[Divine Sense] revealed nothing of the Greens’ [Consteltion Seeds], but to possess such a sense themselves spoke volumes.

  Twelve seeds between the four of us. Ivory Sea must hold six, lest Zhu holds treasures he had not spoken of. No- these thoughts are wayward. There is only what stands before us.

  A curtain of ash encircled them, fiercer than the most violent squall. Further trouble y in the contents: those who dwelled within. These [Spectral Q assassins, holding a concerted [Affinity] with that of the same, fiery element.

  Eight advanced.

  One remained.

  Kavya and Ivory Sea remained incapacitated, buried by the weight of [Killing Intent].

  Zhu’s tong fas sounded the first csh and Fu whirled to meet his own foe. Sheer speed struck his chain-wrapped arm, and the bde at its end barely rebuffed a pair of scoring jian.

  [Spirit Tiger’s] cws. An ash-shrouded qiang. A brace of hidden daggers.

  And on.

  The assassins were cruel in their teasing blows, extracting a tithe of blood each time they neared. Grins creased beneath their halved masks, and excitement fred in the intensity of each gathered [Spirit Beast].

  Shuidi. Hushi. I put this matter in your care.

  Both his partners flew from their middens, vanishing from the fray.

  His [Core] began to bloat.

  [Dao of Pooling Rain].

  The rain was swept aside. Stifled beneath the torrent of Heaven’s ashfall before his clouds could even form. Yet the Greens’ eyes fshed skyward, sensing his [Profundity].

  A blink behind that which followed his chain.

  The [Wind Phantom Strides] advanced, snaking, shing, and cerating the space surrounding this fray. Though [Spectral Q had them confident- their cultivation, had them confident. For the assassins did not shrink from it.

  They stepped with their partners, allowing the chain to phase through their immaterial forms. As knives would through cloud, cutting naught.

  Shuidi impressed a dire strain from the rear.

  “Amitabha, time and tide wait for none,” commanded the Green’s senior.

  Then they were upon the ghosts, pressing innumerable bdes against his throat without a moment’s hesitation.

  Waiting [Spirit Tiger] jaws. Three jian. One Qiang. [Spirit Mantis] bdes.

  Fu dared not breath, lest an intake sever his neck. “Peerless,” he whispered, having a shallow groove mark his chin for the effort.

  The disparity is too great. These are true ghosts.

  One among their number took his wrist in hand, seeming dismayed when they could not find another. “The manacles will not work on this cripple.”

  Another moved, tearing open the fabric at his chest. “Hold.”

  He saw a paper talisman set there, the flow of Qi well suppressed. It ashed in moments, burning a severe pattern upon his skin.

  No.

  The ground beneath him called swiftly then, for his legs lost all strength. His arm sagged, and his spine became unbearable. All said, for the [Inner Q within [Core] and [Channels] simply dissipated.

  Hushi-

  His impressions felt distant.

  Shuidi?

  Zhu grunted to his rear. “Brother,” he coughed, and a ssh nded against his flesh.

  Both Fu’s partners mingled among Ivory Sea’s hanfu, absorbing all the [Origin Q they might take for a sudden release. A strategy that would surely stall these Green enough for escape, if not choke them with an immortal’s poison.

  Had we continued for five more heartbeats…

  The Green’s senior hastened his cultivators into formation, with each hoisting their captives to stand. A gesture cancelled the cleared space, and ash consumed them all.

  ?

  Capture.

  Pain.

  Blood.

  Ash.

  The Old One’s silence.

  These prevailing thoughts cycled Fu’s mind as he sat in a construct of wood. A tomb of roots, tticed and bulging.

  His first attempt at escape had burst much of the wounds upon his leg and gut, saturating what ash-pasted tatters remained of his robes. The Empire of Abundant [Spring] held clear talent in sealing, for the effects of the set talisman had reduced him close to mortality.

  In [Resilience], [Might] - all.

  Once staunched by ash, his second attempt was met with further failure.

  To move but half a pace would close the binding roots of his cell, promising a swift end should he struggle.

