Fatherly Asura Chapter Two Hundred and One - When Roots Intersect

A subject that needs not the mystery that surrounds it.

Heaven blesses the blood of these clans, and so, why should it not be known to all? Is this not our pride as the One Hundred and Eight?

As upon the [Ink]:

[Dragon Ancestor’s Tapestry]

[Heavenly Talent] [Seventy Second] [Boon]

[Nine Edges of the AutumnEquinox]

[Heavenly Talent] [Seventy Third] [Boon]

[Oriole]

[Heavenly Talent] [Seventy Fourth] [Boon]

“Heavenly Talents,” by Lord Seventy Second

Mingqin would expect more.

In morality and talent.

Such a line was strange to tread, truly, for Fu nor Shuidi nor Hushi knew where to apply their pressure.

The blade of their chain did not puncture a [Core]. Throats went un-slit. No [Dao] were called to shatter the [Spirit] of their foes through [Tribulation].

The erstwhile tranquil Hushi impressed his disappointnt at a lack of crunched bone.

Shuidi had much to say, and no words were kind.

But the righteous Gao Fu, envoy, high-seat and vigilant of the noble Phoenix lody Coalition pressed on despite these… inefficient restrictions.

One faceless clanswoman of the One Hundred and Eighth plunged a spear through his misty physique, and the [Stifling Stream Revolutions] pumlled her into a bloody state. This followed for her hundred brothers, cousins or orbiting familial mbers. So re onslaught of fist, palm and heel to physically break those that ca against him.

A heavenly din exploded from the fortress’s peak, seeing gold, debris and peerless energies clash within.

Long was surely enough to fell Vishram with his own hand.

The addition of Cho would only make this swifter.

Disciples of the Ninety Nine Palm Sect spilled from their bronze-hued half, leaping into the vast crowds of clansn against which their numbers paled. Indeed it was an exercise in quality above quantity, as while these monks seed untroubled the resources of a Numbered clan could not be ignored.

Fu swept into the main courtyard, rushing his [Intent] out in declaration. “Family of the One Hundred and Eighth, lay down these arms. City Lord Mingqin is gentle to those that do not cause trouble.”

An edge of bodies arrived, bearing [Spirit Tigers], lions and sizable feline beasts as their nacing front. With green hanfu and lowered qiang, Fu thought it an approaching forest given how dense their numbers proved.

“Hah! You dare offer such demands. My clan, this frog truly does not know the depths of the well he croaks in,” stepped forth a larger cultivator. Drama flared in his every motion as he spun, marking this speech as a spectacle. “My na is-”

“Cousin! Why lower yourself?” called an erging woman, bearing clear familial resemblance to both the previous and Vishram. “That old man is of no trouble, and clearly he would not cause such a scene if he had sense.”

A third ca, and here the crowd solidified around the One Hundred and Eighth’s supposed heroes.

“Cousin.”

“Cousin.”

“Cousin.”

The greetings were shared to a backing chorus of cheers.

Fu looked beyond appearance, seeing no sense in describing the soon-to-be-broken, evaluating their strengths instead.

Peak [Core Formation], for twelve [Spirit Sabertooth] proudly orbited those who spoke. Familiar, if far distant from the [Heritage] he had once faced. It would be curious to see how they compared to the Sepulchral Saber Sect.

Long would seek their obliteration, his thoughts on life are as precious as our own. To act for Mingqin and bring the ire of this clan however, it is a curiosity. Perhaps he knows the dead will tell no tales.

Their intention for violence was clear. Understandable when one’s realm is invaded, he knew, but a vexation all the sa.

Fu contemplatively puffed his pipe.

To defeat these three will surely lessen the martial spirit of their comrades. If Long is to play executioner, then I will push him towards this role as I remain outwardly righteous.

Light suffused the [Ink] of these scions of the One Hundred and Eighth much the sa as Vishram. Doubtless its sheen was dimr, though their [Heavenly Talent] was plain - marking each as a true blooded relation.

[Intent] solidified across Fu’s fists, flickering as though a teal fla.

It was then that a fresh figure landed beside him, two colourful [Spirit Apes] at her side.

Mandrill or baboon of stern expression.

[Ink] patterned her bare arms in tones of vibrant orange, as did the matching [Intent] that mirrored his own. “[Stifling Stream Revolutions],” she noted, fastening her hair with a cord. “When this is over, we will trade pointers.”

“I am not against it,” said Fu, nodding once as the fray began.

Three hours marked the final blow.

Three bloodied Vajra lay about him.

[Stifling Stream Revolutions]

[Earthly Ascension], [Early] attained.

