Hmmph... this junior is a good seed [Cultivation Management Quest]

The fighting at Three Frog City was horrible and just as intense as the stories made them out to be. Though, knowing Lady Callista was fighting alongside us certainly helped our morale. Even if we were fighting on separate walls, outside of her aura, everyone in my platoon could still sense her presence across the battlefield as we picked off the enemies filtering in one by one. For every street on the wall the enemies flooded with sheer numbers, we ground them to dust in another cul-de-sac. Only in my most naive of dreams, can I envision that fight to be that easy now.



For all the quality of forces we mustered that day, the quantity of our enemies had a quality all their own. The lower Cannibals ambushed dozens of our fleeing mortals in our backlines for every cultivator we lost, painting the streets in their blood, and given the Cannibals unusually static battle techniques, some staying power they normally don´t possess. This unholy stamina allowed the Cannibals to temporarily take possession of my wall, while we set up another sweep.



I naively thought our enemies would retreat in good order with their horrendous sustained losses and did not anticipate the enemy using the tides of war to take a meal for the way back home. No plan of mine would have mattered, since a Core Formation elder entered, cracking the city walls with ease, and his Foundation disciples butchered mortals and those in Qi Condensation alike as he battled Legate Callista across the entirety of the wall. The simple truth was that our Legate could not be everywhere, and so many mortals and friends died by the droves. Some died as distractions, others to fuel pockets of resistance and many more as sheer collaterals of the power unleashed. Buildings and Towers were crushed to hem in the paths of the enemies' possible ambushes. A few cunning comrades even managed to make their body a bronzen anvil in their last moments, through a clever combination of the phantasmal sight, the hoplite formation, our blood and numerous finely interwoven arrays along the small market street. It barely managed to delay two middle stage Foundation Experts from devouring the local Orphanage, making them waste precious breaths cutting the anvil with flicking motions. Their petty power struggles within and for their superiors´ position allowed no less. Our finest efforts did not amount to much in that chaos. For every group we saved, by phantasmal jumping them to safety, many more cultivators and mortals died.



We were, by the most exacting definition of the word, decimated. After the Core Elder entered our part of the wall, the tide shifted promptly and we scrambled to respond in any fashion resembling coherence. Hoplite, Cataphractoi and many more niche formations; we tried them all in vain. The Champions fought and we struggled to not become scythed crops by the Foundation Experts making a way for their boss and we were nowhere near powerful enough to contest the left- and right-hand men of this boss. We could not protect the mortals in our back from the oncoming enemy, so we stalled for time where we could and helped the evacuation where we could not stall.



We paid for it, dearly.



Near the end of their retreat Phaidron lost his head right next to me, protecting his mortal lover from the devouring attention of a 9th​ Heavenstage Expert. His blood qi flying from his wrist like the arc of the waxing and waning moon. The blood splatter from Phaidrons neck gave his head a small halo, where his corpse lied on the dry desert ground right in front of me. His lover, thankfully, only fell to her rear right beside him, her scream of terror lost in the cacophony of war and the shock of the moment. I nearly shared his fate, if it wasn´t for the blood cloying mirror I forgot in my robes after washing them. This treasure dented the cutting trait considerably and undeservedly allowed me to walk off the cutting technique of my betters with mere flesh wounds across my chest. The cut missed my heart by the smallest of margins, but the loss I experienced may as well have. My brother just died, buying me the most precious margin of protection at the cost of his live. I made the most of his sacrifice and did not allow the enemy to voice their exultance at their small victory.



Days after the battle, in a rare opportunity of time in these hectic times, our platoon set up the time to mourn the loss of our great quartermaster. His body may have already been prepared, but the worries of our young platoon weren´t helped with these material methods. We needed help for our minds and for that the clan's tradition of pyre-burning sounded just like what we needed. We didn´t burn wood, of course. That would have been too costly. No, we burned clay dolls, we burnished with our blood, to dust and simply sat around the pyre, mourning. The loss of blood was even for a wounded Golden Devil like me negligible and the colourful sparks were harmless and amusing. That night my healing bones still scraped against muscles, because of the array I used to staunch my wounds. Only the medicines, freed by the end of this "war" numb the pain somewhat.



By the clan's history this "war" was just another skirmish adding more ancestors to join the clan's monument in our memory and all of these brothers and sisters reached promised glory through duty. Even poleaxe-stuck-up-his-arse-Phaidron backed his words of duty towards mortals with the necessary actions at the end, knowing well that the weak of the present will one day rise to the challenge. Rest in peace, brother. Your duty is done and your child will have as good a live as we can manage to help her reach.



No one needed to voice our vows to honor him, for we all knew what must be done to ensure everyone's future. The pyre was burned, drinks and stories were shared the whole night through and we worked as every other platoon the next day. If somebody missed routine drills that morning, because they caught up on necessary sleep, then I have never received formal complaints I could act upon.



