Chapter Two Hundred and Forty Nine - Gao

Commonly was pride listed as an immortals’ downfall. The man before Fu, Hushi and Shuidi had instructed them on this very lesson.

Disassociation.

Grand proclamations that held some kernel of truth. “I am the Storm,” among them, as were “We are Death,” “Our Blood is the Earth,” “This Will is the Will of the Heavens.” Truths indeed, but statuses to poison the mind over hundreds upon hundreds of moons.

We are the [Primordial Lords of Tribulation], another.

As Fu stood upon Jade Songbird City’s heavy air, he took some half meaning from these words. “Our own struggle clouded us to the efforts of others. To focus only upon how we might counter these Calamities muddied much, for we neglected to think that all factions would hold their own counter to one another.”

Hushi returned the mental impression. “Do as you have,” came Jinghui Hua’s regurgitated words.

Neither believed that this was explanation enough. Certainly her instructions carried deeper meaning, but now was no time to ponder them.

Bingbai paced, playfully.

A Master Ghost. An Eternal Assassin.

His smile was impish as he waved away the chaos manifesting below. A scene beyond indescribable. “The culmination of all pageantry. Is she not glorious, Gao Fu? To so flawlessly choose a moment. Oh-ho-ho, she bides her time while these lesser insects clash for scraps. Soon they will recall what they have so ignorantly forgotten.”

Fu dipped his douli. “Master. The day has grown long. What words and acts you hold in store, I would know them now.”

“Master? For that sentiment, Gao Fu, indulge me a final time.” A subtle brooch hung between his forefingers, and at its rise a grand nothing occurred. “Oh-ho. Further ignorance. Your betrayal goes below as it does above.”

To a ghost, moments were minutes.

Thus the arrival of the Cloud Gathering Division felt as if the burning of many incense sticks had passed.

Anfang arrived first, gleeful when she spied Gao Fu. She spread a wheel of spidersilk between her hands, flaunting dozens of [Constellation Seeds] as they appeared in one palm and vanished in the next. “Old man,” she grinned. “There’s a prize, no?”

The arrival of Fen and Zhu was simultaneous, though the former bore no small strain. “Senior, what is your will?”

“Master,” announced Zhu, showing no affection but to cup Tanshuai in his palm.

Last to arrive in these hostile skies was Fu Gao, and he was upon a single knee some paces below Bingbai’s right hand. Fu Hushi and Fu Shuidi bowed openly upon each of their partners’ shoulders.

“Listen well, disciples, for only once will I reveal this mistake. Your Master was blind. And to what? You might ask- gasping and shaking all the while,” he chuckled. “Oh-ho-ho. Blind to the disobedient traitors in our midst. Those I had fostered. Those that forsake [Oaths] and loyalty for short-sighted pursuits. I speak of none other than former vice-leaders Gao Fu, Zhu and disciple Udvah.”

Shuidi hummed. “Our intentions were ever clear, Bingbai.”

“Bingbai? Ah, good. To drop the formality of Master makes this less taxing on the heart. Fu Gao.”

Two cataclysmic blows met when Fu Gao’s blade met the head of Zhu’s lowered axe, distorting the winds about them. Anfang drew her own emei piercers many moments too late, disbelief plain on her face. “Master Bingbai? Forgive this interjection, but we are no traitors!”

A single tug upon his cobalt beard shifted the lines upon Bingbai’s face. The weathered wrinkles lost their grandfatherly edge, seeming then to grow darker and mirthless. As if one had asked a question of a shaded mountain.

“Traitors. No. But neither are you of use. My personal disciples- you were mere hands to ease their burdens. Such was my generosity. What use are tools without those to wield them?” With that Bingbai lifted a finger-

[Clouded Sovereign's Departure].

Fu’s blade exchanged places with Zhu as the two began this most final of clashes. A leveraging of chain against chain, while some paces distant there met an axe against some passive barrier of [Celestial Qi].

The details blurred away.

As did they.

Fu Gao met Gao Fu.

Fu Hushi and Gao Hushi.

Fu Shuidi and Gao Shuidi.

Each stroke a silent cataclysm.

🀧

The storm grew large enough that others could not be hidden from its path, though the list of all they passed - all their raging tempests lashed and had struggle - were of such insignificance that neither soul took heed of the Vajra Lords’ numerical statuses, nor the colour of the Matriarchs’ hanfu as they tore.

