internal fold of robe, came a pulse.

In tandem, the pair looked west. A keen sense of their fellow disciples’ positions following thereafter.

“Gather yourself, sister,” Fu stated, and disappeared his blanket as it was handed back. “The Lotus Blade Sect has come.”

🀩

Two cultivators set through the crowd, parting cultivators and the unaffiliated as though they were a tide to recede.

Sleeveless hanfu gave way to a trail of skirts at their legs, all coloured in joyous green. A feminine appearance, or perhaps a graceful one, if Sect uniforms were to be compared. Those clad within shared such a demeanour, and glided in step.

Hilts upon their belts, worn open and proud.

Fu’s rote memorisation continued as he spectated, though he named himself a fool for such distraction.

Three hundred paces north, two hundred and thirteen east, one floor lower, ninety six paces beyond until the entrance is revealed. An [Earthly Retribution Seal Array] covers the door.

“Bang Du Chen sits within,” traded one of the Warriors Association, speaking to the pair that merely advanced upon the store. “Truly, we did not wish to burden the Lotus Blade Sect. If you would allow me…”

The pair’s very presence quashed his protests.

At ten strides to the storefront’s entrance, the first, a woman of [Spirit Swallow] partnership drew her jian. “We, humble outer disciples of the venerable Lotus Blade Sect arrive to end the discourse you sow in our territory. Make yourself known, cultivator Bang, and your punishment will be less severe!”

A perimeter ring ran between streets, and put a hundred eyes upon the scene.

The establishment in question was a meagre, two storied affair, and a [Half Cloud Step] took Fu inside from the nearby rooftop. Fate had placed these disciples as early [Core Formation], or peak [Foundation Realm], and with the inability shown by these Warriors Association members, he suspected none might hold a chance of spying him.

From here, he dropped, and dropped again, landing amidst a standard array of furniture for such an establishment.

An impatient Zhu was at its centre, obscured some few steps from the doorway. “The rice is cooked.”

Fu only nodded, and the pair disrobed to shift uniforms. His companion’s [Art] eliminated the need for such pageantry, and besides this, Zhu held little love for such tactics.

“Disciples of both sexes,” Fu said. “The second variation then. Fortunate, though not the most ideal of circumstances. Niwai, the other will fall to you. Remember. No blood.”

Hidden in the eaves above, he saw her braid flick in affirmation.

Then did Bang Du Chen stride into the open. “Lotus Blade Sect. Should I have heard of such a paltry group?”

But the pair ahead proved to be of even temperament, and did not rise to the challenge. “It is said that the smallest dogs bark the loudest,” retorted his opponent. “You will pay reparations to these citizens, and come quietly.”

Integrity. This is rare. But time runs afoul of us.

“You dare?” he called.

The woman looked saddened, but levelled her jian. “Cultivator Bang, it seems my blade must be used to have you see reason. Draw your own, that some honour might be preserved.”

Fu repressed an urge to bow, and had the chain sling down from his sleeve. The most extravagant set that his trip to the bath house had awarded him. “Little girl, you have eyes but fail to see. Very well. Let none say that the great Bang Du Chen is unfair!”

The words of a fool. Let us hope they are convincing.

“Seven Steps of the Lotus Blade, First Step,” said the cultivator. With upturned palms, she contorted as if to dance. “Sun Stirs the Lotus!”

Clear as an opening technique, Fu saw no reason to let her continue. His chain lashed free, blurring to be countered by the jian. Dim light thrummed at each connection, matching the hue of his opponent’s robes.

Links wrapped around the blade with a view to snatch it from her grasp, but she slipped free, and dashed down the length of his chain. Another lash followed with the blunt end; a horizontal with his blade, ten exchanges and the woman severed more distance, twenty, and she was driven back.

Here was another Niwai, he mused, noting the clear skill held in practice.

Her motions were a making of years, intuiting where best to weave or parry, where to strike and advance.

The [Wind Phantom Strides] had met a suitable opponent indeed.

“Seven Steps of the Lotus Blade, Third Step,” she called, drawing a collective gasp from the surroundings.

“A talent, to have progressed while so young!” cried the crowd.

“The Lotus Blade Sect is venerated for a reason!” called another.

This commentary loudened the fray, and soon cheers rose in favour of his opponent. Though it would only solidify Fu’s intentions more.

Intermittent bursts of [Half Cloud Step] gauged the woman’s reactions. For the previous exchanges, this ten, and the further ten.

Fu would whip, and if countered - pour more Qi into his movements. A gradual rise wherein he found the point that she could not respond. And struck.

The [Dao of Wayward Breezes] drew on its previous [Reach], and became a winding serpent to ensnare the woman’s wrist. Timed as such so that her next strike aided in the process. It looped, taught, and Fu put himself in a mirror of this.

Chain to elbow, to shoulder and waist. He blurred to close the distance, and yanked amidst a suffusion of [Half Cloud Step].

His foe was met with a thunderous kick to the gut, and a dispelling of the [Dao] that shrivelled her bindings to have her crash in the intended direction.

Fu followed as she tumbled, and booted her further, and further again. His Qi burning with overuse to have her crash through the storefront’s window despite [Winter] shutters and thickened drapery.

Cries roared out to name him a villain, or honourless. The usual madness of crowds bolstered by hollow bravery, for curses flew loud as the second Lotus Blade Sect disciple drew his jian.

But Fu’s thoughts were only on how to proceed.

Death, or crippling?

Which would incense the Sect more?