Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty Nine - Eternal Pillaging Technique

A sun hung above, dim against the radiance below it.

How shameful it was, he mused, that it rose each morning without showing the proper deference to that which shone brightest.

[Gleeful Viper].

Fu Gao was not worth her consideration, but bowed low in unseen corners before his duties were to begin. Among his throng he was first to rise. Udvah, Anfang, and Fen remained upon their knees.

It was a lonesome peak for three more heartbeats, then, it was not.

“Report,” voiced Shuidi.

All voices came bereft of humor, and not a single laugh-line crinkled upon the now-pensive monk’s fissured features. “Amituofo. The Thirteen Domains cannot be easily breached,” he said, speaking of the Heavenly split behind which each Pillar’s personal Empire resided. “This lacking seeker has travelled one hundred and thirty nine [Mystic Realms] to skirt their defenses. These formations require Senior Gao’s personal attention to disrupt.”

Hushi’s [Senses] were intent on Mangalam, for he had perceived a queer shift in his [Clouded Ghost Arts] for some few [Seasons] now.

It was as though Udvah’s [Prowess] had surpassed their own.

The douli’s rim dipped towards Anfang permissively, thus her report came. “I bring confirmation of the [Immortal Judgement Sunshine Arrays] delay. Disciples of Cloud Dragon Hall, the Darkberry Tribe and [Sullen Saber] currently work to maintain the number of [Mystic Realms] at the periphery.”

At this, Fu Gao iced. “Indeed. Such acts are still within our Master’s acceptable time frame. However, that Cloud Dragon Hall possesses the insolence to believe themselves worthy of dictating this most stupendous of moments… it is daring beyond belief.”

Fen’s attempt at presence was a vulgar, slack thing, scarcely excused by her talent. Her findings were modest, if not a mere relaying. “The Clouded Courts disruption of home territories began twelve minutes ago. Already have the One Hundred and Eighth, Seventh and Sixth had their [Heavenly Talent] rituals scoured. Those nine [Mystic Realms] we had ensnared for their voyage here have grown redundant.”

To illustrate this further, starlight bubbled from Udvah’s palm. He displayed there a trove well beyond his station.

The Clouded Courts own [True Orchid Path]. How it differed from those [Spring]-blind fool’s own imitation was the difference between Heaven and Earth, truly, for their mere thousands of charted realms was incomparable to the peerless talents of their Sect, and latterly, the Clear Sky.

Millions of woven pathways appeared, threaded as if by an immortal tailor between shining points.

“A matter for juniors,” offered Fu Gao. “Our purpose is singular. Disciples Anfang and Fen, you will ensure these brazen fools of Cloud Dragon Hall do not overstep themselves. Correct any that think otherwise. The Master’s brilliance must be realized by tomorrow’s end. No later.”

Both disciples vanished.

“Disciple Udvah, final matters stand while we have the hours to address them,” Fu Gao frowned. “An enjoyable exercise against that false serpent above. If you believe yourself ready, I offer the choice of accompanying us.”

Strange was the monk’s reaction. “Amutofo. Choice?” he queried, speaking the word as if it had long gathered dust in his mouth. “Senior Gao’s will is the will of serpents. This lacking seeker wishes only to be guided.”

Just so. All are merely vessels for our Elder’s will. While hours remain, we must show our diligence.

“Wen Pinxui proves ever dutiful in her findings. Her methods have revealed the [Primordial Lord of Accumulation] that has so wrongfully claimed our Master’s [Law]. To strike him is to weaken the machinations of those Unorthodox traitors, as will it honor our venerable Bingbai. I plan to assail the vaults of the Ninth Golden Reserve while we wait. A worthwhile exercise, no?”

Mangalam croaked.

Hushi did not enjoy its impression. “We are not alone.”

“The Descent of Four Clouds are among us,” shared Shuidi, clacking. “Know that no thing over these coming days is left to chance. Elder [Gleeful Viper] is already the victor, all we do now is tribute to that. Our absence until the time of reaping changes nothing.”

Udvah dipped. “Your juniors are not infallible.”

On this he agreed. “As you say. The Cloud Gathering Division shall be refreshed, in time. For the lesser reaping of Cloud Dragon Hall, however, they are adequate. Fortunate that our lesser selves have become idle in their training, for it makes cleansing these unworthy vessels less of a vexation. Now disciple, the vaults.”