This horrendous pyrrhic victory for my platoon lead to a general new energy to learn and improve amongst ourselves. Alexandria widened her knowledge of medicine and weaving in the months afterwards, while I improved my knowledge of arrays and tactics, to further widen our options in the future. Strangely, many of our arrays use examples of captured Abyssal bee mounts to show how a theoretical bond process with an animal works and why the hoplite formation is so devastating against it in combination with the right arrays. The clan has the knowledge to bond Abyssal bees and raise them to Foundation if we wanted to, neat. Maybe we could even get some more sweet honey, no army marches on an empty stomach after all. Sadly, we can´t trade with the Abyssal Bee sect for tea sweetener and the little honey we get through trade is horribly tariffed.



Another interesting tidbit I discovered in the research process is an art all about rhythmically dancing on the battlefield to stimulate healing. It works as first aid, but not much else. No matter how many times Elder Dogar Ren puts in word like "unparalleled" and "turtle-world breaking", the qi flow of a Qi condensation cultivator like me just doesn´t get randomly better. Though, trying to improve on the half formed eight point healing part by adding my insight of phantasmal dance could give my step an invigorating effect on allies. A thought for another time, because that´s the last technique I have the time to research before I really have to double time it back home. My unborn sibling awaits and the new recruits are in good hands with Alexandria in the meantime. I may go to Jingshen without them, but good foundations remain important for them regardless. Ah, yes. Maria has stated in our correspondence that she´ll go the great plains. She´ll make for a great captain to train under, even if the great plains are not our usual battlegrounds. Eh, they´ll be fine with her. A few missions hunting bandits and making them help mortals will be all the training they´ll get for the trials in 40 odd years. We never seem to have the time necessary to raise real specialist in espionage and infiltration. Our approach will have to be enough.



After a few days I arrive in Ladagh, a town named after a nasty formerly local brain parasite the previous rulers of clan territory made very sure to annihilate out of existence. They must have been truly terrible, if the Jingshen were willing to help with equipment cost. At least these meat dwelling worms are out of the picture and I can look at people in this town without fearing for my dantian. All around me people are hawking and buying wares in small quantities, goods off various sizes changing hands from all walks of life, from the beggar to the local prostitute, the guard to the merchant and the mayor with traveling artists of all people. Why the mayor needs trained desert sparrows is beyond my ken and thankfully not my problem. I can focus on the old hag calling me down a dark alleyway. Strange, but privacy can be necessary if the object of discussion is cursed in some way.



"Hey sweety, would you like a palm reading, it´s free for you!" her right eye rolling around lazily in the eye socket while she gesticulates wildly inside her voluminous blue robes.



"Sure, why not. Any preference?"



"The sword arm, please dear." And I stretch out my right arm, wrapping my dunelit robes behind the wrist, so she can see the hand easier.



"Ah, yes you have an auspicious fate before you." Oh, that´s never good.



"Hehe, don´t worry dear. Live finds a way."



"Anything definitive you want to tell me?"



"Oh, ooh sorry. There is dawn, blue and glorious looking down at the young and the old. The dawn hails every new life, looking kindly upon those who cherish them as well, like you.



"What, how did you-"



"By making wild assumptions about you of course and thank you for the confirmation." Hmph, I got played for a shitty joke.



"Oh, don´t be like that, the blue dawn part was accurate I assure you."



"Then what would you recommend doing then, if it´s so important for us that you gift me this palm reading without cost?



"Oh, Mother Bixia has some ideas for you dear!" That enthusiastic explanation took another half-hour and I didn´t care, because I could spare the time for the first time in decades.




The sun of the dusk shines into a small room of the blue swan, a brothel of high renown the hag assured me many times. There I got the pleasure of hiring the young woman Lin to spend a night with her. Many would think we directed our course towards horizontal tango and you would be wrong, because I attract sob stores like moths to a flame who, after brushing her hair for the better part of the evening, told me all about her family troubles. Her mother has been missing for a decade and her father being the brothels accountant is the only reason the sleezy owner didn´t try to sell out her virginity sooner. She is 18 and the owner put the topic up for debate half a decade ago. Obviously, he hasn´t made many friends with that attitude.



"Oh Lord Angelus, I wish I could claim my inheritance from Boss Huang, but it´s no use. We aren´t strong enough."



"And you want me to help retrieve it from a special basement barrel my strength would allow me to open, right?"



"Of course, yo-, oh."



"Yeah, your praises and affections specifically how strong I am made that kind of obvious."



"Then, will you help? A finder's fee from my mothers` inheritance should pay you tenfold for your effort. She was a cultivator after all. She could even fly!"



Wait, what? In this far-away town? "Fly?"



"Yeah, she mounted her huge bee, in the night of course, then silently flew us wherever we wanted. It was so exciting!"



"Please, help!" And she is on her knees, begging me for help. I almost regret being unable to not help people in need. It would make life easier, but also less rewarding.



Even then, a flying bee needs to be investiga-. I am trying to convince even myself, ugh.



"Yes, yes I´ll help."



"Really?" she jumps onto my lap in her excitement. "Yeah, I think we can."



"Oh, thank you!" And there is the hug, what a nice gesture from this innocent girl. Alexandria would have a field day teasing her, heh.



Before long we were in the basement and opened up the special barrel, standing lonely in the middle of the room. What Lin`er failed to mention and I failed to realize was the trapdoor opening after someone tries to open the barrel. Thankfully the landing was soft on the mountain of moss.



