One hundred moons taught that no course might be followed.

  No benefits might be reaped.

  Challenge this eleventh-rate daoist if you believe it falsehood, but ruminate first why these studies have not poised her cn as fourth or even third.

  An ear knows [Divine Q as truth.

  Know this as [Heritage] and [Bloodline] alone.

  Divine progeny, yet discussed in other works.

  For this tome is of Seats and Thrones, where Divinity stands.

  Eternal in memorial.

  Felt by all below Heaven as equal, for what they possess forbids without discrimination.

  “Divine Bones,” by [Lord Eleventh] of the Second Heavenly Records

  A solemn air shrouded the four as they remained in waiting. The grievance of gained attention had subsided in hours passed, dwindling when all there of [Demons] and cultivators bore witness to the grand nothing their spectacle had wrought.

  Yet with Yaoguai first and this disturbance of peace second, Fu could no longer act with subtlety to his station. His face was known, if not his allegiance.

  Udvah had yet to ascend.

  Tensions were high.

  Yashodhara half-slumbered, held from waking by a paste of her father’s application. A pungent gruel of [Spiritual] composition that the Old One could not identify.

  Something of [Spring] and foreign Empires.

  Then queerly, the conversation had begun to flow. Small things. Notes on history and gentle discussion.

  Nothing of Thousand Shore City. Of Feng, Yuling and Yuqi. But admittance of… white perspective, and half admissions.

  “-rger yet,” nodded Fu. “Though of the Four Corners Prefecture, I know not. A [Season] to walk from edge to center, if in pin gait. To cross the boundary to another’s domain- the Lotus Bde Sect or the [Venerable Reed Sage’s] nds, for this I would use a [Spatial Array].”

  Mridul poured a fresh cup for Kang Jae. “Drink, please. Though I am owed nothing for the torment I inflicted, it would please me, Master Kang.”

  But the meek man did, dipping his head with thanks. “[Intent]. I felt there not a malice but a weight. To produce such from individual grains without touching upon my internal paths, Mridul, you possess great talent. Refrain from harm spared you the [Trial’s] intervention. Those on the Path of graduated [Spirit] exemplify this technique within our nds, but to use it with granules is peerless.”

  “[Subjugation of the Dry Land],” nodded Mridul. “An [Art] to bypass [Spiritual] resistance and opposing [Intent]. Your words are kind, and needless. Surprising, for none but the castes of Red, Orange or Yellow would prize an attack on their person.”

  “Techniques are my Path. A catalogue. Though I… critique is rarely welcome. Even when in the employ of the great Sects would my words be spurned. It is- The [Dao Oath] conveys your sincerity, Master Mridul, and it is no loss for me save for the duress you pced me beneath.”

  Fu thought the man… forgiving? Accepting, perhaps, for he knew well that great men tripped not on molehills but mountains. It gave pause to wonder to which Mridul’s assault belonged.

  Was he too, not compliant?

  The cause is worthy, if a peril. Kang Jae must be killed outside the ears of Imperial cultivators and [Demons]. A time will come beyond this [Trial], we need only imprison him.

  But Mridul’s tale resonated well.

  The atonement he had spoken of.

  “Her future must be secured,” gestured Mridul, seeing Yashodhara’s chest fall. “The reparations for this act, well,” he said, unspooling a pendant. “Take this, Kang Jae.”

  His gift was small, hewn from polished amber.

  “Master Mridul?”

  “Within is the wealth you will treasure most. Small in consotion. An archive in storage, numbered in the thousands. Imperial Arts and Manuals. Please, I pray you excuse the dust they have accumuted.”

  Kang Jae bowed. “Unworthy-”

  “Life is a treasure, young cultivator. When next your own is threatened, do not acquiesce with such ease. I attacked you shamefully, unjustly and without provocation. Please, become no pawn of the powerful. I owe you more.”

  Fu felt the intensity shift from Mridul’s gaze. “Imprisonment,” he said.

  Mridul nodded grimly. “A gilded cage, or a pause before execution?”

  “That answer is not mine to give.”

  The Imperial brushed his daughter’s hair. “Then we might barter, Fu Gao, for the knowledge of a True Imperial weighs much.”

  Shuidi considered this, ccking towards Samudra. It was answered with a mencholy rumble, marking that this matter was no debate. The [Spirit Crab] vanished, wisping aside the slumbering Yashodhara that they might better converse.

  “Master Fu Gao,” Kang Jae interjected weakly. “Might I?”

  [Divine Sense] marked an oddity in the man’s [Consteltion Seed]. A power, fluctuating at the edge of Fu’s awareness.

  His death may not prove trivial.

  Fu lent a hand. “The secrets are offered freely, I will not stand in the way.”