🀧

The ostentatious nature of [Ninth Under Heaven’s] domain was too grand for one of his lacking [Heritage]. Among the Cloudy Serpent Sect there were many Numbered cultivators that knew where best to put their allegiance, serving serpents first and clan second.

This jade-soaked realm was anything but. A despicable monument to personal greed.

Fouler yet was the filagree upon this last [Paifang], gold-scored, intricate and upon its sweeping arch the emboldened characters of the Ninth Vajra. Some grand perversion indeed, for it was no small task to change the nature of Heaven’s own passages.

Fu Gao entered aside Udvah’s starlit form to be met with a ceiling of endless more. The monk’s [Infinite Gates Constitution] collapsed inward as he unfolded from the [Paifang], nourished by the energies upon crossing.

“If ever there was a talent to be envious of,” said Fu Gao. “It will be a boon to our great Sect.”

Udvah merely dipped his head in gratitude.

Golden firmaments littered every horizon beyond the solitary island upon which they had entered, reflected in a dark and tranquil lake. Where the Clear Sky’s night held stars of white and azure hue, all here were aglow in gold, and more so, were close enough that the vast orchestrations of distant Warships, fabled [Spirit Beasts] and strange metallic forms were plain to see.

Titans turned to watchdogs, it seemed, for of these myriad stars wherein Fu gleaned lesser vaults on his approach, the true center appeared.

A pyramid that forced Udvah to stall.

“Close your [Spirit] to it,” cut Fu.

Maelstroms of meaning surged about the sky-piercing structure. Not of greed, accumulation or envy, but of subservience.

Of charity.

Mangalam enforced an [Inner Art] to bring the pair peace, and still Udvah wavered upon the open skies. “Senior must go alone. This lacking seeker will only jeopardise what should occur,” the monk soon struggled, and withdrew from his [Inner Realm] a marble of rough wood.

Unremarkable.

“Sukhavhati. The return,” he voiced, pressing it to his lips. The wood adopted a violet sheen, blessed by his third [Constellation Seed], [Benefactor’s Eulogy]. All he had said inscribed itself in characters upon the sphere, infused with a borrowed portion of his power.

Shuidi took the marble, inspected it, and stowed it. “Disciple Udvah retreats. Perhaps he should find clarity before he is truly needed, lest he makes a mistake that cannot be easily remedied.”

“Just so. This lacking seeker would not foster [Heart Demons] at so crucial a juncture. Not all hold the same talent as seniors Fu Gao and Zhu.”

Fu Gao held his face impassive in the face of this disappointment. “Go,” he said, and in one small breath he was before the great pyramid’s [Defensive Array]. An intersection of pulsating strings finer than a ten-thousandth’s width of spider’s silk.

Across these many [Seasons], his [Senses] had soared. Thus, he saw it all.

Intangible threads of meaning trailed between each of the myriad lesser vaults, tethered to the pulsating [Core] of vast metallic constructs. Suits of intricate plate and appearance bearing wide [Demonic] faces and the menacing properties of an [Asura] Lord. Their jian, one for each palm, spanned upwards of a li in stature, and as they patrolled their respective hoards Fu sensed a ripple across realms.

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“Masterful. This undoing would take all of this wizened master’s considerable talents. Do you see it, youngling?”

The [Spirit Crab] firmed. “Formations interposed across separate realms. These constructs are source and connection both. This peerless mistress feels the [Spiritual] undercurrent here. It will reconstitute any souls before the next segment of [Array] is reached and destroyed.”

“A fitting summary. Indeed. Such waste, that it must be destroyed.” A genuine sorrow tinged the Old One’s voice.

With his hand some few widths from the [Defensive Array], he smiled. “It must be. Yet, I could not forsake your wishes. The formation scrolls may well exist within. They are yours, Old One, if they so exist.”

“Gratitude, youngling. This wizened master will commence when you wish. Unless-”

“The need for silence has waned. [Ninth Under Heaven] will marshall the entirety of his Clan to protect this realm,” Fu Gao shared. “This once, we shall act loudly.”

Brother.

Hushi emerged from the douli, and [Intent] fumed forth. “[Blackcloud Hegemon Arts: Desolation of Stars].”

A density of starry mists emerged from their [Spirit] unlike the gentle light of Clear Sky or [Ninth Under Heaven’s] twinkling gems of gold. These mists held an absence- an abyss of blackened spheres that rose, and had risen, for each [Constellation Seed] pillaged, each [Mystic Realm] collapsed, and each [Trial Guardian] slain.