"I-I am so sorry." Ugh, my robes are all green now, washing that is going to be a pain.



"I already said I am fine, let´s just go and meet your mother."



"But she`s been missing for a long time." Her wild hand movements are cute.



"And I can hear a woman, who sounds just like you, snoring up ahead."



"I didn´t sleep while you brushed! And she´s off to the races, finally moving towards the woman with speed.



"My cultivator ears heard something different, though. Heh, if only my platoon was that easy to motivate into a run for exercise. Oh well, let´s see why the woman saw it necessary to miss so many years of her own daughters' life and why I feel so little blood qi in these caverns. Curious.



The tunnels quickly open up to a dank and even more mossy cavern, which glows strangely with pollen falling from touched moss the closer we get to the cavern. In the center I can see the woman, with red hair similar to Lin`er straddling a wounded Abyssal bee. The bees clipped wing and missing right protrusion obvious to anyone who saw a bee before. The next obvious realization is the lack of wind in here. The air is still and full of red pollen, released potential in a form of matter. Something tells me the woman did something special.



"Lord Angelus, please come. She isn´t responding!" Quickly leaping the distance allows me to appear beside her in the next breath and properly look at the woman.



Even with all the red pollen piled on her, her hair and skin were still looking healthy beyond a mortal's ability. The problem was obviously not external, it lied in the dantian. Looking around, I can see the dirty, but always reliable set up for a transformative ritual, though into what state is the question? There is no extremity she wished to get rid of, since that part would still lie around and any of the more common uses, like general beautifying ones, are trivial and can be bought literally everywhere. Even the goat men tribes have rituals for that and they make the clans general fortune look paradisical in comparison.



After shushing the excited child, and making sure the sleeping beauty is only sleeping, I set up a field divination array. The dance reveals many things and contrary to the expectations of many, can also take a peek into the dreams of other beings, if given the chance. The prone cultivator of a lower heavenstage is the perfect target for this and reveals me many sights. She dreams erratically, switching between the consumption of piles upon piles of human flesh, with uncountable mountains in the background and the other dreams focusing on quaint dreams of a quiet life with her daughter and true love of a mortal for his character I have rarely seen. She enjoys these dreams so much that each switch lingers more and more on the quaint life, blood slowly seeping into the frame each time. So, that´s how she did it. Interesting.



"Did you find out anything? Is she going to die?"



"Yes, and no."



"To what?" Ugh, I walked right into that one, didn´t I?



"I found out something and she is not going to die, well not sooner than any other mortal."



"What? She´s a cultivator, though. Her hand is even shining like a flame, look."



"True, she is a cultivator, but she exchanged her cultivation years someone earns by becoming one so she can spend more time with your family in the future."



"Whaat!? That´s so awesome!"



"True, you want to help waking her up?"



"Do I? Of course!"



And with that acceptance of my lead, we danced counterclockwise of the eight point formation. Before long the pollen released their blood into natural qi and the rank air became fresh.



"Mommy, mommy, I found you!"



"Ooh Lin`er, how I longed to see you so grown up! You have become so beautiful."



"P-please don´t leave again!" what a touching sight and I can´t help, but dance to the underlying beat of their expressed love. Slow and ponderous feels right and… fun!



I did not mind the girl's excitement, seeing family after such a long time of absence is worthy of catharsis. The dance was finished anyway and I simply danced, because it was fun. How liberating. Why did I ever stop dancing for fun?
_______________________

Words: 2912, An Omake where Zeno rediscovers his love for dancing and heads home for respite inbetween the seasons of conflict.

@Alectai , @Mochinator a new Omake for the Omake throne. Please add that to the spreadsheet.

Omake-Reward: Life Saving Treasure(LST)

Man, I can´t wait to finally be home again! Mother will be all over the little one, heh. Thankfully Dad warned me of her new cucumber addiction or I wouldn´t have thought to buy a barrel worth to bring home. That said, I am thankful kit'er only gave me a raised eyebrow when I brought that particular expense to her shortly before I left. It seems even her suspension of disbelief can be broken. At least she will have plenty time to think over the various reasons my mother claimed to need something so specific and mundane. Cultivation boost, heh. Sounds ridiculous even in my own head.



Huh, I know these flagstones. It should just be over the next big dune. I might even arrive before lunchtime!



Wait a minute, there shouldn´t be so much smoke and that qi...oh no.



As I crested the dune, I saw everything I wanted to come back to go up in flames.



The whole village is centered around a small oasis in the centre. In the body of water should be swimming thousands of koi, one of the few places in the desert where they appear naturally through a spring leading back into a deep underground cavern under our manor on the hill. Every spring the adult koi would spring out of the oasis far into the air. Some of them would land on the brick houses, to be used in meals in our three day festival to celebrate our bounty. Most of the koi typically land on the finely woven net we span over the whole village to catch them for their decorative scales. The local smith typically contributes lots of reforged bronzen pikes to dry the fish, while our seamstresses weave the month beforehand from dawn till dusk in preparation and the merchants bring specially prepared goat wool from the goatmen tribes from the far south of the desert by the wagonload. Every child of the village would learn to weave from a young age, helping the seamstresses make it in time through sheer numbers and discipline. My mother loved to watch me as I spun my own -inferior at first- pattern into the net of the community and likened this process to how the entire clan works on a small scale. These were better times. Times the enemy has taken so many of our village.



