Senior Gao Fu, herein are the estimates.

Of all candidates for the proposed “March of Serpents,” the Wayward Winds have identified fourteen ideal Imperial Realms.

The following considerations are noted.

* Senior Udvah’s ability concerning the [Constellation Seed].

(Note) As shared, the existence of such treasures is of paramount secrecy, and never to be named outside Senior Gao Fu’s conversation.

* The state of a [Paifang] when the exterior realms have been removed.

* What state of alert the Empire of Imperial [Spring] will descend into once the first process has begun.

* Observations on the speed of [Mystic Realm] destruction, and what effect the [Law of Origin] regarding [Grade] holds.

* Ability, and restriction imposed by the [Cultivation Realm] of both initiates and disciples, prohibiting the available [Trial] or theft where [Mystic Realm] closure is concerned.

“Proposal, March of Serpents,” by Wen Pinxiu.

The site of their previous troubles fled behind a traversed [Paifang]. Imperial Realm 340, of which Fu would soon return. So vast, or indeed, so myriad were the numbers titling the realms they passed that his memory could only be reinforced by the [Old One’s] recollection.

“[Imperial Realm 6,514],” came the thunder of memory, to which Fu could only give thanks.

Udvah’s realm. His task.

Ahead lay his own. A newfound land, and one to be irrevocably changed.

“[Imperial Realm 24,464],” his soul-partner delivered again.

Fu stowed the [True Orchid Path] fragment, for only madness would come by staring at it any longer. Instead he spread awe to the unnatural titan before them.

A temple of ribs, and hollowed skull. The beak, yawning, of a keenness that could sever the world should this carcass still move. What depths its body contained stretched a thousand li, so vast was the scale of this fallen creature.

This [Reliquary].

With a dull thrum, their smaller Warship descended. Xiong, diligent and quiet, poorly masked the effort his steering had caused. But no comments were passed as they broke through thinning clouds, the hull kept high so none below might glean them.

“When the stray orange below cranes his neck. What then?” nettled Su Sai.

Shuidi’s constant expansion of [Divine Sense] had her too weary to threaten, thus she simply impressed her loathing.

“To observe best practice is to assume all are already aware of our movements. But so too will erratic movements draw attention. We progress, as any other might.” Fu held muted interest in the uncountable hues below. Orange-stained streets that crowded avenues of yellow. “To act as fools, we might hope to meet resistance on par with the laxity of their Repositories. Corn-fed guards and greenhouse cultivators.”

Aarushi surfaced through a wisp of [Life Qi], leaving a refreshed Xiong behind. “This sixty-first rate disciple would share this hope. Yet a [Reliquary], for one to remain unclaimed as occurs across the [Mystic Realms] of the Clear Sky Empire, such a place of worth will surely field watchers.”

“As you say,” agreed Fu. “The nature, and contents, these transcend standard [Reliquaries]. So I ask you both to temper your will for what is to come.”

Xiong lowered the vessel’s bridge not twenty strides from the [Reliquary’s] lower beak. Ground, if bone, and presided above by a ceiling of its twin. Yet to follow this image of mouths, Fu marked the gatehouse ahead as its tongue and the plush carpets as flesh. Twin lengths, upon which the Wayward Winds followed yellow.

Not that of the orchid aside it.

To hold a path of such colour shows clear importance. Fitting, for the final [Reliquary] where our [Constellation Seed] is anchored.

Upon the yellow carpet, these three cultivators moved slow. A walk, with Aarushi in lead, wrapped in the finest yellow. Her Vajra heritage of use if Pinxiu’s reports held truth, for only she might pose as this Caste.

Su Sai paced in her wake, holding rhythm with Fu as diligent oranges. [Cores] unsuppressed.

“Honoured sister,” extended a greeting. One, from an emerging ten yellows that warded this entrance. Regimented steps placed them about the three, a corral of sheathed jian and menacing [Spirit Wolves] facing in.