[Heartplume of Clouded Schisms] raged.

We feel their every thought as a distant ripple. Their every move. Yet so too are they our own techniques. An unrivalled opportunity if not of the highest peril.

More than the Thirteen Calamities, indeed, as to lose here was to lose eternal.

Fu struck his [True Wind God Arts] out with greater lightning than any had lived to witness, and his foot; arm; wrist; palm; knee; elbow were graced with an equal and opposite blow from his second self.

Reflections upon still water.

Thousandfold he diverted his strikes, as did Hushi and Shuidi taunt; twist; revert; shift another thousandfold faster than a mortal experiences moments.

Their halves continued to mirror each.

“Whatever future the serpents create will not be for the Gao,” he called. “Who better to know that their tenets are guided by selfishness and wrath?”

The skies, the ground, the reality of their surroundings could be no more than a child’s maddened painting. It was against this backdrop the six separated, birthing chains from their [Shrines of Final Skies].

“How far you have fallen,” cursed Fu Gao.

“How light and frivolous. This pageantry of the noble cultivators, and peerless young mistresses. It has tainted you all,” followed his Shuidi. “To speak of tenets with such confidence is sinful. This. All this owed to the Cloudy Serpent Sect.”

Dual [Intent] burst from these cultivators, loosed as if two oceans.

“[Blackcloud Emperor Arts: Desolation of Stars],” raged Fu Gao.

“[Pavillion of the Star Eating-Leviathan],” returned Gao Fu.

Both held [Intent] formed by the desolation of some thousand, thousand realms and some thousand, thousand [Constellation Seeds]. Similar, yet unique. Yet this fact was not remarked upon by the myriad souls clashing upon the ground, drowned by this tide.

Fu ceded a single step.

The depths of [Winter]. Cold. Oppressive. The spread of this is a chasm without remorse, in which things dwell even we might choose to face. How monstrous.

Their own [Intent] held none of this.

As one, and apart, these cultivators sharpened their will.

Constructs formed in Gao Fu’s. That of pillars akin to the [Shrine of Final Skies] and myriad winking [Paifang] that spawned and faded about the entire sphere of his starry influence, naturally clashing with the grasping, empty void of Fu Gao’s own making.

Amidst, or above them as they were, the Jianghu’s pinnacle talents could be felt. Hundreds of [Constellation Seeds] quaked between the pressure of these still-unseen ghosts.

Again Fu ceded a step. “Do you not see it yourselves? How dark you have become.”

“How dark?” offered Fu Hushi. “Our hearts were the same. We are the conclusion of Bingbai’s teachings, as would you have been if not swayed by pride and fame.”

Gao Hushi shook. “The [Dao Oath]. An amplifier.”

Fu’s [Intent] shrunk against the encroaching void. “There can be no freedom if we are tethered. The day would have come, heart of my hearts, when the serpents grew intolerant of our divided loyalties. What then? If [Gleeful Viper] decrees all outwith her [Heritage] be felled? That all without serpents cannot grow? This allegiance dooms the Gao.”

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The time for blades had momentarily passed, but Fu Gao brandished his to slice objection through the air. “You dare? Elder [Gleeful Viper] stands above all. We need not know her will. To serve the Clouded Courts is assurance manifest, for none other may pave a future forward.”

Bingbai has corrupted him absolutely. Does no reason exist within?

When the third step was ceded, Fu unleashed his insight. “[Dao of the Ephemeral Cascade],” he conjured, birthing a deluge of sudden rain from wartorn skies above.

Fu Gao’s [Intent] did not falter. “Our own [Dao] will not harm us. Blind fool.” With a turn of his hand, the rains grew further. Indeed, they grew colder, becoming shards of cutting ice. “Now, enough with words.”

[Profundity] massed upon each of their blades. As did it reverberate through their [Intent].

Clash.

Parry.

Blow.

The [Dao of Conquest’s Exhalation] could not envelop the winds beneath either cultivator’s control, thus, ended.

Nigh three thousand marriages of blade against blade, pincer against pincer, eightfold arm against eightfold arm.

[Clouded Sovereign's Departure] surged, met then by Fu Gao’s [Blackcloud Migration].

It was swifter.

