(Orange)

Cultivators. Caste.

Of a similarity with Red, those that comprise these ranks are of low cultivation and talent, if afforded higher benefits than the lowest Caste.

Martial experts within this spectrum appear to rest between peak [Foundation Realm] and early [Core Formation] with small access to techniques comparable to those of Clear Sky Empire Sects. (High Likelihood)

Observations have a definitive split between the Path of [Body] and that of [Mind]. (Low to Middle Likelihood)

[Spirit Beasts] appear to have more aggressive species than that of Red, who have been observed to predominately field cattle or beasts of burden. Multiple instances of meat-eating [Spirit Beasts] are accounted for, though not outwith a similar list of restrictions. (Truth)

The same Imperial Law enacts restrictions on these cultivators, if more lenient than that of their Red underlings. 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 Orange).

[Foundation Grade] or early [Core Formation Grade] realms. The population within shares many similarities with that of Red, yet the oversight of such realms is granted to Yellow Caste cultivators. (Truth)

Ambient Qi Density is comparably poor when placed against smaller regions of the [Clear Sky Empire]. Projected growth rates for cultivation mirror this, and might be measured on a standard of one-thousand degree tribuatory lord-doms. (High Likelihood).

The function of these realms hold higher status industries than the primary resource collection that Marches of Red are directed towards, and yet their nature does not exclude the possibility that ‘Red’ operations occur in the same realm. Simply in tandem. (Truth)

Resulting from the previous, accounts of the [Spirit Beasts] within such Orange realms are scattered, yet fall into the full spectrum of [Core Formation] for Imperial suppression has its limits where monitoring is concerned. (High Likelihood).

The Marches of Orange’s juxtaposition within the [True Orchid Path] fragment has closer intersections with the main [True Orchid Path] than its lower counterpart of Red, and multiple instances have been recorded wherein a mere dozen or so leaps might connect.

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

The Clouded Court’s processes had been bastardised. Where millenia of tradition had honed initiation and inauguration, Fu had spat upon them, convoluting what meaning and reasoning had it this way.

If he held insight into them at all.

Competition. Technique, and the ensuing threat to hone it. The [Dao Oath] then followed before more secrets might be imparted. Steps that culminated in a final test, one that solidified several factors.

The talent to succeed, the discipline to learn, the will to claim lives at another’s behest, and all else between.

A prick aligned his thoughts as Aarushi’s needle withdrew from his palm. “This sixty-first rate disciple’s [Life Qi] would flush the blood, strengthening it so pressure and vitality would have afflictions spill. A body knows what is foreign, senior. Grade is the determinable factor. [Foundation Realm] toxins or the equivalent thereof, require little finesse to cleanse.”

Fu’s knowledge of poison application was fostered through a more instinctive sense, owed to his [Hundred Immunities Fruit] and the osmosis of his vocation. As such he sought a doctor’s opinion in how best to solve his ire-stoked mistake.

“The individual effects change this, no? To draw a flesh-damaging poison too swiftly would cause damage, and [Spiritual] poisons, those targeting organs and such. How best to cure this?”

Aarushi considered this. “Such a question is one glimpse of the vastest of medicinal practices. [Fire QI] could scour the poison, yet never to be applied to [Wood Qi] nor a suppressable [Affinity] lest damage be sustained. [Blood Qi] is often lauded as unparalleled in these matters, for its manipulation easily sifts through what is desired and what is not, if again to be countered by its suppressants. [Arts] exist, techniques and procedures that fit a standardised treatment, though none of these are on hand.”

Clinics, or doctor’s houses, the Four Corners Prefecture held many. Aarushi’s moderately spaced, barren room seemed too hollow to be named such.

“What of [Arrays]?”

The doctor’s thin lips piqued behind her sleeve. Demure, for reasons unknown to Fu. “Apologies, senior, the reply is the same.”