All that toil and time was now for nothing as our enemies had set it ablaze. I won't let them get away with this!



Before I realized it, I started sprinting and my gait ate the li to the village gate in mere minutes. Even from the distant manor I can see smoke wafting to the sky. Shit.



Thankfully I don´t have long to contemplate the losses I have already suffered, because in front of me are comrades, which are slowly driven towards me by these ghoulish two-legged amphibians.



Being an unknown gives me an advantage I don´t squander and cut the necks of a score attempting to vault above the legionnaires shields and place myself into the formation to take command. The ones I don´t kill, are driven back by my prompt reversal of my comrade's fortunes and the revitalized formation. They seem to act less like typical cannibals and more like a pack with barely any survival instinct. Even the cannibals would rethink their stratey after having seen their comrades getting diced in short order and knowing the lone person responsible for it is still fresh and in hoplite formation. Judging the intelligence behind their eyes, that kind of complexity doesn´t seem to even occur to them, because this pack returns quickly to jumping and biting at us with their misshapen teeth. After the second round of frog-spearing it´s obvious to me that they possess no other purpose than wasting our time. Nothing they can do hurts us, but it drains our valuable qi. Knowing their martial weakness, I order us to divide our group of ten in half and proceed to hammer and anvil these pests in between our hoplite formations in short order. At the end no less than 100 frogs lie in front of the village gate, a veritable small hill of corpses. While a perimeter is established and Xylophos reports, two of the militia throw the corpses into the nearest fire. No one wants the enemy to get access to so much blood in the middle of our engagement, especially not possible enemy reinforcements.



With the orders given Xylophos approaches me. "Sir, it´s good see a friendly face right now." The relieve on Xylophos is easy to spot and quickly allows the group to return towards familiar discipline.



"Likewise, Xylophos. I wish we could talk more, but our duty comes first. Give me a quick overview."



"Yes, Sir Angelus. The village is burning, due to a day raid of various bloodpath cultivators. We saw some Devil bees and some strange frog people in our previous clashes."



"Their corpses?"



"Fed to the fires, like now, when we can." he continues after my nod of approval. "Most of the villagers are in the manor, where the healers and their expecting wives reside. Therefore we lost only most of the village men to the raid." Shit. I really hope the smith Bucerius and his daughter managed to escape. Their smithy is close to the main gate of the village and would surely be the first point inside the village where guards could contend the enemies advances in a normal siege scenario. Shit, if we are unlucky, they could have set the array bellow to blow up once someone comes close! Stop. Zeno, Focus! This is only speculation for now.



"Kids and the elderly?" I demand hastily. I am greeted only with silence. So, most of them are dead then, shit. Fuck! Why do I taste Iron? Ah, I should stop biting my lower lip. Don't want to give the enemy even more power. Learned habit and a supportive hand on my left shoulder allow me to focus once more on the important stuff.



"Captain, Patriarch Angelus is engaging the Frog path expert in the surrounding dunes and the manor is sealed through the manors array. What´s your command?"



We can´t afford to look for survivors in every house with our paltry numbers and the raging fires. Also, remaining out in the open would see us becoming collateral to that Frog expert fighting in the distance or some possible Devil bee expert we haven´t spotted yet. So we can only retreat unto the manor and hope there is still someone to be saved. Even if the Devil bees have only cultivators in the qi condensation realm flying around, we have a better chance fighting under the arrays of the manor at any rate.



"We move to defend the manor. The healers need to work undisturbed!" With a quick salute from the legionnaires we quickly assemble in marching formation and make our way up the hill, where the rest of the villagers and mother are bunkering safely, hopefully. Please.



On the way I get more information on the how and why of this disaster. The frogs seem to get stronger and more frog-like by daylight, while some abyssal bees are searching for something in these dunes. Why else would they ignore this isolated group in the village and head for the empty caves nearby? One legionnaire helpfully points out to me that there are easier targets in the surrounding region and they would have needed to almost head straight towards this place or their speed of arrival wouldn´t make any sense. I can´t help, but agree to that. Cannibals, no, Blood path in general are typically not this coordinated. Fuck the heavens! This coincidence is suspicious.



As we arrive at the manor gate with its intricate carvings of events my ancestors have witnessed, our platoon finally gets a look at what could be the head for this insane operation. Clad in ruined hides with the Battle Blood Sects emblem in tatters and bulbous arms peeking out at the sleeves, he certainly looks distinct enough from the back that even a mortal might think of him more than just a slave to blood power. The door and windows leading inside the manor, thankfully, look as pristine as ever behind the repeated attempts by these...frog-ghouls…to bash the wooden frames out of their hinges with raw power.



The good news sadly stops there. A few half-eaten corpses lie at the sides with one of these ghouls actively salivating something acidic on our fallen brethren corpse right in front of us. So, we are not facing the sharpest tools then, since we didn´t bother to be silent and they still didn´t notice us. Pathetic.