Aarushi dismissed them, never breaking her stride.

“Honoured sister,” repeated the first, now authoritative. “By the grace of Emperor [Sixth Under Heaven], none are permitted entry to the [Reliquary]. Do not progress further until your intent is stated and your identity is known.”

How ten searching [Senses] then crawled upon him had Fu naked. To be so exposed as cultivation was checked ran against every ingrained instinct. From a stooped walk, proper as the situation deemed, he noted surprise upon the Yellows.

Our [Realm] is higher than mere orange. Will this irregularity cast suspicion, or reinforce Aarushi’s mask?

The central figure grew consternate. “Your intent, honoured sister?”

Cold silence.

Still the man searched, finding naught. Failing against the [Clouded Ghost Arts].

Aarushi stole then, a look. One reaped from her heritage of the [Sixty First]. Affronted, and ill-tempered. A scowl in one motion that stripped all certainty from her questioner.

“You must forgive this intrusion, but none stand above Imperial Law. These are mere formalities. If-” her look continued, choking this man’s words. “This humble guard begs forgiveness, knowing not his worth. If it is pleasing, I will alert the Guardian to your arrival.”

What followed was a dismissive hum.

With the Yellow at their fore, the gatehouse was breached. Their route followed the tongued avenue, where a few faceless buildings lined either side, then on, deeper towards the [Reliquary] proper and a second gatehouse.

“Venerable Guardian! This humble yellow brings visitors to your door!” came the exclamation, rousing a reaction.

Slight, for at this gate’s centre a shackled form rose. Qi constraints draped so thick upon the woman there that any might have spied a robe at first glance. But so say one thing of her, she was no mundane soul.

“Visitors,” she sounded, and her feathers bristled. This voice, as deep as the skies were unending.

Scarlet, dull treasures that lined the ridge of her eyes and where illuminated chains shifted to show bare wrists. An evocation came wherein Fu saw the Mistress, recalling Yunhan’s partner when her shape resembled human more than beast.

It was now that Aarushi bowed., unable to show indifference.

Unmade. Unforeseen. This is why caution prevails.

The falsehood of their entry was certain to be shattered by a Green. A Blue perhaps, or those True Imperials of orchid robe. Of all possibilities-

Fu Gao did not fret. Instead, his [Senses] danced through the [Dao of Wayward Breeze]. Inspecting. What currents and drafts loped down the [Reliquaries] innards were many, and Su Sai’s death was a fitting reward for mutiny.

Without douli, he inclined his neck, awaiting reply before his leap.

“Adequate,” returned the Guardian. “Thing of Yellow. Leave, lest your trespass bring about violent ends.”

Oh? What is this?

The Yellow’s footsteps were long faded before conversation arose.

“If deception was intended, would it not be wiser to forbid [Winter]?” she chided. “Yes, yes, but the same stands for all. [Summer]. [Autumn]. How I long to taste it.” Here her chain tightened, for the [Spirit Beast] transformed.

Each link of gold warped to accept this form, fastening around an emerging, slender neck, and ravelling to bind two blazing wings as she grew. A phoenix, now, with pastelles of sky-blue a-whorl within her plumage.

“Venerable Guardian, to look upon you is treasure enough,” began Aarushi, now recovered from stupor. “However these three cultivators seek access to the [Reliquary] that its trial might be endured.”

The screech that came next put tremors through the ground.

“Challenge, yes, yes. Honor-seeking acts. How unlike these [Spring]-tainted fools that chain and pervert,” she roared, having Fu turn to the ear-possessing Yellows. “The millenia since my last number five. Dormant, listless sleep, my only sustenance since then. And yet the souls before me are unready. Hatchlings upon the Path.”

Su Sai took a step. “We’ve no coloured dogs among us, but serpents.”

“Serpents, no, no. Why invoke meaning on this? Serpents,” tasted the phoenix. “Do worms and slugs not slither as they? Do not impress importance on a thing that holds none.”