[Might] 120, [Control] 95

What remained were a tide of knee-bent cultivators, cowed before the figures at their center. A ring of aningless tears, dewy upon each cheek.

The Fatherly [Asura] ignored all muttered breaths. Those trembling lips that whispered disbelief.

“The young masters.” “The young mistress.”

Repeated in miserable variation.

“The garden’s edge is where weeds grow thickest. A fool would leave them,” voiced the woman to his side.

As with him, her palms were bloodied. He wondered if her [Spirit] was likewise burdened, having struck with the sa [Intent]-laced blows from the [Stifling Stream Revolutions].

“I do not disagree,” shared Fu. “But these are City Lord Mingqin’s foes, not my own.”

This recent martial partner was an unsmiling sort, and stern as she nursed her hands. “Atrocities are doled out for less, are they not? Cho will demand their heads.”

Attention turned to the symphony of shattered debris and light so few li distant, now subsiding.

“More so then, for I would not act for your senior,“ he said, noting no honorific bestowed at the Matriarch’s ntion. “Perhaps it is not the place, but I am envious of your talent with the [Stifling Stream Revolutions]. Your martial technique is peerless.”

The woman frowned. “Polite. If you truly believed that you would not stand here, you would have fallen long past to one with middling talent. Peerless. Do you not find such terms are thrown about without thought?”

Fu smiled. “I have a friend that argues this point, although I see no harm in small complints.”

A notable burst struck their [Senses], rippling unease through the crowd as they turned towards the fading lights.

“How can this be?” ca through a variation of whispers, for this tangible absence of Qi was no less than Vishram’s violent demise.

Myriad clansn were gathered about Fu’s defeated foes.

A stage well prepared, and one that Long readily used. With a flare of golden light he appeared in the skies above, allowing Vishram’s mutilated corpse to splatter across the fortress’ pavings thereafter.

Red definitively coated his clansn.

Long flicked what remained of this from his jian. “One Hundred and Eighth, your lord lies slain. I see now that these shallow fools he nad kin lie writhing. Put in your eyes, as it’s the fate of all that defy the Phoenix lody Coalition.”

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“Disciples,” bood Cho, appearing swifter than Fu might track. “Yongwu Long and Gao Fu have cleansed this realm, it is only right that we dirty our palms to rectify it.”

The Matriarch was one for few words.

But her will was clear as limpid water.

As though a great noose tightened, the fortress grew redder beneath the strikes of uncountable palms.

Fu administered a fatal cut to the first of his comatose foes, and t his martial partner in the middle. “This may complicate the pointers you wished to trade,” he said.

The woman’s palm erupted downwards, viscerally. “Perhaps. Cho seems to have struck an accord with your coalition. A fire is lit beneath her. Fools gamble, but I believe we will cross paths in these coming tis. I welco the growth this turbulence will bring. Gratitude, stranger.”

Her words were sincere, but without gesture.

“Gao Fu,” he replied.

“This one is Gao Shuidi, and our stoic brother is Hushi,” interjected the [Spirit Crab]. “We welco any that embrace the turbulent. Too many sedentary fools walk beneath Heaven.”

This quirked a smile upon the woman’s lips, promising a trouble that Fu had thought himself well distant from. “Bold, and a painful truth. For what is crisis, but opportunity riding a dangerous wind?”

🀦

The cascade of falling wisteria promised [Autumn’s] coming, and on the third day after Vishram’s slaughter, it ca.

A pulse like any other.

What sea of leaves encircled Fu’s holdings suddenly shivered, delivering a blanket of vibrant leaves across the myriad trunks that once held them.

[Tyranny] was upon them once more, peerlessly stringent on those that had cultivated as far along the Path as these three souls.

Or seven.

“Ask,” said Long, oddly contemplative upon the misty shore.

“Ask on what? There are many questions you would not return an answer for,” replied Fu, drawing deep of a flavourless pipe. “The line we dance is a strange one.”

Shuidi and the four [Spirit Carp] were engaged in small debate upon the lapping waves, distant from this.

Farther yet, Hushi held watch over the orphans.

His impressions were warm.

“A grand one. But you’ll spoil it with this directness. Better that I hold myriad mysteries to vex you - isn’t this the way of things?” grinned Long, though little weight was behind it. “We’ve duties each, and these wills oppose, even if your own is at another’s hand.”

“The Sect boils your blood, Long. As did these Vajra.”

Long inclined his head. “How is your history?”

“Ten thousand scribes are needed to catalogue a single mont beneath these vast Heavens. My history is known through broad strokes.”