“None on hand,” Fu nodded, a thumb upon his whisker. “Resources ever elude us, or chiefly, those of immediate need. To that end, I would know what exactly you lack.”

Aarushi’s [Spirit Lizard] bowed as she did. “This sixty-first rate disciple requires nothing, senior,” she said, surprise evident. “A gift of the [Clouded Ghost Arts] manuscript is already too fine a treasure, to ask for more would be shameful.”

Inwardly, Hushi commented on her proficiency, for before them stood a mortal by any expansion of [Senses].

“Not when offered,” Fu corrected. “Of these Waywards Winds, few but the heads have reached proficiency in our heritage. The foundation. Thus, even if necessity demands your talents expand, diligence must be rewarded,”

“Then, perhaps, a small token.” Aarushi drew a set of needles from her sleeve. “[One Hundred Rhythms of the Golden Needle]. Prior to induction, this sixty-first rate disciple had mastered five.”

Such a title stirred thoughts of Master Ban. Further thoughts stirred another.

“Younglings of younglings. Babes, fresh as spawn.” The Old One spoke fondly, if thunder could.

All are as children before your wisdom, old master.

A chuff resounded. “Such is the lens of immortality.”

With affirmative signals from his aged parter, Fu’s hand… waivered. His steps had brought him to Aarushi’s desk, where quill and spread papyrus held. Yet the first attempt of using his [Intermediary Wisdom], was this best done in another’s company?

Soft, is it not?

As his finger brushed the surface, Aarushi observed. The [Spirit Lizard] stock still at her breast, attention rapt. Even as he handled the ivory-white quill, and turned it over.

Never to speak of his own bottleneck.

“At the risk of sounding forward, disciple, you have the grace of one versed in quillwork. If you would?”

Aarushi accepted the proffered quill as Fu began to stroke his moustache- a mark of pensive thought, and prelude to his newfound talent. Then he searched, inwardly, as he might when adopting the lotus. Not to his [Core] and the blessedly full [Channels], but towards his connection with the Old One.

An acuteness of pimples scored across his flesh, from forearm to nape. Cool, as ancillary [Senses] stirred from within. They marked all in sight, or the equivalent of what might be. Small identifications of the table’s composition, the papyrus and what knowledge his [Constellation Seed]- bound partner held on it.

So Fu closed his eyes, and gestured.

“[Six Rhythms of the Golden Needle],” he announced, his a tandem voice with that which thundered within. “It begins as this, foundationally. Hand, half clasped, sweeping to open crescents wherein the index and middle digits curl at ninety degrees before the motion completes.”

A surety of energy held his hands as such, this fisherman, not now, nor ever to be, some master of the technique enacted. He would gain no understanding from this, for a torrent of mental energy drained as the Old One impressed on correct positioning, removing all chance for memorization or instinct to develop.

The Sixth rhythm comprised seventy three separate motions, both subtle and grand. All to be completed with varying vibrations and movements of [Inner Qi] to be performed at certain movements and at the height, during, or before a complexity of circulation techniques that Fu’s mind could barely fathom.

Explained only once all motions were complete. “...to ensure stimulation has occurred.”

Knowing well the intricacies of face and honor, Shuidi impressed that Fu should not fall comatose before his disciple, no matter the toll taken. So saying, he masked his fatigue with a white-knuckle grip upon the table’s edge.

However, Aarushi had eyes only for the floor. Near prostrate in her bow. “This sixty-first rate disciple knew not the immensity of her senior’s talents. No master within her clan could speak with such clarity. Senior Gao Fu is unmatched.”

Fu could scarce stand, let alone correct this assumption. Yet…

How deep would her respect remain if she discovered that I could barely read such a tome, let alone wield a quill to write but one character of it?

🀦

The March of Serpents plan necessitated travel throughout the constellations of the [True Orchid Path], and with no small leaps. It was natural that the diligent Pinxiu and her swarming [Spirit Ants] documented each, transcribing what reports on geography, landmarks, and notable features owed to the [Law of Origin] she could.