A quick spear thrust by Xylophos and the quick corpse-vaulting behind the manor doors we close behind us, seems to finally get these assholes attention. The horde stops their pounding at the manor walls, while we form our hoplite and advance. No sense for this rare chance of `Ambush` to go to waste.



"Huh, what do you wan-. Shit." With that he finally observes us fully with his fishy looking eyes and readies a purple glowing slingshot. Our enemies are concentrated before us. We sprint as one.



"Surrender and get lost or die!" Impressive what a cannibal can-. That thought is quickly interrupted, because a gale of wind interferes with his useless shot before it can sail over us and forces us back into the courtyard. Our formation holds.



I can hear their buzzing before I can see them sitting on top of their bees in a lose formation above the right walls of the manor courtyard. Tch, shouldn´t have gotten distracted by an easy kill. And the slender leader of this trio is in one of the early stages of Foundation Establishment, just great. The day keeps just getting better, doesn´t it?



"Hold it right there, Devil scum. I, Expert Pristine Puncture, demand to know where your bitch has hidden the chains of karma. They belong to-!" A spray of acid, which she quickly swats away with another gale, grabs her attention.



"The fuck they do honeywhore?! These devil bitches have enough treasure of flesh and medicine hoarded to fill everyone and our gluttonous new overlord, Frog Gulper!" His, no doubt inspiring speech, is quickly undercut by him nursing his burned hand. Ah, their qi signatures are approaching.



"Err Sir, are we -?" a glare of Xylophos quickly shuts that idiot up. This is good, we want them to fight while father deals with this Frog Gulper in the distance. While these two and their minions are engrossed in their discussion in the right side of the courtyard and our slur flinging enemies are getting closer to each other with every shout, we slowly march and pierce our way through the ghouls to the manor door. Better to have three sides to defend than all four.



"Have you battle blood insects not learned any manners? Don´t interrupt your superiors while they are talking!" Her childish temper tantrum and their fight is quickly interrupted by something moss green crashing into her, making her shut up at least for the moment. That undefinded object quickly turns out to be someone of her coterie throwing a particularly energetic frog-ghoul off of her and towards her mistress. At other points in time, without so much hatred inside myself, I would have enjoyed the sight of their sizzling dresses. Right now, the enemies before us have priority. And they are not focused on us, at all.



The horde of frog-ghouls and their boss care little for the impact and rush without hesitation towards the Devil bees to start clawing at them, all the while something acidic is sewing in streams out of their bulbous eye sockets.



With hand signs every legionnaire learns our group quickly learns of their new orders, to advance without disturbing the squabbling enemies, towards the manor door. My quick thinking and the platoons' discipline are quickly rewarded by the sounds of speared ghouls and gurgling devil bees descending violently on the vacated courtyard.



While Expert Pristine Puncture has the clear realm advantage, the frog underboss clearly knows to use his disposable minions better. For every 10 pack of frog-ghouls speared by the few bee ladies, the ladies lose one of their own. Pristine Puncture of course is no slouch and tries to hack of the head of this pack repeatedly, but fails everytime by a quick switch of the underboss with one of his minions.



This is clearly a fight of attrition and we are, for once, positioned to mop up the flagging enemy remnants. At least that was my idea, until something bronzen falls from the sky, directly into our courtyard. Xylophos, being no slouch, quickly rallies the men, while I spool up a new qi cycle of the hoplite formation.



Mere moments later the commander of the abyssal bees is the unfortunate landing ground of our bronzen missile and quickly vanishes in the dust. The bee coterie looks no better and is either a mere smear on the ground or quickly trying, and failing to gain height. The Frog-ghouls, of course, quickly chase after the scattering abyssal bees and make even the fastest among them descend due to their guttering qi. The bulbuos underboss even managest o take a bite out of one of the still living abyssal bee coterie member, starting the regeneration process of his lost left arm.



As the dust clears, we can see my father, Georgys Angelus, climbing out of the rubble with various cuts and bruises and ink spilled on his arm made of flesh. His mechanical saber hand pointing, but shaking at the enemy. The character for cutting slowly dispersing before his sword.



Everyone, recognizing a superior in need, immediately rush to envelope him in the hoplite formation and ready for his command. His steps inside the formation quickly leading us back before the sturdy -array reinforced- manor door.



"What is your command Father?" My question gets answered quickly with a booming voice, making the dust rise from the nearby manor wall shingles. "Protect the ones in the manor at all costs; now, ready your weapons! Frog Gulper isn´t finished!"



As if he was summoned, Frog Gulper appears hovering on the manor wall with a husk in one arm and a crude Warhammer in the other.



In spite of every common sense demanding that he should attack us at first sight, he starts with a monologue and a crooked smile on his fat lips. "Haha. * cough* You think you can protect my meal from ME with these lowly warriors? Look at you! Your mortals lie in their own shit and in short order your freshly birthed spawn will allow me to climb higher than you worthless devils could ever hope to imagine! Give up now, brat and I, Lord Frog Gulper, will graciously allow you a quick end by my hammer before qi exhaustion takes you.