The pervasive mists held no trouble for Long, for he withdrew a stone to cast across the gentle waters and his eyes did not leave it. “The Jianghu is a term no longer used. It’s relegated to ancient fools and those that don’t know its aning. Figures of myth road. Qi was abundant. [Divinity] and true dragons were as common as mud, and not. Those that still clutch this na have gripped too hard. It is… misrembered.”

“And this truth ca from the Azure Shoal Sect?” questioned Fu. “It would take one that walked it to know.”

Another stone was cast, and these ripples spread far.

“Old monsters recall it as ebb and flow. The ever-push and myriad pull of conflicting wills, thus nad the rivers and lakes. That is wrong. Jianghu- a term coined by she who stood tallest, the [Empress Above All],” said Long, his gaze far distant. “Nad for an orphan no greater than an ant, in a city no grander than a grain of rice, spoken for an act no more perilous than sharing a dirty dumpling. It’s of no consequence, for he amounted to nothing. But he held the Jianghu. A spark of vital spirit. That which no longer flows.”

Where is the carefree fool? The villain and stooge?

Fu stroked his whisker, feeling the Old One’s attention rapt upon this conversation. Yet no [Profundity] flowed despite the… gravitas with which Long spoke.

“Vital spirit. Rare, and yet these tis are not without heroes.”

Long’s stone spluttered on the third bounce. “Spittle from a muddied puddle. Heroes. No, Gao Fu, these are moist-nosed dogs. If the vital spirit flows through them, it’s no more than this. Before the very chains that bind you bound the masses, the Jianghu moved freely. Untainted by moss-coated fools and destructive desire.”

“You speak of [Dao Oaths]?” asked Fu.

His words did not reach the impassioned cultivator.

“Each turn of the Great Cycle. Of samsara’s wheel. No more a grindstone than an open sluice, perverting the Heavens. Those content to bow. To supplicate. To bend. Show their bellies. Sit. Roll! Die! Beg! The Empress’s will is etched upon the very bones of these lands, her Hollow Misery is guidance, not curse, a boon. Change is the greater will and yet these ancient fools beco mountains and think themselves profound!”

Dark [Intent] consud Fu’s mists, and the tranquil lakeside rumbled, frothing his waters and bending back the leafless trees.

Hushi and Shuidi blurred in return, rging their [Intent] with Fu’s own defensive shroud. “Long!” he barked.

The cultivator rounded. “Do you seek to interrupt ? You, chain-blind and tethered? Still you’ve continued to extol the virtues of serpents - subrging yourself in their will. Think on it, Gao Fu. See your blindness. Hear the fallacy when you proclaim for the Sect or feel your anger rise when snakes are rightfully slain. Bah.”

With a cutting palm, Long ended his rage.

Fu rose from a knee. His thoughts were strange, for he felt no danger in Long’s tirade. Not outwith the obvious.

It was rely misdirected.

“This is not the first ntion of [Dao Oaths], Long. If you wish to listen, there are better ways to explain.”

The thunder upon his face lessened in surprise. “We dance a strange line, as you’ve said. What words might an enemy share that end with belief? Heed my warning, Fu, if not for the thought that I see you as friend then as one that aims to use you.”

Shuidi scoffed. “Needlessly vague. Yongwu Long speaks in riddles.”

“Just so, as I am wise beyond comprehension,” he said, returning his childish grin. “But, a question is owed. On this I’ll speak plain.”

Much had transpired.

Many thoughts were to be had.

Fu stroked his whisker. “Tell how you closed the second [Paifang].”

“Oh that?” Long laughed. “Well, that is less complicated.”

🀨

Fifteen [Paifang] manifested overnight, and with it, Mingqin called for no ordinary council. Nor did it take place within her estate.

Jade Songbird City had beco oblong in its growth, consuming the surrounding bamboo forest beneath a disparate collection of landed Warships, fresh constructions and treasure-manifested structures. To look, Fu had counted the growth of myriad pagodas, and vast public works underway upon the settlent’s avenues.

Thrice as wide, to match the growth of each doorfra.

The lowest of her citizens will suffer first. Yet Mingqin’s kindness knows few boundaries, she will address the downsides of mortality.

A longer walk was required to reach her new seat, that of palatial feel and greater suitability for the prefecture’s head.

Hushi remarked most on the aides, all of whom supported fresh partners.

This density of Qi has not crossed any greater thresholds, but if further [Paifang] are to arrive with this speed then I foresee a leap into middle [Core Formation].