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Seven [Mystic Realms] were traversed in two days, such a pace owed to the fleetness of their flying vessel.

Now still against the moonlight.

It was muddying thing, however, to step foot in so many. Between [Beast Realms], [Trial Realms], profundities of varying nature and the myriad [Affinities] presented in all, there was much to consider.

With Udvah’s aid, the plan might soon bear fruit. If indeed the Heavens favoured it.

Fu traced his finger along the [True Orchid Path] fragment. From their current realm, the one in question, and out. Irregular, for its tethers were to but two [Mystic Realms], and as such branched only twice to adjacent stars.

A teal arm descended from his douli, tapping further stars. Further realms. This, two leaps away.

“Indeed, brother, we stare at a bag of snakes,” he agreed, sharing what sentiments were impressed exactly. “Once done, if done, the process will appear simple.”

Few things occurred when they needed to, and so Fu was left to ruminate for another hour before his watch was broken. A stare over the sea of clouds that changed only a smaller Warship breached the rolling waves.

A smaller realm, this, or the [Paifang] is fortunately placed. Udvah has not long departed.

Heading the bow, his Vajra companion stood in the nauseating yellow hanfu of that nominal caste, stoic as he leant upon his gun. With one of the [Array] initiates, -?-, at his helm, the time between arrival and re-storage using the [Dao of Collections] pendant was small.

“Amituofo, senior, the task is complete,” came his greeting bow.

Fu raised the [True Orchid Path] fragment for reference. “Gratitude. The mark is placed then? Placed upon the departing [Paifang]?”

With small gestures Udvah relieved the map fragment, setting his finger upon each. “This eager disciple’s [Shaving of the First Gate] is set. The first is within our current realm, as stated, and the receiving end remains where placed the previous day. Two leaps beyond. Amituofo, regret. There is more.”

The man’s finger moved one notch higher.

“Our target is [True Lord Grade] then, as feared?” breathed Fu.

“Amituofo. Some clouds hold silver linings, yes? The [Mystic Realm] rests at [Foundation Grade], barring Gao Fu’s entry.”

Such information did not concern Hushi, who merely impressed his intent forward.

“I have never asked, brother, but does this not bar your own entry? My thoughts were that you have achieved [Core Formation] already?”

The Vajra shook. “Through Master Ban’s seminar this lacking disciple reached the peak, yet the joy of ascension was waylaid by selfish, meddlesome Empires. Amituofo, a rudeness, yes? To launch an assault just so one disciple’s progress might be stymied.”

Both men shared a grin. “Indeed, brother. No doubt fearful of the storied Cloud Gathering division, and what doom your progress would bring.”

“Amituofo. As you say.”

Notions rose, and Fu gave them voice. “Wu Anfang stands far from the peak, yet all others are poor choices. Will the pair of you prove enough?”

Udvah’s smile was halved. “No less than this is required, or so it is said. This disciple is concerned more with whispers to support Gao Fu’s worry. That Xiong, he holds keen ears.”

One half of the [Array] initiates that tended to their Warship… Fu wondered on the truth of these supposed whispers if they had come from his mouth. Surely the treatment of those sharing his vocation by the Martial initiates meant that not all would secrets would be told.

All conspiratorial words.

“Words shared on Su Sai, perhaps?”

“Amituofo. In half. The attraction of his offer, sun-facing and experienced. Yet second, of the myriad scars Wu Anfang returned with some days prior, their connection to poisoned comrades, chaotic plans and a senior of unknown measure.”

Such talk had Shuidi bristle, calmed by Fu’s gentle touch.

We tread the path that is already walked. This is our certainty. Hold faith in this, sister, and do not have mere whispers sway you.

Fu’s words came cold. “A shame, that they cannot see benefit. Perhaps a reminder is due, if their training is so untroubled they have time to spill words as they do.”

