Senior Gao Fu, herein lies the best estimations.

(Red)

Cultivators. Caste.

From compiled accounts those that comprise these ranks are of low cultivation and talent, resting at early [Foundation Realm] with no observable Martial talent or [Dao]. (High Likelihood)

Observations have placed all upon the Path of [Body]. (Middle Likelihood)

Social roles are akin to the indentured servants of the Clear Sky Empire, bound with strict regulations ascribing to manual labour. These roles come in variety, but are interspersed with sparse writings on mortals of which there are few in our travelled realms thus far. (Truth)

Imperial Law enacts restrictions on these cultivators. Curfew, possessions, freedom of travel, basic sustenance, and allusions to procreation and the ban thereof. (Truth)

None among their count are of [Spring] or share heritage within the One Hundred and Eight Seeking Vajra. Numbered, or no. (Truth)

Marches of Red.

Mortal equivalent realms, wherein the population is predominantly ‘Red’ and oversight is given to those of higher castes. (Truth)

Ambient Qi Density is that of poorer regions of the [Clear Sky Empire]. (High Likelihood).

Resulting from the previous, accounts of the [Spirit Beasts] within are scattered, yet rest at an average of peak [Foundation Realm]. (High Likelihood).

The Marches of Red’s juxtaposition within the [True Orchid Path] fragment has no visible intersections with the main [True Orchid Path], and may well lie far from the true clutch and weight of Imperial control. [High Likelihood].

“Report: Red,” - Disciple Wen Pinxiu of the Wayward Winds.

The current realm.

Pinxiu stood at Fu’s side, the [True Orchid Path] fragment in palm. Exchanged between four so all might glean the same characters.

Fu crossed the threshold.

Zhu held notes of plum. His own were teal and granite. Here, the evocation was of Udvah, of that same dull violet that Mangalam’s fleshy skin held. For it swarmed Fu’s vision as he leapt through the [Paifang], arriving with the [True Orchid Path] fragment in hand.

“The distance, Brother,” he began, concerned for the bloat of strain upon Udvah’s furrowed features.

This was met with an ushering hand, and a second reading of [Ink] before the pair stumbled to their original direction.

Much of the weight was caught by Udvah’s gun, and Aarushi’s tender grip. Her slender arm caught his, and to Fu’s surprise a blush rose in place of evident pain.

“Amituofo, sister Aarushi,” he coughed, spreading a manic grin.

Fu paid half attention, more intent on the violet mark of Udvah’s soul as his [Constellation Seed] faded from view. The visible effect perhaps, if not the… impression. What lights and Qi then warbled at the threshold had returned to a kaleidoscope of energy, betraying to none that something might be amiss.

Of his heads, Pinxiu stole forth. “What fascination. The implications of this, seniors, sisters- Brother Udvah’s [Constellation Seed] has connected two [Paifang] across various [Mystic Realms] without the need to tread between. To use his talent of marking the gate within Realm 14,511 with the designation of head and that of the gate here, in Realm 26,940 with the designation of toe, means that we have eliminated-” with haste, her [Spirit Ants] splayed the [True Orchid Fragment] so the constellation map within might be read. “-the need for traversing two entire [Mystic Realms].”

Hushi furrowed his approximation of a brow.

Indeed, brother. Udvah spoke true of chaos. Much happens and only half a day has passed since Anfang’s… inauguration.

More words flew from the erratic Pinxiu’s mouth, and had flown in his moment of inner thought. “-that senior Udvah’s mastery of the [Boundless Dao] was so profound. An assumption would place [Bloodline] or [Heritage] technique as its root,” she finished. Only to begin again. “To position twin designations with flexibility of movement, and that doing so does not erase the other. Senior Gao Fu, the acquisition of materials will fall under less scrutiny now than ever, should these methods be used to mask our passage.”

At this [Paifang’s] mouth, Fu enforced quiet. No crass call, but a gentle palm that ceased Pinxiu’s flapping gums and the sour words primed to fly from Anfang’s impatient glare.

The current [Mystic Realm], this 26,940th land of their Abundant foe- it recalled much of the [Twilight Lotus Expanse]. Crescents comprised the firmament in the thousands, bathed in celestial greens and blues, all shattered remnants of once-moons now adrift in the endless expanse above.

“This [Mystic Realm] holds a [Martial Profundity],” he mused, stroking his whisker. “Queer, for such sights are inspiring, no? Insight to myriad [Dao] can be found in these single glances, should one seek it. Our position however, does not require it.”

“Senior Gao, apologies, this sixty-first rate disciple would ask on your meaning,” said Aarushi, cutting a small exchange of [Life Qi] from Udvah now that colour had returned to his cheeks.

Shuidi took his meaning, and rose taller to pinch towards distant lights. Those that blazed yellow without ambiguity.

Gratitude, sister.