“This Gao Shuidi expects Mingqin’s address to concern this. With the resources of the Phoenix lody Coalition engaged with each growing [Paifang], she must either welco more factions as allies or cede further control to the roaming Sects.”

After small considerations to the palatial guards, Fu entered Mingqin’s new seat. Much of the bamboo had been retained, allowing songbirds to trill amongst its canopy. They spread into a vast open-air pavilion, the end of which held further doors and passages.

Fu admired the speed of construction, noting what might be possible had he not employed freshly inducted cultivators and assassins to tend to his holdings.

The list he had handed to Bojin would rectify that, at least.

He paused as another ornate entrance yawned open, leading to an unfilled cavern of a throne room. Intricacies were carved into the symtry of pillars ahead. All bore the likeness of lesser birds in flight, detailing their apotheosis into lode-bearing phoenixes where end t rafter.

Mingqin sat uncomfortably as a true City Lord, attended only by her aunt, [Dour Faced Strategist], while a throng of lesser stood so few steps below where throne’s dias stretched.

A hand stilled her at his entry.

“City Lord,” he said, dipping to an adequate height once close.

“Mingqin’er, observe propriety even when an ally nears. The ga is foul, but must be followed,” lectured [Dour Faced Strategist].

The City Lord’s lips pressed thin. “Gao Fu cares as much as I,” she returned, rising to address all that had gathered.

Each Coalition mber, and the addition of one more.

“As a show of faith in the Jade Songbird Province, Matriarch Cho lends us the talents of her sister. We welco Iseul to the Coalition.”

Fu’s martial partner clasped. “The Ninety Nine Palm Sect will offer more once matters are settled. Until then, accept this unsuitable token.”

Iseul. A na of the western Clear Sky.

Her two [Spirit Baboons] sat regally, projecting silent [Prowess].

“The [Paifang] situation continues to grow,” proclaid Mingqin. “Expansion of the myriad factions in possession of each realm prove a point of contention for my forces, as evidenced by the Plum Phoenix, Yongwu Long and Gao Fu’s efforts. Few are as righteous as the Ninety Nine Palm Sect. Disciples of myriad forces have begun to intrude upon the surrounding lands, falsely claiming land within this province. It… it is not the way I wish to govern, but these chaotic tis call for a show of final force.”

[Dour Faced Strategist] nodded.

“If the invading factions can act as they please without repercussion, ruin will swiftly co to my citizens. The threat of growing [Beast Tides] and villainy aside, I gather you to announce my intentions. Firstmost, I grant limited authority to each of you and your factions, stating that within moral reason, what acts you take are representative of Jade Songbird City’s will. Secondly, we have welcod two final mbers to our Coalition, drawn from neighbouring locales that our province’s values might be better manifested.”

With suitable drama, the great hall’s doors yawned open once more.

More strangers. More nas. The simplicity of slashing blades is a bygone thing, is it… oh?

Fu suppressed a smile.

The hall shifted beneath a weight of pressure as these arrivals postured forth.

Slow and reverent, an aging Vajra edged closer. His robes were of inconsequential quality and brown tones, marking him as a daoist of the ascetic order.

“Monastic head of the Golden Bodhi Sanctuary, Abbot Abhaya.”

“Amituofo. An auspicious day. This unenlightened soul extends welco to his benefactors. To till the soil for future generations, surely this the will of the [Dao]?” A force of unrivalled serenity mingled from his bow, at odds with the murder of accompanying crows that darkened Mingqin’s rafters.

“These growing lands are not yet so vast for coincidence.”

The Old One’s words confird what [Spirit] revealed to Fu. A shroud of [Qi Suppression] masked the daoist’s [Core].

Strange, and of [Blood Qi].

One witnessed to be employed by the mysterious House of Ma.

His appearance held only Fu’s attention, for the coalition ignored Abhaya in pursuit of the second figure.

An open pelt coat hung from the shoulders of this… feral cultivator, revealing an immodest display of defined muscles - upon which pristine teeth and claws rested. The cultivator’s immaculate hair was tied simply, cinched in place with pins of bone.

Joy fluttered about his head, plum-hued and familiar.

“Sister,” spat Zhu. “Outsiders,” he continued, addressing the rest.

The Plum Phoenix flared her [Intent]. “A tribesman. City Lord, you forget yourself.”

“It is you that forgets,” warned [Dour Faced Stategist]. “Dark-Berry Zhu leads the greatest tribe in Wisteria Peaks, hold your tongue. This neighbour is under our hospitality. Do not speak out of turn again.”

Long’s interest shifted. “Abbot Abayha, and Zhu, is it? My, how auspicious indeed.”