An impression from Shuidi shared her joy.

Fu Gao smiled, allowing the sun-facing fool to shorten his own life. A fate soon delivered if the approach of Yellows continued.

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“I would take this trial despite it, great phoenix,” said Sai.

The secondary screech had all clutch their ears. “To what end? To request this is to request pointless [Tribulation].”

A breath of words was cut short from Su Sai as Fu Gao approached, head dipped. “To claim the [Constellation Seed] within and sever this [Mystic Realm] from the [True Orchid Path].”

Flames raged through the phoenix’s plumage, and ten thousand pinions incinerated the surroundings in entirety. A stream, or tide, so immense that the very air became scorched.

Then the Wayward Winds stood where naught but ashen structures did.

Yellows robes- the fragments of such, wafted. Dissipating specks fell, and all else was but scorched blackness in the wake of the phoenix’s blaze.

Emboldened, Shuidi crested her cultivator’s shoulder. Pincers together, she showed her deep and envious reverence.

“A lie, were any but [Winter’s] child here. Haste then, for swift wings are required,” spoke the phoenix.

“Such a show of majesty, it is sure to draw the unwanted,” suggested Fu Gao. A thought clad him in the [Clouded Ghost Arts], vanishing his presence as he continued. “Great phoenix, how best might we reach an accord?”

Aarushi’s [Spirit Lizard] scurried, drawing the fabric of her sleeve so it might mask how slack her jaw presented. Wide eyed, Su Sai’s response was a failed attempt at calm.

“An accord. This is struck by mere defiance.” The phoenix huffed, exhausted from her effort. “Yes, yes, indeed, you are of [Winter]. Rarer than a single plucking of my feathers, if the words of mortal fools are followed. If it is an accord you seek, then challenge is all I require. Lay waste to the farce this trial has become, and bring ruin to those that have perverted it.”

“Our goals align, then. Comrades, in that we hold no love for Empires of [Spring],” he said. “The Heavens have a hand in this, no?”

Shamefully restricted to the ground, the phoenix laboured in her strides. “All matters of [Karma] do, [Winter] one. Now, descend. Yes, yes, let feet steer you towards my freedom and end so these moon-touched fools might know their error.”

🀦

Chains held a weight behind eyes. Debt. Loss. Pain. Traumas were myriad- unlistable for their number.

It was no profound thought, and required no genius unrivalled beneath the Heavens to see what the blind might plainly: the constructs of gold upon this [Spirit Phoenix]. How they latched from the bowels of the [Reliquary’s] mighty innards, tethering it.

Gao Fu had seen more.

Hushi had resonated.

Shuidi needed not strain to find the resentment that impotence fostered.

The [Three Eyed Spying Array] still slumbered.

Swiftness was needed to combat the Imperials that would no doubt arrive to trouble them, and for this he walked ahead. Near in lead to the phoenix aside as it hobbled forth, venturing to where an end must be given their time travelled.

Minutes.

Hours.

The silence prevailed only until Aarushi’s boldness grew. “Venerable Phoenix, this sixty-first rate seeker dares to ask a thing, knowing she is unworthy to even walk in your great shadow.”

“Then ask on my shame, as you intend,” returned.

There was a sweep where the doctor potentate went prostrate, kowtowing with her skin to the ground. “Truly, [Sixth Under Heaven] is deplorable. A vileness and [Demon] to consider entrapping you, great phoenix. Your magnanimity was no doubt exploited, or some honourless tact was employed.”

Heat rose within the scarlet feathers. “No, [Summer’s] child, no. Much as time contorts truth, my peace is made. Millenia have scoured what [Heart Demons] might remain from pride. The folly was mine.”

Aarushi gave silence as her response.

“[Sixth Under Heaven’s] strength is his path. The great orchid chain. So terrible a construct, so profound. No thing beneath the Heavens is to be respected more, for no thing might rival its ingenuity. Not, I, who thought even diminished my power great enough to quell it.”