“It is that the rigidity of this Empire might play against their training. A fool guesses, this much I will say until the seas run dry, yet the cultivators of Yellow are perhaps, confined, where the Wayward Winds are not. If we seek the [Dao], we will travel to their lands that afford it. Treasures, the same. [Spirit Cores] and techniques,” he offered. “And so I offer apologies once more.”

Of all gathered, Anfang stirred most. Indignant, as her [Spirit Spider] caressed the litany of cuts from her previous training.

“Before I had sought a March of Red. A land of [Foundation Realm] cultivator that would in turn serve as the Wayward Winds’ foundation. Brother Udvah’s talent assures me this course was incorrect.”

Pinxiu’s [Spirit Ants] bridged from her, displaying the [True Orchid Path] expectantly. “Our own apologies are offered, senior. Information has yet to be collected from the outlying realms.”

“How could it be, when the Wayward Winds are infants?” he smiled, charting path through the constellations displayed.

From their star, through ten connections. Four. Nine. Seven. East and north as if such concepts applied to the Heavens’ boundless nature, and on. Through each line he gleaned more, and less in turn.

Shuidi impressed that he should rest, soon, if his thoughts had become so tangled. Yet her pincers trembled in anticipation, and set forth a hazy image of her shell. A grand thing, in the flash that appeared within Fu’s mind’s eye. Some bastion of granite into which might be withdrawn like his [Dao], fielding no entrance nor exit.

A place with no entrances. No, a {Mystic Realm] with no entrances save for…

“Disciple Pinxiu, my mind goes to two places. Further tests and such. But if it is no trouble, I would have this [True Orchid Path] fragment widen. The scope is limited, and I wish you to find a stretch of realms that fit what I have in mind.”

The scholarly woman bowed several times in quick succession. “Further fascination. Senior Gao Fu’s mind is a delight,” she said. “In a web that resides at a minimum of twenty seven thousand, there is doubtless what you need within.”

Fu nodded gravely, as he could not see it within the fragment.

The [Dao Oath] will be tested here, Hushi, Shuidi. How best are we to explain the course when even secrets hold secrets?

He bid them go with a bow, which had all depart up the Warship’s bridge thereafter. His hands, however, made to block the Heavens.

“Amituofo. Riddles enough to confuse a daoist,” smiled Udvah.

“You think so?” Fu sighed. “It is purposeful, as I am uncertain of this. Grand things, and surely noticeable if it bears fruit. Was my meaning so unclear?”

Mangalam croaked wryly, to which Hushi impressed mirth.

But in place of speech, Fu directed the Vajra’s stalwart gaze skyward. To streams of celestial light and profound detritus. There, he cupped his hands so that a loose dozen diamonds glinted where his hands did not block all else.

“We have experienced little of these Marches. Red, Orange or otherwise. Fortune has not allowed us to walk among them and glean more. News of serpents, if any, cannot reach us this way, nor occurrences in the Empire of Abundant [Spring]. But if your [Shaving of the First Gate] allows it, might we not shrink the potential danger?”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Udvah cupped his own hands high, arching a brow. “A March of Serpents, yes? Amituofo. A good snake is a good colour.”

🀦

“This one would not deny the joy of it.”

Within his chambers, Fu stroked his moustache.

Nothing.

Palm to the ceiling, and with immense focus, [Air Qi] manifested. A localised draft, more akin to the breaking of wind after the over-consumption of peaches than the Heaven’s wrath. Then, in turn, moisture spilled as if the overturning of a small goblet.

Moistening his hanfu.

To have techniques inscribed upon [Ink] was a measure of a [Prowess], be that foundational, [Initiate], [False Imitation] or any level of merit beyond. Both Martial paths he followed had progressed thus far, for the [Wind Phantom Strides] and his [Stifling Stream Revolutions] rested at such a stage.

All three tomes were laid before him now, with the latest addendum of the [Three Wisps from Breath] splayed rightmost.

“Describe an act known best, young Gao Fu.” Outwith the [Conception Vessel], the Old One’s voice yet thundered.

“All acts I know best are dishonourable to mention before you, old master. It would be poor to describe how I might gut fish or begin a stew.”

The catfish impressed mirth. “A comparison to beasts dispossessing of [Spirituality]. Poorer yet. Bear such things in mind.”

Through their link both soul’s emotions were clear, yet Fu still offered small apologies before following the instructions. Respectfully, he settled on broth. “My stove would first be lit, and the flames would need to be sufficient. The catch would be cleaned, chunked and set to…”

This is not what he asks.

“Then Gao Fu knows order. Sequence. Few light stoves and chunk with one hand. Always you hold caution, why not now?”

Fu took his meaning.

“Apologies, old master. I hope this was not perceived as hubris, it has simply been an age since last I focused upon my own [Clouded Ghost Arts],” he said, and paused. “No. Indeed I am foolish.”