As if [Ink] upon their [Intent].

Eight arms plumed from his rear, plunging into the fabric of this realm some half step away. He felt the [True King Grade Realm] shudder.

“Bow,” arrived their will.

The Heavens pushed back.

“Bow,” they firmed.

Force thundered through the golden realm with a deafening chime, setting each string of the vast [Array] to bandy and sway. Across these far-flung there came a concerted call to arms and grinding of metal.

The constructs moved as lightning.

Shuidi sneered at the powers governing this realm, be that the Ninth or the false Heavens that knew not the immensity of serpents. Her [Intent] multiplied Hushi and Fu Gao’s own, fissuring great spiderweb cracks from each tip of their mists. “How unwise that we must ask again. Bow.”

Whatsoever technique or formation powered these flocking constructs, [Spirit Beasts] and Heaven-destroying Warships gave no indication as to what they saw.

Even a void might be seen.

The Fatherly [Asura] had transcended notice long beyond entering peak [Core Formation], and so what they saw could only be described as the violent folding of a realm. A bending, flexing or warping as though this [True King Realm] was no more than a scroll of papyrus.

Grand was the pyramid’s mouth as the realm placed him neatly- reverently before it.

Shuidi clacked impatiently once the threshold was crossed, seeing the golden interior shift and elongate to become a thing that was infinitely larger on the inside than it had appeared from outside.

[Divine Sense] found the [Constellation Seed] to be…

“An entire [Season] in flight and we would not cover one hundredth of this vault,” Fu Gao mused. “To cause the greatest disruption, we shall let it come to us.”

🀧

Subtlety’s need had gone, though the Fatherly [Asura] would not forsake the ways of ghosts completely. At a junction no grander than any other some hundred strides from the pyramid’s yawning entrance, the [Shrine of Final Skies] loomed.

He, Hushi and Shuidi sat at its center, folded in the lotus. Thick were the mists crept from their pipe, wrapping each surface, hall and ceiling.

The Ninth entered in banded mail of golden sheen, cloaks billowing, feathers bright, partners radiant, then stepped, blurred, folded space, flew, shifted realms, and manifested [Dao] enough to splinter oceans.

To Fu Gao’s ear the ensuing sounds were childish.

Bang. Clatter. Whirl.

Like porcelain saucers upon hardened floors.

“[Twice Golden Tiger],” the Old One would say, or “[Endless Pockets Sage],” “[Horizon Reaching Coffers],” or “[Goldblooded Spear],” naming the fading contents of these illustrious armours as they became but wisps.

All gold to be swallowed by [Blackcloud Hegemon’s Breath]. Three conspiring maladies that gently danced from the disturbance of disintegrated flesh, falling weapons and the half-resilient cultivators that could survive a single step more.

Behind, the [Shrine of Final Skies] pulled.

With [Spirit’s] Path concluded the infusion of their will, nay, the strength of their soul was domineering. So rare it was, to be afforded an opportunity to use it fully. Their foolish lesser selves would no doubt smile at such a luxury.

Bricks drew towards their singularity, devoured and wrenched, like the aftermath of a dragon’s maw. Pristine jewels followed, then scrolls, weapons, trinkets and trophies, [Spirit Cores] thereafter.

Surface treasures- that which [Ninth Under Heaven] scarcely prized, filled his [Shrine of Final Skies] and scarcely quenched its hunger.

The foolish Ninth continued to offer themselves freely.

Our Sect’s juniors may have use of this dross.

Fu Gao caught a feathered helm mid-flight, turned it over, and let it continue into the singularity.

Upon his brim, Shuidi had the tides of poison ebb and flow. A macabre tease of shifting mist that invited and fooled, retracted and reached beyond to ensnare legions of these hapless, advancing fools.

“Better that you cease this now,” called one that could stand amongst it.

The [Spirit Crab’s] mirth grew. “It would be a great blow to [Ninth Under Heaven], no? To lose one of his own blood.”

A noble adolescent entered the miasmic fog, pressing once the bead-like, golden [Ink] that patterned her brow. “This ninth-rate daoist is named [Shri of Golden Plagues], blood sister to the venerable seat of this clan. For how far you have come, I offer my admiration. Thieves are rarely so short-sighted.”