Father, ever the quick one, answers not long after, "Counter proposal. Why don´t you take the short way towards the heavenly vaults and die already!" The sentence is punctured by his hand pulsing a radiant colorless burst of qi. The courtyard walls burn with bronzen qi. The qi in the arrays, previously marching to uphold the structures integrity turns outwards. Spears of bronze form evenly along the inner walls of the courtyard pointing at the enemy.



Frog Gulper answers the escalation in kind and tries to rush us down, while we are in formation. We hold, but the now flimsy manor door breaks as we are pushed into it without our consent by the enemy. By the second swing most of the spears among our ranks have lost their blades and my own sabre got turned to trash by the acid afterimage of Frog Gulpers swing. Only my father's steady sabre still allows the hoplite formation to function in this desperate situation. The might of a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator is truly frightening. At least I am not dying alone, because alone I would have long since become a smear on the ground like Pristine Puncture.



As our spears are no longer suitable for combat, I am handed one of the spare shields, which we all equip for the incoming decisive blow. Thankfully, our clashes seemed to have bought enough time for the chamber guards to arrive, who quickly form a new line behind us to strengthen the defensive power of this formation through sheer quantity focused on one spot.



Unbothered by our reinforcements, Frog Gulper empowers his right arm, from forearm to hammer, with a purplish glowing qi. "You cattle continue to dare?! Frog catches seven flies blow!"



"We dare!" we match his swing from above as one with our combined thrust.



As Frog Gulpers third blow from above hits our formation the courtyards spears hail like a rain of lighting down unto the four-pillar cultivator, hurling the bulbous and forgotten under boss cannibal along like cattle in a hurricane.

Our energies clash and for a moment I can´t see a thing. Only my qi senses allow me to glimpse what this cacophony is and all I can discern is an air chocked to the brim with bronze and blood.



After the air clears. Only Father stands in the front row. Frog Gulper still stands opposed, his beating heart for all the world to see. I quickly find out my bruised body lies at the far side of the left ship, atop the sitting table. My armor is definitely ruined after this, but it protected my special dress at least. Positive thoughts Zeno, positive thoughts.



As if everyone acted out a play the world seemed to still and everyone stopped to ascertain the new situation. That moment does not hold for long as a battered Bee Lady, with a fresh meal still on her lips comes in swaggering as if she owns the world. Shit. Shit. Fuck! She should be dead!



She does not give me any notice. Oh, thank the imperator for small mercies. Frog Gulper and Expert Pristine Puncture simply exchange nods and form up in a line. Her position behind his form clearly intended to punish anyone with her lance who dares to strike at Frog Gulper in between his swings. Fuck, two cannibal factions working together against a common enemy, just what I needed today, ugh!



Father asks, in between loud gulps o fair, "What does it take to kill you two?" The reinforcements in the second line meanwhile, use their time similarly wisely, and form up besides father to replenish the men on the frontline lost to the first bout.



We need something, anything to get an advantage against these two or we are dead! Father can´t contest their might alone for very long. Shit! Frog Gulper alone is mid FE and the Lady, not far behind and I am still too weak to matter in a direct lone contest. SHIT! It´s a fucking miracle that father survived so long. He must have prepared beforehand at least for one on his level, but why would we, the Golden Clan, want the Treasure chains of heavenly karma from this bee bitch anyway? They are useless! We are already cursed by the heavens, why we would want more hatred from heaven with a slight chance of a personal small realm advantage? Ugh. Focus Zeno, this is not the end, you are not dead, yet.



Wait, did Frog Gulpers flesh always sag like that? He looked far more *fresh* for lack of better word under the midday sun. If I could only get him into a dark-.

____________________________

"The point, silly, is that the heavens doesn´t like needing to observe you going through multiple subdimensions in quick succession regularly."

"But every technique acts in some way the heavens don´t like."

"True and the only reason I mention it is because of the inventor. It might one day think you too much effort, if you use it too much." The Heavens having a bias, who could have guessed. Wow. [Zeno Angelus 9 - The Siege of Three Frog City 3]

____________

Oh! Ooh! That might just be crazy enough to work in this shitty situation.



I just need a direct connection to their meridians near their hearts for this harebrained scheme to work. No big deal, right? Right?

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Being unnoticed by these two should give me one chance to cut their hearts open in one strike and path our souls to a dream, hopefully. Alexandria's robes give me the confidence that my control of qi can be good enough. At the very least they won´t be any concern for the rest of the family, though never being able to see my sister kinda sucks.



Now or never.



Breath in…



I cut and my future is consigned to heavens shadow, whispers of heavenly shadow flowing along the path of my blade.



Frog Gulper moves a muscle and I jump behind the Bee lady, the shadows hiding my ambition from heavens favored for this single breath.



My father's anvil gouging them consumes their attention, they don´t notice the saber approaching from behind, ready to cut their hearts.



As I breath out, I plunge my ruined saber, with weaved shadow as it´s cloak, deep into my enemy's chest, piercing her chest and finding purchase not only in her.



In the same breath Frog Gulper uses the hole his chest wound gave him to narrowly avoid a pierced heart by my father's sabre giving my sabre enough of a gap to exchange qi blows with fathers sabre and blow a path wide open.



My enemy's qi cycle spent and the bee lady immobilized by the shadows slow bleeding venom we jump.