  Thus he remained still. Contemptive. Fu expanded his [Senses]- a meager lot. A puddle where before his ears or Qi, eyes or taste might move through a pool.

  Hushi and Shuidi were near.

  Paces that may well be a ke.

  “Conserve your strength, fool.”

  He blinked. “Woman,” he called, not wishing to name Ivory Sea.

  “Woman? Please, my name is to be venerated. Not held in shadow as you oafs endorse. Procim it, as right,” she no less than shouted.

  “Venerable Ivory Sea. If you would listen, the situation may require more discretion than you currently employ. Such volume might call down undue attention.”

  Her precise location was uncertain, masked by these tticed roots. As was her health, for he doubted the Empire had spared her the same treatment as he.

  “Are you injured?” he asked.

  “Don’t insult me,” she wavered. “However, you differ from the plum-eyed bastard. You’ve asked out of concern- no, what do you seek to gain with this question?”

  Fu stroked his whisker. “An answer?”

  “A queer game to py. I’ve trivial injuries.”

  “Words I am gd to hear,” he said. “I would ask what you have seen of this pce? Of my fellows.”

  “Nothing. Why would I concern myself with your disciples?” a scoff filled the intervening distance, marking her as westward and close.

  “A fool guesses, venerable Ivory Sea, but I would say that we are your means of escape. Or perhaps there is some benefit to losing one’s [Consteltion Seeds]?”

  Long moments passed.

  “[Consteltion Seeds]. Some Paths require their loss. To complete a [Primordial Consteltion Gate] twice. Thrice. Among the aged fools of the Clear Sky, there’s tale of one that’s done so seven times.”

  So casual a tone, and to speak so freely.

  “Seven times?” Fu excimed. “To what benefit-”

  “Quiet, fool. The first was a gift. The second requires trade, and you hold nothing of value. It’s clear the [Cherry River Sage] denied your education. Among the few cultivators worthy of my admiration, she has done well for this. Already is the Empire polluted with over-reaching bastards, we’ve no need for more.”

  Many thoughts circled then. Whenever they might speak, Ivory Sea dripped such knowledge. A facet of immortality, he wondered, this disassociation of Master Ban’s warnings. That those closest to Heaven could not recall what was valued and what was not.

  Escape comes before all. I must suppress my greed.

  So saying, he looked to his finger. To the spatial ring still upon it, inscribed in [Arrays] and meaning by those of an Empire separate from his captors.

  Overlooked, if Fu so chose the rarely tread path of optimism.

  If not, he would think higher of the [Twenty Four Figurations] now, when pced against these circuits of Abundant [Spring].

  Sweat pooled swiftly. A grunt followed through his tightened jaw.

  His [Inner Q was but a speck, and to bend it to his will was akin to finding a single hair from nine oxen.

  The mere thought of cycling his Qi brought prickles across his spine. A numbness that transted through his distant-seeming [Core]. So he strained, and fought, only touching upon his ring once blood soaked his whisker.

  A stoppered cy jug nded in his p, a preparation for his ever-deyed [Constitution] development. Just one of hundreds that brimmed with reagents.

  Poisons.

  Fu submerged his hand within the [Four Elements Transformation Venom].

  Even with his bloated [Pull], it would not come: his command over Qi was absent. And yet the [Hundred Immunities Fruit] did not require such. Skin could absorb poison as readily as he could manipute its energies.

  The talisman’s inscription did not favour this.

  His [Channels] sputtered.

  With no control over its direction, the [Poison Q within this reagent rose as water might. A saturation of his inner workings. It cascaded, mindlessly, touching upon previous [Meridians] or his [Core], rejuvenating small patches of his wounds before moving once more.

  He knew not how much time remained until his [Consteltion Seed] was, as he guessed, taken for harvest. Nor that of Ivory Sea’s.

  But neither could he do anything else, and so he drew more.

  Heat bzed upon his chest with a violent discrepancy when measured against his [Three Eyed Spying Array]. Though any ill effect to his flesh was held at bay by the influx of Qi.