So saying, he cast it aside to have his [Core] flow unrestrained.

Shuidi impressed the motions she had memorised, criticised and held back from improving on. Her thoughts were of strange mockery, for a beast of [Mist] such as she required no external source to wind her energy this way.

Hers merely did.

“There is talent and there is not. The Path is all that matters.”

Indeed, Fu was in the latter camp and held no shame to admit it.

“Recite.”

“The first Wisp draws outwith, matching lungs to all else…” Here Fu nourished himself in equal parts [Air Qi] and [Water Qi], utilising [Pull] to suffuse his chest-

A count of nine tranfuses this, having breath become blood and blood nourish skin.

The process repeated, and Fu held his count for nine as the tome instructed. He felt the [Mist Qi] composites surface in his palm, and the absence where this technique wished to force more from his empty socket.

Wet Qi coursed into the space below, extending until he saw the materialisation of rough and cloudy sabre form. Namely, for the Sect to which this tome belonged. But Shuidi imparted her guidance here, as this first step to be engraved upon his [Ink] could not be inscribed incorrectly.

His chain appeared, now snug in his palm so that the coalescing [Mist Qi] ensnared its length and grew proportional. A rough, intangible cladding that snaked until each link was coated.

Fu’s [Inner Qi] was not endangered by this strain, but the act of constraining the [Mist Qi] upon his chain was a toll, even now as he rotated it lightly. This minor shift enough to increase the difficulty by such a degree that sweat pooled on his brow.

One rotation became ten, and twenty. Rhythmic strikes drawn from his [Wind Phantom Strides] that fell ineffectually to the floor at the end of each extension, loudly. But he maintained, and minorly, found the tightening of this external force ever so minorly bearable.

He allowed the mist to shed, wiping moisture from the brim of his douli. “Poor. But no man reaches Heaven in a single bound.”

A thundering grunt sounded from the Old One.

The vexation, however, piqued Fu’s interest. In so, he repeated the process a single time with his [Clouded Ghost Arts] empowered. A fool’s answer returned, for the outcome was known. What [Mist Qi] he had manifested sprayed like spittle.

“Three Paths to mastery within the [Clouded Ghost Arts], and we have only touched that of Body,” Fu nodded. “Once we glean insight into masking our [Three Wisps from Breath] then the external suppression of our Qi will reach across all aspects. Conjurations from [Half Cloud Step] and what else our cultivation may deliver.”

Hushi, a spectator where techniques of the [Mind] were concerned, unslung from a perch near the entrance. [Water Qi], and its higher form of [Mist] was untouchable to him. His practice was a rumination on the [Dao], another aspect that Fu so desired to act upon.

Other external facets called. Too many, he supposed, but of equal import.

Equilibrium. Let us not lean so deep into any that it risks another.

After care was taken to cleanse himself from the filth of his labours, Fu set himself as would befit a senior and entered the main vessel. Interior staircases made short work of his descent, even in proper gait as he thought he should be, and found him quietly in a shadowed doorframe.

Paused at words his [Senses] delivered. Or tone.

“You dare,” they rasped, and a punctuation came in smashed porcelain.

The canteen, some doors down.

[Half Cloud Step] was unnecessary to bolster his swiftness, and few thoughts evoked worries of trespassers or attack. No, another vexation had made its timely arrival.

Two.

“Disciple Gao Fu,” grunted Su Sai, strewn across where he wished to walk. Admittedly, a facet, if undesirable. Doubtless the sun-facing cultivator had placed himself here, knowing well his reason for visiting.

“Disciple Su Sai,” he retorted, facade calm. “A pleasant meeting.”

“Is that so?”

The brim of Fu’s douli lowered. “Is not any meeting of the Sect, pleasant? Unless disciple Su has issues he wishes to raise? Naturally the structure here is irregular and pale when weighed against the orthodox ways of Cloudy Serpents.”

“I’ve found Orthodox to ever be a poor choice of words, Fu. These circumstances, they’ve transcended factional politics, no? Distasteful to push an agenda when such impressionable minds roam the halls. ”

So disconnected from such matters, Fu stole a subtle breath to recall his meaning. The tension between [Gleeful Viper], [Thrice Clouded Boa] and all beneath.

“Apologies, then, for my words seem to paint legs on snakes where none were implied. I misspoke. It is a simple turn of phrase,” he said, offering no bow. “Gratitude, for your continued patience.”

A crimson spark flared in Sai’s iris. Indicative of a [Bloodline], perhaps, for Fu’s [Core] bristled at the sight.

“I’ve concerns,” Sai continued. Some secondary clatter rose from the room beyond, shrugged off by the man’s stillness. “Concerns on this structure.”

Shuidi’s distaste rose as Sai’s [Spirit Serpent] wound to his rear as a tail might. The thin serpent glared, imparting menace akin to the spark in its cultivator’s eye.