  He is lenient with his life, as if this weighs him not.

  A [Spirit Grub] emerged from Jae’s hanfu, inching to join the meeting of [Spirit Beasts]. Hushi remained in his midden, eager for other secrets.

  Why does he offer this? Here we sit between two cultivators of unknown intention and goals not aligned with our own. The Imperial gifts his secrets knowing it will secure nothing, and this Kang Jae acts impartially to his threat. Walk softly, Shuidi.

  The [Spirit Crab’s] impressed reply was haughty, twitching Fu’s lips.

  “Of what you offer, I know not where to begin,” said Fu. “It comes to mind that I might ask on obvious matters, excluding the questions I do not know to ask. Thus, three.”

  Mridul half smiled. “Ask, please. I will try my best to gift these questions you do not know to ask.”

  “Then confirm a truth, firstly. Does [Sixth Under Heaven’s] highest realm possess the only [Paifang] with a connection to the Clear Sky Empire?”

  The Imperial shook. “Not solely. The [True Orchid Path] is prone to spontaneous change. Such is [Spring’s] nature. Explosivity of growth nurtures all facets, all peoples and materials. In abundance, the realm’s own facets often work against the order of control. As of three [Seasons] prior, I knew of ten separate realms with connections to the Clear Sky. Though the delineation of borders is unknown, for these are merely nds beyond to those of [Spring].”

  “Might you name them?” he asked.

  “With regret, Fu Gao, the True Imperials have tended to them. Few st beyond a count of weeks. If fresh [Paifang] had taken root, beyond this [Trial] I will have no means to inform you of them.”

  An arm tapped within Fu’s douli.

  “Severing the spread of [Spring] will lessen his abundance. The fresh [Paifang] will appear with less regurity.”

  Mridul looked surprised. “Yes,” he elongated. “The Cloudy Serpent Sect is well versed in the Emperor’s power. Few know the nature of the [True Orchid Path], or speak with such conviction of its truths.”

  “I- I do not follow,” said Kang Jae.

  “The [True Orchid Path] is a ttice. His [Dao], no, his [Spirit] is the agent of binding. Such is [Sixth Under Heaven’s] Path. To sever one is to reduce the whole. Abundance wanes as each part lessens. A growth less profound, a sun, dimmer for the loss. His power, reduced.”

  Kang Jae pushed his spectacles higher. “T-truly?” he said, covertly drawing a journal from his hanfu. “Heavenly scriptures speak of the [Inner World]. Those possessed of peak existences. A- a realm within the [Spirit], nurtured by aspects of one’s own cultivation. I… I have sailed a single river of the venerable [Allwater Sea Seeker’s] realm… but in openness, and to no insult, the feat is well overshadowed by this. One hundred thousand realms, bound… By the Heavens!”

  Sailed within an immortal’s [Inner World]. Is he of steeper heart than I imagine, or of a more silver tongue?

  Fu arrayed his thoughts. “Tell me of the [Spring] possessed by True Imperials. At this conflicts inception I faced cultivators simir to my vocation, bearing the same robes that cd you now. Those outwith the hierarchy of [Cultivation Realms] as it weighs against your Castes. It is a truth that I have had no fortune in confirming.”

  “True Imperials,” pondered Mridul. “A group of the citizenry progressed either by talent or heritage. The Empire of Abundant [Spring’s] ruling cns might accept this honor: their scions or geniuses. Others may yet be offered through merit, such as happened to me. You would guess this much, Fu Gao. What you ask of is the [Rite of Blossoms].”

  Listen well, Hushi. Here is a secret we might levy.

  “When deemed fit, a True Imperial undertakes this rite. Then it is scoured from memory. Of it, I recall liquids and nectar. A heat to blister suns. But to wake I found more than a mere purity of [Spring],” he continued. “You, of [Winter]. Kang Jae, of [Summer]. The [Tyranny of Seasons] instils its benefits upon you, and yet, only as standard. Fu Gao’s [Winter] grants him no benefits but a mild bolstering where others might starve. A True Imperial is one with [Spring], standing all the taller for it.”

  Hastily did Kang Jae scribble. “Please, honored Mridul, this fascinates me.”

  “Few however, see the honor clearly. For a True Imperial becomes a conduit for this highest of [Seasons]. The fg to an [Array] too profound to be named such. To walk in [Spring] amplifies all, and so too do you amplify [Spring]. A single blossom through which [Sixth Under Heaven] conducts his majesty.”

  “For each True Imperial sin…” Fu stalled at Mridul’s rising hand.

  “A plucked leaf harms no tree.”

  Contemptive silence fell across the party.