“Diminished, great phoenix?” gasped Aarushi. “There is no word less fitting for an existence such as you!” Her statements were punctuated with a bow, yet the woman’s grace made her efforts in keeping pace thereafter no unseemly thing.

“Diminished, yes, yes. Though tales of that are not tales of this. No, no, the [True Orchid Path] was my downfall, for [Spring] nourishes the Emperor and by our meeting he had perverted myriad realms to his [Season],” the phoenix set its gaze sidelong, and Fu Gao felt much weight. “Three is the sum of treasures you have reaped, [Winter’s] child. And through this a child might think themselves knowing. Of [Mystic Realms], of holes where the [Law of Origin] might be surpassed. Such thoughts are the first cracks upon a shell against your quarry.”

Shuidi surfaced, extending reverence. Her exchange, silent, and to be impressed later.

“Heaven’s secrets are not so easily traded, bold little beast” cut the immediate reply. “All you need know is his machination is sequence. His [True Orchid Path] forged what he sought, to bring [Spring] unending that his cultivation might be enriched and that his [Dao] could flourish. So it was that he corrupted the anchors of each realm to that of his own image, and in turn, the next effort required less.”

An anchor. The phoenix talks as though she is it, and not the [Constellation Seed]. That her corruption turned the [Mystic Realm] to his domain.

Fu Gao wished Su Sai might ask on this corruption so a fitting response might come.

The chance soon fled at the arrival of fresh scenery. How deep they had come was unknown, and it was not a structure that told of the [Reliquary’s] true start, but a crooked and filagree bone. An artefact of immense Qi and profundity, for his [Core] trembled as they neared what golden characters flowed across it.

Memories of the [Green Blight Valley] and the basins within that trial surfaced. How he and Long had given to receive.

Here the phoenix’s tethers began, wound about the length like a dock’s cleat. A clear pain, for the immense beast could scarcely look upon it.

“Your kindness knows no bounds, great phoenix,” bowed Aarushi. “To entrust all that you have shared. This sixty-first rate seeker extends boundless gratitude.”

“No, no, [Summer’s] child. All said is vengeance. That is the reach of my kindness. Now, swiftly, begin.”

🀦

It was no awakening, but Fu Gao started the moment his eyes opened. A [Spatial] change, distortion or transportation to another realm. He knew not, save that the [Reliquary’s] carcass had turned to mulberry fields.

Alone, serene, and a stretch to all horizons.

[Ink] had unfurled with previous trials, and so he observed, finding no sign of those he had entered with. Aarushi’s absence was a vexation, for her [Life Qi] and restorative [Arts] would counter the difficulty that was sure to come.

Su Sai’s absence- Truly, hope was an insubstantial meal.

Strange then, was how he felt the saucer in his hand. A pewter bowl, mundane to touch, and the basin of this same stone with shallow water within.

Shuidi was first to move, but could not fathom the contents. Liquid without Qi, as if stripped of all [Spirituality]. But it mattered not as Fu Gao filled the bowl, musing that this simplest of actions was the most obvious to take.

The mulberry fields distorted.

First in the second basin’s appearance, distant, where even a cultivator’s eyes might strain to see, and second in the malefic blaze of grey set ahead. It appeared with a great hum, shrouding forms that now raced across the fields ahead with an intent to reach him.

“[Spirit Insects]. A strange trial,” he regarded. “No destination is reached without first taking a step.”

So saying, Fu Gao walked. The pewter bowl’s contents sloshed with these steps, if too shallow to reach the lip. [Control] went far in this, for his douli was drawn and the bowl was set atop its brim.

In moments, his chain lashed.

The thrum of [Spirit Insects] had swarmed with worrying swiftness, crossing large swathes in a span of minutes. Violent creatures, palm-sized flies that rushed and buzzed about him within their corona of grey.