  Moments. Minutes. More.

  An intensity of nausea thrust bile from Fu’s mouth and gushed more blood from his nostrils. This was no proper method of cultivation, and his entirety protested against it.

  The talisman’s inscription suffered an equal strain, for it was a suppressing thing. A sealing thing, intent on severing all the Qi within his body. And so it tried, vainly, until the power within it could no longer battle.

  All at once Fu’s faculties returned, spraying vomit across the face of his prison. So did pain come, and other insignificancies.

  [MERIDIAN, FIRST POINT] PURIFIED

  Qi impartment increased.

  [MERIDIAN CLEANSED]

  [Control] +9,

  [Capacity] +9,

  [Resilience] +6,

  [Might] +6,

  [Spirit] +1,

  Despite a welcome development, his [Ink] read strange.

  Purified. The [Four Elements Transformation Water] must hold a wealth in pure Qi. It is a rare treasure indeed. Perhaps two fish might be caught with one net.

  “The [Boon] grants immunity to [Poison Q and its lesser substances. No other signs present Heaven’s treasures.”

  Fu slowed at this voice, for indeed: a fool had guessed. Gone were comparisons between Empires and their [Arrays].

  “Remove him,” one among them ordered.

  The roots repealed, widening so that he might be ushered forth. Forwards, to a dank corridor and the escorting growls of paired [Spirit Tigers].

  “Ah, there I see the means of my escape. How bold. How peerless,” ughed Ivory Sea. “Fool.”

  ?

  It was a chamber much like Ban Bingbai’s. A depression far from sight, and lighted suitably for the deeds that were to transpire.

  Robes swayed in the crevices about Fu. Figures immersed in the surrounding alcoves, their hue near a match of the surrounding roots. But darkness posed little trouble to those on Heaven’s Path, and he saw there the fragility of their forms.

  The spindle of these cultivators limbs aside [Spirit Insects] of equal slender.

  Then a vice steered his neck forward, having him cascade atop the chamber’s center. Despite his recovery, Fu was powerless to resist.

  “Snow-kissed.”

  “Sun-starved.”

  “Pale one.”

  So rose the susurration. Insults that slopped as one might rid bile from their mouth, and no alcove was free from them.

  Comments on [Winter], is it not?

  Fresh disturbances welcomed Hushi to nd beside him, six of eight arms coated in ruby-rich blood. Not his own.

  Bold, brother.

  Shuidi was deposited thereafter, a diminutive prison of roots around her. More telling were the bloody tears that streaked from her captive’s eyes.

  [Tears of Green Mady]. Fitting, sister. I expected nothing less.

  “Silence,” commanded one greater than the surrounding robes, ceasing the interminable chant about them.

  It differed from the one that had pursued them. The cultivator of [Spirit Vultures] possessed a lighter voice than this fresh command.

  “Speak, filth of [Winter]. Speak and face this ordeal swiftly. The Empire of Abundant [Spring] holds cim to all treasures beneath Heaven, and twelve are your number. Name from what nds you have pilfered the venerable [Sixth Under Heaven’s] property.”

  A heartbeat saw the roots beneath move, twisting in serpentine fashion. Rising and ensnaring where Fu’s wrist hung free.

  Immovable.

  “It is said that there are Heavens beyond Heavens,” came his reply.

  These roots hoisted him higher, having him suspend aside his fate-sharing partners.

  “Heavens beyond Heavens.”

  “The snow-kissed speaks in false tongues.”

  “Silence,” quelled the loudest.

  Fu saw her now.

  A Vajra of weathered skin and crooked back. Aged. That most dreaded visage. “There is but one Heaven, child, and we are graced to look upon him.”

  They possess eyes, but cannot see. A cruel man, this Emperor. Though such evil is bitter where the Clear Sky’s is sweet. Let us see how far their blindness goes.

  “[Mystic Realm],” spoke Fu.

  The susurrus rose once more to instant dismissal.