I can´t help but grin at coming this far with this stupid plan of mine, uncaring of the shadows pulling us into plains of dream unknown. `Task failed successfully`



The next moment I find myself in a land full of rolling hills bathed in twilight. As I descend, I can´t help but spot other figures bathed in flame qi descending on these lush and beautiful hills, which seemingly know no horizon. Such a beautiful peaceful landscape could never remain so for long in the third sea, where thousands die for the face of "heaven-defying" cultivators.



Since my descend is out of my power to influence I can truly marvel at these sights, before combat no doubt resumes on the ground. To the west I spot lush hills with yellow gerberas blooming everywhere where someone might suspect them to bloom and a few where they shouldn´t. If I wasn´t convinced this place to be a dream of something, then the yellow gerbera blooming on an upwards flowing river of dark liquid definitely made that obvious. The sight giving my mind's eye the impression of entire Fleets of boats floating of the ground is certainly something I would think impossible. Everyone knows the sea routes are hard to bargain for on the third turtle sea and there is no way entire fleets could swim any river upwards. What these fleets and the river have to do with good memories of dead people is something I have to consider later. The sheer weirdness of my surroundings demands my minds attention right now, with it´s riot of colours bathed in twilight.



While there is a simple wall of fog to my south and north, I can spot the beginnings of a field of flowers, that resemble suns in miniature striving towards the twilight in the far-off distance. Only through my enhanced eyesight of the ninth heavenstage can I spot the small pink earthworms writhing under the shade of these flowers, which are currently eating the rotten remains of another flower near them. Before long the largest of these worms promptly gains the size of a small hut, shedding blood and strange viscera ex nihilo. These larger worms seems to resemble more of the sandworms I am familiar with. Scaly, with humongous teeth and able to swallow at least two men whole if they aren´t trying hard enough to eat. And like most of these assholes, he feels us, as his prey, from many li away and visibly buries his way towards his newly chosen hunting grounds. Just great, no longer will we have to contend with Cannibals too powerful for us, but also some kind of freshly molted darkness-dream-bloodworm, ugh. This is going to get ugly.



Sadly, I can´t sightsee these entire dream planes at my leisure, since we are nearing our descend and the enemies were far too powerful to be killed by my attack. My gamble has already brought us far away from home, but even forbidden techniques of my caliber rarely allow someone to kill across many small and one great realm. The enemies are most likely alive then. What a shame.



With my descend on the softest of grass I have ever felt, I quickly catch up with father and his retinue. Their bodies, previously rent asunder on the manor floor, slowly knit together with shadowy wisps flying of their bodies. They may be mere Shadows of their former selves, but loyal legionnaires all the same. Closer inspection allows me to see the blood of our enemies' sizzle of our weapons as they seemingly restore to peak battle condition before our very eyes. I wish we had the time to observe the qi fluctuations being woven here, but survival takes precedence after all.



"By the Imperator, what a terrible fate." The displeasure of Xylophos is gainsaid by none.



Any more exclamations of surprise vanish in our throats as heavenly lightning descends on the hill from the foggy sky. The wall of light and the hill separating our groups disappear and out of the same hill frogs in uncountable numbers appear, quickly seeking their master. As the lightning clear we can finally see our enemies again. Frog Gulpers wounds appear cauterized, but not healed. Thank the imperator…err…Heavens Shadow for small mercies, I suppose.



"This is so confusing, the heavens wants us dead normally."



"Heh, true son, but look up ahead. Our enemies are already forming up. We shouldn´t disappoint them and do the same. We want to kill them with our best effort for their arrogance after all!" After a hug and a quick reassuring pat on my shoulder I am assigned to the flanking cavalry, since my technique should provide us with the maneuverability to outflank the enemy.



While I head for my position with my platoon on the left flank, I can catch a few more glimpses of the enemy's situation. Frog Gulpers flesh looks more sagged than before, but that matters little as an army of demon Frogs assemble behind them. What his lack of Sunlight makes him lose in quality of power, he more than makes up with the sheer number of servants the heavens have bestowed unto him.



Meanwhile the Bee lady known as Expert Pristine Puncture smirks, riding her newly risen see-trough bee through the air to her erstwhile comrade with seemingly unhindered confidence in spite of her battered looking chest. Both of them are wounded then, but still our superiors in single combat. Do we even have the num-?



Before I can even finish the thought the echoes of our ancestor spirits forged through battle are once more on the march and within the same breath our previous small platoons of 12 each double to 24 for each commander on our side. Their ranks are as varied and storied as our stories would suggest they are. They form beside and behind us, ready to pierce, poison, and in few cases even burn our enemies.



In that instant I simply know that yes, the shadows of Heaven approve of our challenge to our fate and gave us the instruments of war to bring peace of mind through violence on this internal-heavenly dispute. Was the faded glory of the legionnaires of the past better prepared to survive open combat tribulations than the Blood Paths glory of the current times? Both sides got an army of roughly equal power -our Clan specialty making parity between two forces a hard to achieve process- and two commanders on each side to defeat, huh. Father and I on one side and the Frog with his Bee on the other. Maybe this might just work. Maybe we can all find a way home alive after all.