Flames, he knew, for how they seared. Beings of this [Affinity] in totality, as the mundane lashes from his chain passed through flesh and wing as if it was insubstantial.

An old technique, Hushi’s arms became clad in [Air Qi], mirrored by Shuidi’s swift conjuration of mist. These manifestations made short work then, able to be touched by the energy that each attack contained.

“An exercise in [Resilience] and [Capacity]. Come, swifter,” he said when the swarm had been dispatched, breaking into a run. “We must-”

While a mere vexation, the flies’ heat had taken a toll. An evident space within the bowl where the water had lessened. Again he set eyes upon the distant basin, calling upon [Half Cloud Step] to empower his strides.

“The [Ink] used the words ‘lost’, ‘holds’ and ‘remain’.”

Hushi directed his cultivator to protection, impressing that the bowl’s contents should become his only priority. In this Shuidi agreed, taking a perch upon Fu Gao’s shoulder as another blaze of grey surfaced in the fields ahead.

The same, in no variety.

Combined efforts of the [Wind Phantom Strides] and his partners made short work of the second swarm, lashing lengths that blurred Hushi from insect to insect. So it was for the third to fifth, and seventh to ninth, changing only when the second basin was reached.

Fu Gao dipped, and curiously, the pewter bowl drew no more liquid despite how the basin’s contents vanished in the act. It was exchanged, this he felt as the weight of all that had spilled, replaced, but no further.

Two plumes thrummed about a third basin, now revealed. Gray blazes to herald the frantic beat of many wings.

Opportunity.

When the next lashes met these foes, [Mist Qi] poured. The acrobatic motions of his techniques did not accompany them, no leaps nor inversions for the liquid’s sake, but compensated whips that drew his focus.

[Three Wisps from Breath: First Breath].

[Inner Qi] manifested down the length of his chain, enveloping that his energy could coat and solidify. His [Affinity] was no inherent bane. It harmed none to be brushed by mist. Kissed and moistened.

Yet his cladding added physicality to the chain, having it behave as it should.

It allowed slaughter between the three, and the swift dismissal of foes. Fu Gao found the drain on his reserves to be steady, yet kept mindful of the [Spirit Cores] within his pouch for when it ran dry.

Ten strides before the third basin, a scent flared his nostrils. Thus he turned to see the blaze left in their wake. Shuidi’s [Senses] had not discovered it amidst the burning flies and their pungent, scorched flavouring.

But now- “Brother,” he directed, retrieving the bowl from his douli.

Ambient warmth had shrivelled its contents, even without the touch of [Spirit Flies]. Indeed, the hitherto untouched fields were stained with graying flame, and it had caught swiftly. Several li, if Fu Gao might trust his eyes.

“Hushi, this realm-”

Fu Gao blurred, and the bowl clattered into the basin. The half-evaporated liquids spilled further.

His fist - his solitary fist - which drew notes of concern, ensnared a diminutive [Spirit Beast]. A hermit crab of granite hue that now lacerated his palm with conjurations of [Water Qi]. “Speak, beast. Lest you wish to be crippled. Why are you upon us?”

Hushi, stalwart, descended to impose his [Intent] on the trespasser.

[Spirit Flies] rose in the middle distance, carrying a blaze that cast embers beyond. Their image held importance, but Fu Gao would address the pathetic thing in his clutches first.

Then came an impression, and a second conjuration from the [Spirit Crab]. Force enough to have his palm soak crimson.

“Trickery. Hushi, this is an illusion such as Cheng Rao would affect. But he has not discovered us. Then, perhaps an attack of the Sepulchral Saber Sect? See there, the smoke,” he spat. Fu Gao turned to the basin, having Hushi pluck a half-filled bowl for inspection.

Loss. What is this loss?

Some sensation of emptiness crept forth as his gaze went to the bowl. An inner thing that resonated through the [Spirit Crab] in concert.

“This holds meaning,” he said. The thrum of wings drew closer. “If only we could recall what that is.”