Diamonds hewn of purest jade emerged from her brow, forming to her rear three orbiting circles of clear [Primordial Qi]. As he did, they drank greedily of the surrounding energies, diminishing the tide of his mists.

[Shri of Golden Plagues]. Is her arrival by chance, or does [Ninth Under Heaven] order her presence here?

It mattered little.

Her second [Constellation Seed] manifested as a glittering breastplate of interwoven scales, spreading in liquid fashion until all but her divinely flawless face was clad. “It cannot be said what madness possessed you to intrude here. Greed is evident, yes, for who would not covet all the resplendent Ninth hold? But to covet and to act are different beasts indeed. Such stupidity or will… yes, as said, this ninth-rate daoist offers her admiration.”

There was no need to speak, and so Fu Gao did not. Merely, he gleaned all he need know through [Immortal Arbiter’s Soul]. Her talent was middling at-

[Primordial Law] surged across her heavenly cladding.

Accumulation.

A cataclysm of weaponry materialized in ten thousand, thousand spaces all about the [Shrine of Final Skies]. Immortal-grade jian with such volume they seemed the stingers of uncountable insects, meaning-dense qiang that flew with the density of scattered pine needles, and a further arsenal that drove past his seated form.

If three paces wide.

Hushi shook.

Blurred.

Impaled four arms through her [Origin Core].

Extracted five bloody [Constellation Seeds] from her flesh.

Returned.

The rising hope upon a thousand faces fled, and some foolish few sought to reach out and grasp what strands of her still remained.

All this gained was a swifter donation of treasures for the [Shrine of Final Skies].

“The Young Mistress,” cried many- those of such lacking [Might] their eyes had yet to match pace with the events before them.

It is not enough. One death cannot sway [Ninth Under Heaven]. His [Primordial Law] holds a basis in material wealth. Our actions… complacency cannot be tolerated.

Fu Gao rose as three nigh identical siblings winked into existence at the assault’s foreground, unfurling great, broad podao from spatial storage to be levelled against him. Martial excellence radiated from their stances, gliding forth as they were in the company of metallic [Spirit Foxes], nine-tailed and breathtaking.

“Vengeance,” the first spat.

“Our sister,” followed the second.

[Blackcloud Migration].

No noise escaped the third but that of a visceral tear, of a palm against his [Spirit Fox’s] throat as [Spectre Steals the Stars] tore five [Constellation Seeds] from its flesh.

Hushi gained ten, reducing [Ninth Under Heaven’s] bloodline further.

“[Golden Wisdoms Triplets],” named the Old One. “[Ninth Under Heaven’s] youngest siblings. The weakest among his [True Lord Realm] relations. You would do well to hasten this, youngling. Lest the opportunity for true damage be missed.”

They were of one mind.

Thus the Fatherly [Asura] continued his [Inner Art], the long-past-ascended [Half Cloud Step], scything his chain through these hollow, golden immortals before the [Golden Wisdoms Triplets] had even touched the ground.

He gained hundreds of paces against them, staining these golden halls with the filth of their own blood, placing each whisper from the Old One in the rear of his mind as he moved on to the next.

A Golden insignificant would rise.

Fall.

Another would rise.

Fall.

Heaven-blind fools gathered in innumerable tides, becoming naught more than wisps as their cries surfaced.

More enraged. More distraught. More complacent.

For along his path of slaughter the subject of each wasted breath shifted further. No longer did “Vengeance,” scream from feral lungs, thick in vitriol and hatred, nor did words fly of “Villain, nine generations, honor or the favoured ‘you dare’.”

No.

Shuidi scoffed as these immortals roared. As they loosed screams to curdle mortal blood, pained by the reduction of their impure bloodline. Words of “Sister,” at first, graduating to “Uncle,” and “Cousin,” then on, to “Aunt, Father, Grandmother, Jeje, Elder, Mother.”

“Daughter,” shrieked one foolish soul, cradling the bare remnants of a golden cloak as her progeny’s wisps further polluted the hall.

So it was repeated with “Son.”

Fu Gao felt such sickness that he had to pause, unwinding before an immortal whose eyes and [Senses] strained towards the space he occupied. “They think themselves rivals to the Cloudy Serpent Sect? How poisoned their minds are,” he spat. “To forget reason in the face of such mortal sentiment.”

All that shared his [Spirit] were of the same mind.