Gao Hushi struck some thousand [Pulls] against his counterpart.

Fu Hushi stole their Qi in place of it, burning their [Core].

Blow after blow.

Struggling parry after mistimed dodge.

[Dao of Four Horizons].

An older [Dao Principle] erupted from the surrounding Heavens, wrenching a desert’s bounty of sand and [Earth Qi]-suffused [Profundity] to-

One clack and Fu Shuidi dismissed it. “Bah. This peerless ghost is unimpressed. To see your own weakness is proof of the lacking path you have walked!”

The three Gao continued to blur: continued to intersperse their many [Dao], [Intent], and martial stylings upon the other.

As did they continue to fail.

Only the [Dao] of our own insight might bridge this gap. That which was gained after the [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms] created this split.

Such a [Dao] indeed existed.

[Divine Qi] suffused their [Sublime Primordial Spectre’s Shroud] as they danced through Fu Gao’s blurring chain, rounded, and tapped a forefinger upon his passing shoulder. “[Dao of Eternity’s Tempest],” he softly spoke.

A teal vortex arrived without hesitation, and Gao Fu offered gratitude to all those it annihilated with its appearance. For within its raging loops there fit a thousand universes; planes; and worlds.

Chiliocosm.

Potential.

His [Blackcloud Migration] negotiated Fu Gao and his partners about the eye of this all-encompassing tornado, at difficulty.

“Insight that will soon be our own,” he said.

Fu closed his hand. “Once, we thought ourselves breezes, blown wayward. Growth led this deeper, thus we became travellers of horizons. A wind strengthened by all they have weathered. In darkest depth, coldest night, most arid of breath, strength of illusion, brightest of star. To have walked ten thousand worlds had us recall each trial, and yet now, we are beyond them.”

[Profundity] massed.

“Cease this,” ordered Fu Gao, shifting a shoulder to allow errant bolts of lightning by. “You only delay the inevitable.”

“The Jianghu’s breath is but a wisp of a greater storm. A dilution of which we are no longer bound. We are the greater wind, stemming from a thousand more. As [Primordial Lords of Tribulation], we are the gatekeepers to infinite possibility. Feel this now.”

Spatial distortions flew upon cosmic winds.

Fractured mountains flew from deserts beyond knowledge.

What flames raged were carried from suns above Jianghu’s, above worlds, that none had travelled.

So it came for [Mind Qi]. For [Celestial Qi], [Wood Qi], [Dark Qi] and each type contained within Gao Fu’s imagination.

Winds drawn across time, space and possibility.

Fu Gao fell prey to the fourth onslaught, and the [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms] resonated from a grand delivery of pain. For moments, he was lost beneath the winds that even his [Shrine of Final Skies] could not parse.

[Pull] was readied.

We must act swiftly.

Hushi, Shuidi and Fu tightened the vortex, knowing their counterparts could not pass its outer barrier. Thus it grew neater, condensing until these twinned cultivators could scarce dance from the other.

“[Dao of Final Snowfall],” they uttered.

Incredible strain halted Gao Fu’s approach, and their vortex shuddered. The arcing winds fell prey to a growing greyness, now consuming the teal as it slowed.

Deep groans rumbled from their throat as these twin [Dao Principles] clashed.

Potential against Endings.

Both parties blurred to the center of this cataclysm, hands aloft as if they were juniors, conducting their first [External Art]. From each of Hushi’s arms there beaded golden light, as with Shuidi’s pincers, and across showed the dark reflection of colourless strength erupting from their counterparts.

“You go too far! This act, this path you choose- it condemns our children!” he roared.

Fu Gao’s features darkened. “Hua once stated that one must rise high enough to never be struck or remain low enough to avoid notice,” he gently whispered, growing further incensed with each word. “This is all we ought to have become! The shine of sun-facing cultivators- this small delusion in which you have pretended to be honourable! It cannot wipe free the stain of our past! We were not strong enough to shield them then, but now, now we possess the means.”

More grey consumed the vortex.

“We are,” continued Fu. “That is why you must concede. With Hua, with Long, we will stand higher than any serpent. All that we have weathered, all the tragedies we have committed. They cannot be undone, nor do we ask them to be. But to align yourself with serpents when we have the strength to break free- that is no foundation for promise.”

Something occurred beyond the vortex’s confines.