  This rite then, it is what has them more complete in [Spring]. But conduits for the Emperor’s power, this too is greater knowledge. The Sect will benefit, and Pinxui’s mind will be settled. Purity of [Spring], it is no wonder our [Hollow Ivory Splinter] gained so much from their deaths.

  What next to ask?

  Where the Emperor y weakest? In which realm might they cripple the most? His treasures, secreted from all but those of Mridul’s station-

  Udvah’s arrival wiped clean these thoughts, for the paling Vajra stumbled from the lounge’s doorway with much aplomb. His ugh gave chase, as ever, resounding with Mangam’s emerging croak.

  The [Oath]-bound trio rose in concert.

  “Brother,” smiled Fu.

  A shrewd crinkle overcame Udvah’s brow. “Brother,” he said, dispensing no bow. “Amituofo, a gdness that you are well.”

  “And you.”

  The others dispensed with their greetings, though Mridul remained close to his slumbering daughter. “Foreign cousin,” he bowed. “I hold a matter that concerns your talents.”

  “Uh- master cultivator,” met Kang Jae. “I…”

  “A moment of peace, if you would brother,” interrupted Fu.

  Golden light overcame them.

  ??

  Avenues from this small vexation fell as a gentle cascade. In arrival, in journeying footsteps, and the breaths about a settled Yashodhara.

  The simplicity of Mridul’s py was devilish.

  If the [Dao of Sanctuary] was known to him, Kang Jae’s death was no safeguard. It worked only so long as they remained within the [Trial’s] lounge.

  A mere [Silence Array] could end this farce.

  And yet-

  A chit was offered at the end of sweat-slick palms. “These interesting times we walk through, Fu Gao.”

  Fu stowed the chit. “Hmm,” he affirmed, for few words could benefit them.

  Sand scattered from Mridul’s chest, hexagonal as it fell in pattern. Concentric lines with a segment of characters within each corner. A construct of [Spring], of foreign Empires and of unknown use.

  The Old One spoke, naming it no trap.

  At the center of this pattern Yashodhara muttered the ramblings of disturbed sleep, though no energy had given rise to cim her. Some prediction perhaps, teased through her slumber.

  Mridul caressed her brow.

  Neither man interceded. Neither man spoke. Upon one knee at the sand’s boundary, Fu and Kang Jae made nary a move.

  “That first csh, I saw it. One glint within your eye, Fu Gao,” smiled Mridul. “Why you allow this encounter, and why Kang Jae yet lives. Scorn, perhaps. Disappointment. A kindness of understanding. I know not why you walk your shameful Path. An assassin, loved by shadow and foul deeds. But within you I sense something just.”

  Fu dipped his douli.

  “To Kang Jae,” he continued. “I say you are released from your [Dao Oath]. Short as this shame was.”

  “G-gratitude,” managed the meek cultivator.

  Then the solemnity bid further quiet.

  A flow of sand, in silence, as Samudra unwound from the skies of Udvah’s sanctuary to enshroud her cultivator. An embrace of gentle tides.

  Mridul pressed his brow against her maw, sweeping the radiant hide aside it. Once, and thrice, whispering until twelve strokes had been counted. “My heart, and love. Our final duty comes.”

  The great [Spirit Whale] moaned in mencholy tones, and they disconnected.

  In fashion with his name the Sun Demon’s palm adopted a bloody hue. One of fiery, crimson aura that violently plunged into his daughter’s navel. Bile sprayed from the near-dormant girl, arcing her forward at the waist.

  Then she returned to colpse as the sigilled sand fred.

  Kang Jae’s frailty drew a gasp. “A [Demonic Art]! Master Mridul, I- I-” His feet stole but one pace towards the [Array]. “Master Fu Gao, we- we must intervene!”

  From the midden, Hushi emerged. Threat in his gre.

  “Another step will be your st, Kang Jae. Only my bde,” Fu warned.

  Perhaps the man gasped, perhaps he did not. All focus was diverted to Mridul’s crimson efforts, and the sandstorm it wrought.

  A cyclonic frenzy.

  Wild.

  Until further chaos burst from Mridul’s spine. This same crimson, now a trunk of colossal length- its leaves of a ruddy red dew.

  As did a sapling rise from Yashodhara’s breast.

  Possessing of [Demonic Arts] himself, Fu felt no compulsion at this sight. The power pulsating before his [Senses]. This transferral of blood. Of Qi. Of [Dao].

  A wealth. But not of our Path. Nor our right.

  Kang Jae withered upon the ground, his palms raised in warding. “End this!” came his feeble plea.

  But the sands descended into further madness. A true storm to spin about the familial pair, masking all but the crimson growth of trees that cast their silhouette within.