Mangalam croaked confidently- and yet, this was ill timed.

Waylaying the creeping reminder of initiates that rose every second breath, another bulge pressed from the clouds. A wave, shed, and breaking to reveal the great deck of a vessel that rivalled their own.

Before so much as a glance might be put upon him, Fu’s [Dao of Wayward Breezes] stole him within his own structure. “Initiates,” he called. “Heads. To me, swiftly!”

A count of breaths passed this message between all, delivering his sum of red-faced cultivators before him. Pinxiu’s scholars, Aarushi, Anfang and her juniors. Then lastly, Su Sai, whose retinue of four had Fu’s mood darken in assembly.

“Another vessel approaches. Its Caste, of Yellow,” he announced, sharing the flash of sails gleaned upon it.

Concern rippled through myriad exposed [Dantian]. The [Spirit Beasts’] collective uncertainty and that of their partners, magnified where before [Qi Suppression] had restrained their emotion.

His mood grew darker yet.

“Senior, what might these initiates do?” asked Aarushi, interrupting the rising, improper susurrus.

Ash white flocked across the Warship’s trim. An energy to contain, for it suffocated the woodwork, the flooring and eaves in a press of thrumming light. [Force Qi], enacted by the sudden mounting of a hostile [Array].

The vessel lurched.

An immediate attack. Are we so noticeable?

Fu’s connection to the Warship’s [Core] muddied- severed by the Yellows’ intervention and this [Array].

Worse fates stirred as Su Sai spoke. “It’s inaction that will doom us.” The twin meteors of his weapon dropped, punctuated by a serpentine hiss. Then, In open defiance, the sun-facing cultivator merely left.

Measured steps followed by all that had entered with him.

Bloated confidence, and to such an extent that he endangers our juniors. If the Heavens allow our survival, this will be rectified.

On his list of potentates, Fu struck five names free, and delivered his command. “Move as ghosts,” he said, nudging Shuidi into action so the mists might spill forth.

🀦

His Martial initiates had not been instructed on positioning. On vantages, chokepoints, nor the tactics one used when stripping an overwhelming force bare. Perhaps then, his previous statement was that of a fool.

For as he stalked the mist-wrapped corridors of his Warship, bare whispers followed.

“Su Sai,” they said.

“Righteous.”

“Sun-facing.”

Terms that spoke of “Why this?” and “Ghosts?” in tones of questio- no, tones of dissent.

It hardened Fu’s heart, now a gem of onyx where before a mere stone. These… children. They knew not the immensity of Heaven and Earth. The depths of the Clouded Courts. A forgivable offence when Su Sai’s boldness blazed as a beacon, and when weighed against instructions given that they did not understand.

To his left, movement. Anfang at prowl. “Senior.” Hesitance filled her greeting, and an aversion of previously emboldened eyes.

“Junior,” whispered Fu Gao. “Steady your gaze.”

Command firmed her, entwining their step so that she flew not five paces behind his blurring dashes. From mist-thick corridor, to the peak of their Warship, and then to a silent gaze over all that they would face.

Udvah’s brooch resonated, shoulder brushed at the side of yellow robes. Pinned, if socially, by twin cultivators at his east and west as a third of higher station dispensed orders to all that trailed by.

Regimented oranges and mundane [Spirit Beasts]. Hounds, for seeking.

Curs.

Their in-time march crossed the bridge between vessels, fanning to inspect every pace of the deck before an individual remained. Of the twenty oranges, one would stand post as others moved on, edging ever closer to the interior.

A goal reached, if Su Sai had not addressed them.

The crack of bone was deafening. Sai’s weapon, their namesake of meteors, proving true. One head thundered into the chest of a trespasser, shattering all the bones that might keep him aloft. Its twin dispensed a second, a third and fourth, evoking a fragility in all they touched.

His retinue of five followed.