“Of what nature?”

“The initiates, and of promises,” he said. “They await a foundation that’s yet to come. I would rectify this.”

A bluntness close to Zhu. Yet my friend wears it better.

Fu felt a proposal mounting, or a scheme against him show its first teeth. “An offer greatly appreciated, Su Sai, however the initiates fall beneath the Clouded Court Squad’s jurisdiction. Training is my own responsibility.”

“The Empire of Abundant [Spring] falls outwith our Sect. Irregularity too. Isn’t this what you named it? For the sun to teach these youths, that’s an acceptable course,” he returned, and his [Spirit Serpent] rasped in affirmation. “Besides. The un-initiated hold no allegiance.”

Phantom pain rose not in Fu’s arm then, but his gut. Where once a jian had spilled him and his heart had turned to stone.

“Their presence is allegiance,” cut Fu.

A third clatter sounded behind.

Again, Sai disregarded it. That, and all comments. “I’ve seen no marks nor robes. Impetuous, pale shades of serpents that they are. None fall to any side. Sun or moon. Nor Gao Fu, do you hold more sway than I in matters regarding such.”

Narrow space beneath his douli’s brim shared that rising crimson spark. The pushing light in this man’s level gaze. Unparalleled taunting.

And yet- “A prideful comment might mark me as the moon,” Fu said, withholding inflection. “In representation. This conversation is shameful and loses much face.”

“Then I’m the sun, and a rejection matches the disrespect.”

Awaiting a fourth clatter to shred this tension, the corridor appeared to shrink. Breath, and how neither man shared it. Two opposing, [Core Formation] experts and the mastery of body that betrayed no details.

The stalemate was broken as Sai’s hanfu snapped. A half turn in which his suggestion nettled without a further glance. “Yan. Yin. At the precipice, these unmoulded minds should choose.” He strolled then, imperious as he sought the noise’s source.

Restraint, sister.

Fu urged Shuidi to calm as he chased, ensuring no haste was shown. Seven initiates decorated the scene he came upon. Those of martial belonging crowded about a single bench in this room that held many. Stained bowls before them, sauce-thick rice spilled thereby.

Then Aarushi’s second, Rivaan knelt, red-faced as he tended to the scalded skin of an alchemical initiate on knees aside them.

“Senior Su Sai,” finished the first greeting.

A round that began again at Fu’s entry. “Senior Gao Fu!”

Was thunder not a facet of clouds? If so, Fu became the promise of it. “What is this?” - his first rumble.

The first to speak was a nameless fool. One of note, for he had accompanied Fu’s first venture against the red-accompanied wagon some [Mystic Realm’s] prior. Shameless then as he was now.

“Senior, a minor celebration. This initiate has opened another [Meridian] that he may better serve your wishes!” He stood among peers, gleeful as his [Spirit Serpent] was.

Never did they consider those on the floor.

“Initiate Rivaan,” Fu seethed, arriving the doctor potentate to his side. “Report.”

“The-” Rivaan swept a sideward look to the stained alchemist. “The initiate’s cooking was not deemed as suitable for such an accomplishment. It was felt that her efforts were poor, and no better than prior meals.”

Suitable. Accomplishment. Prior meals.

Su Sai’s presence was palpable, as if a predatory beast loomed ten paces distant.

Vials blurred through Fu’s palms, anointing his [Hundred Poisons Synthesis] the moment flesh met the foolish martial initiate’s cheek. A single grace might well have saved his target from such a fate, yet this spluttered before contact was even made.

The fool’s [Qi Suppression] was barely maintained without intervention.

A component of his hitherto untouched [Constitution] refinement pasted across the initiate’s face as Fu moved on. His pace, menacing, as he poisoned each of the martial initiates in turn. “Accomplishment. What accomplishment is this?” he rasped. “To belittle your fellows? What standing do any here have to act in such a manner? You fools view the sky from the bottom of a well.”

The cohort of initiates paled, and he saw how his laxity had allowed this. For now the children bowed in supplication: their [Spirit Beasts] timid and tail-tucked.

“Initiate Rivaan, tend to your fellow. You alone succeed where others bore witness. A righteous soul,” he continued. “Those who remain, heed this. The [Innate Soul Impacting Bile] now taints your [Dantian]. A drop now, and more for every sunrise that your [Qi Suppression] is not perfected. More for every slight against your fellows, for each misstep. See then the accomplishment you have attained.”

Coldly, he turned.

“A thousand apologies-” chased his exit, spurned, for their source held no merit in listening to. Though further steps simmered Fu, grasping him back from the edge of true anger. As if a pressure receded as his distance to the room grew.

Or- pain flared in the phantom rawness of his tortured finger -perhaps it receded as sparks of crimson no longer bore their weight upon him.