  How Mridul’s waned to wax his daughter’s.

  Bloom came swiftly.

  A lesser trunk above Yashodhara, and a kernel for her father.

  The sands subsided.

  Yashodhara screamed. “Where!” cried her first lungful. “Where is Pakshi?” Her hands scrambled for purchase.

  Heartbeats passed.

  “Where?” she tore, rising to meet a gentle wall of sand.

  A great fin wove about her person, persuading her limbs with enough force that they settled within this cowl. These spilling sands pressed tighter then, guiding Yashodhara to turn and face what y at her feet.

  “Samudra. Where is Pakshi? Where…” Absence stole her features. “Father?”

  The Sun Demon y gaunt beneath her. Desiccated by sacrifice.

  Fu regarded only Mridul’s lips, for in their slight motion the surface had begun to dust.

  Wordlessly.

  Soundlessly.

  His st breath came in struggle.

  In vain.

  Yashodhara’s voice became a squeak. “Father? What… what have you…” in tenderness her hand swept his cheek, crumbling Mridul to sand. “Fa… ther.”

  The words of one that loses a stranger.

  Samudra’s second fin dipped beneath the dust of her cultivator, cascading each grain to rejoin her form. But for all pooled, more dropped. Grand rivulets from her tear-stained eyes, weighed by longing and mady.

  Through it, Fu saw how shallow a resonance this held. For Yashodhara wept not for her [Spirit Whale’s] impressions, pressing only a hand to her heaving chest.

  “You,” she breathed. “You. A cripple and a coward. Who are you? Bastards and cohorts of Mridul. Of my father. Speak on this! Speak on this now!”

  Kang Jae choked on what words he might have said.

  Fu did not. “Strangers, no more. A trick of [Karma] bound we and your father.”

  “Then you are no righteous souls,” she spat.

  “No,” he agreed. “No righteous souls. But you will listen, girl, and you will understand what your father has done despite it. This was his atonement, though he knew well that no one act might ever cleanse him of his sins.”

  Yashodhara fumed, driving a foot through the remnants of her father. “To rid me of Pakshi? He crippled his own daughter, stripping my partner so Samudra might consume her! What atonement is this?”

  “It is all he knew.”

  Then, a breath. “Why?”

  “Your [Sixth Under Heaven] sought his head. This was all he might do to secure your future.”

  Perhaps some facet of understanding rose in the girl, for her tongue held. She looked to digest the information until her eyes snapped up once more. “So he curses me in his stead? To walk the [True Orchid Path] while an Emperor seeks. Better he had left me alone! And you, timid little man, what pce have you in this?”

  “I-”

  Kang Jae stammered as the [Dao] about them quivered.

  “Brother?” whispered Fu, addressing the realm.

  The [Dao of Sanctuary] dissipated to return these cultivators to the lounge. To a score of vanishing stonework and the skies of a [Hollow Realm] beyond them.

  Our [Trial] concludes.

  Simple thoughts for a sight to rival Heaven. For these vast swathes of sky that shattered to return first the outer skies beyond this tower, but then the fabric that held them, shining an unparalleled blue the space throughout.

  [Imperial Realm 777] arrived as the [Demons] of this floor simply winked from existence. A wealth of [Spatial Q employed to whisk them from whence they came.

  The very world lurched, delivering Fu to a prior pce. A ptform between waves where first he had conjured this [Hollow Realm]. Some insignificant tract of nd wherein some several thousand cultivators blinked away the transition.

  Those of the Cherry River, Wayward Winds, Imperials, Sects and all that fell upon this spectrum of allegiance.

  Compressed by shoulders and jostling [Spirit Beasts].

  Fu was no soaring talent here. No [Cherry River Sage] to know all Paths. But at times, the Heavens showed even fishermen a simplicity of stars to read.

  Ten thousand weapons drew. Ten thousand [Dao]. Ten thousand jolts of blossoming Qi.

  An eruption as their enforced peace fled like wisping smoke.

  Ban Bingbai emerged at his right, stroking at his cobalt beard. He said nothing of orders, nor gave command. His affixed look was instead of expectant interest, and a show of more muted triumph than any here could have dispyed.

  The heads of many found their senior. Assassins of pristine bck hanfu and matching douli, more prominent in this maddening crowd for their familiarity. Of equal look to Fu’s Master.

  Waiting.

  So with a mere nod Fu directed attention to Yashodhara and Kang Jae, and in heartbeats the Wayward Winds had them vanish.

  Our work here is done. Our Master is returned. Why waste our breath on further pursuits?

  A resonance arrived among his disciples. His final call.

  Onwards. Ghosts need linger here no more.

  Power rose within him.

  [Dao of Four Horizons].