Anfang remained still as Fu set his blade against the moored Warship. Towards the hundred robes of orange, and the rushing of mundane red. To exterior balconies where this aggressor’s true forces rallied, Qi a-surge.

“What use are eyes when they go unused?” the ghost mused. “Junior. You will follow, you will watch, and you will act.”

[Half Cloud Step] danced him among the stars in a single leap, some unfathomable height above the clouds. Fu Gao passed swiftly, pirouetted and set down in utter silence atop the opposing vessel’s roof.

Three stories, and wide. Myriad passages. Offensive cultivators upon each outer balcony to number one hundred. To consider the value of Castes, how many Reds might toil within? We will put their sum at double. The [Defensive Arrays] are for counter-warfare. Our [Divine Sense] relays no [Constellation Seeds] present, nor any above middle [Core Formation].

As Anfang descended from an [Art]-borne leap, he frowned. Not for the escaping Qi, for her suppression was unmarred.

No, the impact upon tiles drew his eye.

“Before the night is done, that habit will be removed,” he whispered.

His first sweep was pace-setting. An unfurling from gable end to balcony, infiltrating the walkway at speeds that Anfang might follow. The rearside, for that is where their slaughter would begin.

These oranges were set equidistant, befitting their tactic of intimidation. A solitary host of statues, where [Spirit Beast] and cultivators alike glared on the transpiring combat ahead. Some false show of dissuasion where the hubris of cultivators was sure to deny it.

[Might] plunged Fu Gao’s blade through one such skull. Hushi enveloped the [Spirit Hound], and all within become concave and shattered. Then, a gentle push to have the corpse tumble into the clouds below.

Their [Senses] will trace this blood. The [Array] to deny wind keeps all sealed here, and soon the scent of death will fester.

A second fell some twenty strides on. The third and fourth then, which scratched no gouge in the meat of their number. Nor had they progressed far along the balcony.

But Shuidi impressed a change. One blur that had he and Anfang negotiate for a higher vantage to glean what fresh noise drew their [Senses]. And so there, upon the slated lip, Su Sai’s fate was made known.

A defiant struggle.

Crimson circulated the trail of his weapons. A Qi, unplaceable from this distance, yet an angry thing to witness. It seeped from the spherical hammers upon his chain as liquid might, maddening those its bile touched.

Enraging the score of oranges about him as his [Spirit Serpent] struck.

An illusion shed, for none with eyes would call it thin nor frail as once witnessed. Now a monster crushed where his weapon did not touch, crushing with tail and rear to break many of the foolish [Spirit Beasts] that dared try him.

And yet for his triumph, and for these blades around Sai that had yet to scratch him- the initiates were bound.

Where the bridge across clouds married decks, five individuals lay crumpled. Bound, perhaps, and un-crippled, yet splayed before Udvah and his conversational partner. The yellows that had not marked him as traitor or aggressor, and listened intently to words exchanged that Fu might only track by the movement of distant mouths.

Fu Gao pushed two resonances through his brooch. A distant grin broadened as two resonances returned.

Mere signs of affirmation.

More than this, however, the villain’s own lips quirked. For there, at the entrance to his own Warship there marched a line of initiates under escort. Those of Martial Paths and those that walked the road to alchemy. His heads, in tow.

Under duress, under threat, and better- possessing of an unparalleled view.

Brother. Sister. Let us deliver them meaning. These initiates, and these dogs that think the night is theirs to walk. Mindless, for they know nothing of serpents.

“Junior,” he whispered. “Bring cruelty.”

[Half Cloud Step].

The opening of his [Meridians] was not wasted, for mere heartbeats delivered him to the Warships’ fore. To the highest balcony that oversaw all, and the unwitting orange that thought herself strong for the numbers about her.

[Hundred Poisons Synthesis] coated his palm in horror as he swept it across the orange’s eyes, melting all beneath. Turning flesh to liquid as he whispered through the screams. “You have no need for such loudness, orange. Save your breath, for many are soon to join this chorus.”