Cold.

Arresting.

Both cultivators- no, merely Gao Fu and his party jolted as some incredible force swept across the area outwith their control. A wave akin to the change of [Season], yet no force of [Winter], [Spring], [Summer] or [Autumn].

They felt it in their heart first, as if a frigid seed was planted within.

A shoot grew next.

An inwards glance showed it was no seed, but an egg, cracking to reveal some spectral, serpentine apparition had taken root there. This snake hummed with [Primordial Law], and unlike with [Ninth Under Heaven], it withered as soon as it was planted.

Their [Sublime Primordial Spectre’s Shroud] had already tempered itself against this [Law], though, the force of a [True Saint Realm] was rarely without consequence.

He had hesitated.

“The pretender,” hissed Fu Shuidi.

Indeed, [Thrice Clouded Bao] had begun to move. Her [Primordial Law of Terror] momentarily shrivelled the surrounding vortex as Fu fortified his mind with [Primordial Qi], blurring his hand to continue-

When did-

Fu Gao’s hand was atop his [Heartplume of Clouded Schisms], enshrouded by a layer of [Profundity]-laced finality.

It squeezed.

In the breath between, Fu felt something slip.

“[Pull],” demanded Fu Gao.

And it did.

🀁

Fu Gao. Gao Fu. Fu Hushi. Gao Hushi. Fu Shuidi. Gao Shuidi.

Fell.

The only awareness these merging beings held was that of the fractured ground as they sped towards it, for they were unable to move; think; breathe or act.

Two distinct energies warred in their [Core], cycling and surging as the foolish, sun-facing Fu’s changes strained for equilibrium.

Their [Arts], their [Constitution], their [Dao], their [Prowess], even the composition of their [Cores] and [Meridians].

Fu Gao wrenched control of his sublimating body and stifled a roar as volcanic heat overcame every granule of his being. With a sudden gasp he took in some hundredfold more [Air Qi] from the racing, surrounding skies than moments before.

[Ink] burned.

The second breath was steady.

Fortifying.

Lightning descended from the Heavens, striking as they plummeted toward the earth. Through it, the melding of memories came.

[Seasons] of memories.

Of laughter, pain, [Trial], schemes, training, indulgence, loathsome encounters, foolish pride, betrayal and-

Together, the ghosts drank deep of this lightning, and drove it towards a despicable source of strength that now resided in their [Core]. A wellspring of traitorous [Divine Qi] that ought not to be their own.

The depths of their depravity were endless.

Such shameful acts forced bile into Fu Gao’s mouth, and Fu Hushi could not fathom how far their second selves had fallen.

“Had we done this earlier, worthy serpents might have claimed it as their own. [Divine Qi]. Master must know of this,” the octopus offered.

Fu Gao swallowed the remaining lightning, curling a hand as bolts arced between each finger. “Equilibrium must wait. Shuidi, suppress these changes. These disgusting [Arts] and false insights. Our growth comes second to Bingbai’s plan.”

The [Spirit Crab’s] attention went inward.

Old Master, what insight can you glean of their plans? What do Hua and Long attempt?

“Our lesser selves acted blindly. This much is plain. [Cherry River Sage] and [True Golden Demon] withheld all information.”

A simplistic tactic. Better that we hear it from that crone’s own mouth.

They took a third breath.

[Blackcloud Departure].

The rate at which they blurred- the swiftness would bring a grin to the blackest of souls. Fu Gao arrived in the midst of Bingbai’s clash as he lazily swatted aside myriad axe blows from his traitorous once-brother.

One hundred needles need not be used, but Fu Gao saw how close Zhu had come to immortality since they had drifted apart some [Seasons] prior. Another hundred moons and he might have made their Master sweat.

“Master,” he delivered, bending a knee upon open sky.

Ban Bingbai pressed the full weight of his attention upon the three, coldly. “Disciples. Is it done?”

“The traitors have been consumed. We are cleansed,” he returned.

Without mirth, his Master swept an eye towards the gleaming, white [Paifang]. The [Hollow Throne] about which only a handful stood in stalemate. “Then waste no further time, my true spectres. Leverage this opportunity. I would have [Cherry River Sage] trouble us no further.”

The douli dipped.

Shuidi clacked, eagerly.

“As you wish, Master.”