  His aged captor tested his phrase, foreign upon her lips. “[Mystic Realm]. Beneath him, all things are possible. You are not. You cannot be. Thus, you either possess talent in maniputing the [Boundless Dao] or you speak truly.”

  “[Imperial Realm]. [Mystic Realm]. Heavens beyond Heavens.”

  Those robes about him held restraint now. Their [Spirit Insects] edged closer, now upon the lip of their rooted alcoves.

  “By [Sixth Under Heaven’s] whim does he allow the Qi to react. A tool: a [Boon], so that his subjects might know all the treasures within his domain. To know what they might gift him as tithe, or to know what he grants virtue.”

  Fu’s lips thinned. “[Yin Equilibrium Arts]. [Fist of Nine Strokes]. More. These are techniques outwith your Empire of [Spring], cultivator. Outwith your Heavens.”

  Chittering broke above the suppressed whispers. Some mania of mandibles and legs.

  “Ignorance is the most insidious of poisons,” mused the woman. “[Mystic Realm],” she tested once more. “Novel. Speak further, it is to your benefit.”

  To what benefit would I continue? To stall? If there is a means of escape, it will be all staked upon a single throw. Not in conversation.

  His pn did not require words. Nor did Hushi or Shuidi believe this crone’s heart might be swayed by truths of the wider world.

  Yet the fisherman’s faith burned ever brighter than hope. Another might benefit from added time.

  “On origins and fables? Venerable green, I would speak only on the truth of what I know. The [Boundless Dao] react to our words. Why our ears resonate with these terms is no decree of your Emperor, but a matter of hearts.”

  A slight crease parted the woman’s lips. “Then continue, well-mannered captive. But you will refrain from speaking ill of [Sixth Under Heaven]. I am unworthy of hosting his name, and as such your own attempt it a debasement of propriety.”

  “As you wish,” Fu dipped.

  A casual thing, as if Grandmother Hau’s tea were before him and not a swift end.

  “Qi resonates with the hearts of all. It recognises importance, and lesser [Profundity]. What is cherished and vaunted- these techniques of [Fist of Nine Strokes] or even [White Asp Arts]. A [Pill] is no treasure, but resonates as such. Be it [Winter Rejuvenation] or [Body Refinement]. The [Boundless Dao] recognises the importance of these trinkets within us. So it was told to me, and so I have seen.”

  “Trickery,” broke from the alcoves.

  “The snow-kissed ces his tongue with his [Dao], surely.”

  A segmented tail violently burst through these robed-stooges’ chests. Pointed and glinting, now sodden with their vital energies.

  The enacting [Spirit Scorpion] returned to her aged partner’s side in a blur. “Silence was called,” she reminded. “Wasteful.”

  Would that they speak more.

  “Have you this talent with the [Dao], [Winter’s] child?”

  Fu shook his head. “The [Dao] that is shared is not the [Dao], venerable. My talents do not extend so far.”

  She firmed in agreement. “Yes. A truth that we might agree on. [Spring’s] peace upon you, cultivator. We will do this swiftly.” The suspending roots merged, snaring legs and neck, priming him for the end to this ceremony.

  “My Path has not often led me to trusted meetings, venerable Green. But I would extend my gratitude. Many beneath Heaven are quick to anger, and this exchange - for all our positions might be - has been pleasant,” said Fu.

  Pity was masked well upon her, perhaps for the presence of these robed underlings. Though it peeked for less than a heartbeat.

  [Demonic Energy] surged.

  Oppressive as it always was. Ruby-red as the blood it oft harvested and reaped for its own means. The crone before him did not flinch as it engulfed her being in fmes of this hue, nor as her [Spirit Scorpion] fred as the power’s focus.

  Its stinger met his chest, kindly, penetrating with the width and depth of a needle.

  Fu knew it might go further, and thus stole a breath before their true battle might begin. His final saving throw.

  Fog plumed there, for unbeknownst to him, the air had grown bitterly cold.

  Then did his foe [Pull]. Then, did these captive ghosts [Pull] back.