Breath in…this isn´t going to be easy, but so worth it once we crush these barbarians for intruding on our hearth.



The few ballistae's we got -with few bolts, sadly- form up on a hill to our left, while the few Cataphracts and I ready ourselves on the left flank, facing away from the flower field. Father quickly rallies the heavy infantry for a wall of hoplites, spreading a slightly staggered wall along the dunes to enclose and hammer our enemies to dust. The few archers we have stand with their sturdy war bows right beside the staggered second line in the middle of the formation. If we are lucky, we can crush the bulk of the enemies beneath the cataphracts as the Infantry keeps them busy and ranged legionnaires torment our enemies from afar.



I never thought I would see such a sight in my lifetime. This seems like one of these battles right out of a storybook. We even have capital "E" Evil Guys to kill with their mindless minions. This all seems to blur the lines of reality, but what can we do other than act in this dream?



Meanwhile the Cannibals form up as a ball on their side, making sure to assemble before the hill with the largest slope in the vicinity and a wall of thick fog behind the hill after them. The large worm from the flower fields messily gulping down some minions while Frog Gulper talks animatedly at it, both not killing each other. Great, an alliance of opportunity seems to have formed on the spot. Just what we needed. The one day I want them to be ultra-competitive selfish assholes and they deny me the pleasure of seeing them rip themselves apart, ugh. What terrible luck. Must have spent all of it on even surviving our travel here and come to think of it, was the air always this full of qi? Where is our curse?

"What? Did I just hear the heavens rumbling out loud?" Before my eyes a legionnaire steps out of formation and stares right at me with eyes full of worry.



"No, we haven´t heard anything and our enemies are not known for this trickery, Captain. The heavens don´t care to speak to us devils, Captain! Might this lowly legionnaire suggest a short breather to settle these nerves, Captain?" With a quickly snapped salute the lone echo of a Golden Devil long gone stands before me, awaiting orders.



He´s right, in a way. Even though this is dream realm, this is most likely just my nerves talking. The heavens interact even with their favored only rarely and us devils are ignored when possible under their arcane rules after all. Only Mount Tai may even know of the true rules under which the heavens are ruled and I am very far from comprehending them.

Ignoring that voice and the suspicious rumbling. I-I don´t have time for that. My focus is needed on the battle ahead. We need the high ground and father's army is already advancing to make sure they can´t get up there to fortify.



"Legionnaire! Back into formation and I don´t want any more of that or you will scrub the latrines until even the Shadow of Heaven can´t support your impudence anymore!" That seems to have raised their spirit at least. Good. Can´t charge anywhere without good morale. After all, even Blood Cannibals fear happy enemies and we are very happy while cleaning up the scum of the turtle. With only a qi pulse through our connection we begin our trot towards their right flank, the shadows of the Kataphractoi formation waiting to be released.



Now is not the moment. Frog Gulper and fathers' forces are just exchanging pointers in their first round. No spear thrust or Ghoul is truly committing. The bees, likewise, are merely using the first moments of battle to exhaust our ballistaes bolts, no doubt changing to flying lance-byes after both parties exhausted a bulk of qi. Normally that would be the correct tactic for the bloodhorde, but we won´t give them the time to regain qi through eating our forces mid-battle.



I can´t help, but marvel at the ballistae's while we trot towards alongside a hill, just out of sight of the horde and the rumbling of the heavens to hide our sound. Whoever trained this ballistae crew so long ago is to be commended. I may only be able to sense their battle through the qi they emit, but they manage to make any bee foolish enough trying to descend for melee get a painful reminder why they were allowed to take part in open field combat. Only a few moments in battle and one bee already got a clipped wing, while the sneaky worm got a slowly dissolving bolt stuck in one of it´s rings.



That success doesn´t last long, however. Once the worm is finally close enough to wreck the first ballistae then even the bees descend. As good as these troops are with ballistae's and no doubt as legionnaires. Their demise is a quick one, even though they are behind their promptly thrown up hoplite formation. While all this is happening, I am quickly reminded through our connection how much everyone wants to avenge the fallen comrades, while we are just now coming up the hill with our slow trot. For everybody that falls, the heavens seem to reach a new peak in their never-ending rumbling in the background.



Finally, we can see the bloodbath in all its gory glory. Ghouls are hacked into pieces before our eyes and archer arrows pierce flanking minions first through their legs and then their body. The ballistae meanwhile blow up their whole formation into a cloud of, no doubt, poisonous fire. I mean, the cloud is purple, what else could it be? Normal fire probably wouldn´t make Expert Puncture P…whatever and the worm make such loud screeching noises while they scramble out of the cloud. At least the bee swarm seems to have been smoked out of existence, good. We can deal with a lone burned bee in the air just fine.



The true struggle, though. That is happening right in the middle of the valley. Father's platoon is spearing the ghouls by the dozens and the blood on their spear shafts is glittering in the glow of twilight around us. Fathers work with his sabre is, as always, astonishing. He´s even pushing the bloodhorde and Frog Gulper back li by li with every swing in between the hoplite formation. I wish I knew how to do that. Frog Gulper is no slouch either. As his namesake suggests, he eats on of his frogs to regain energy and quickly regenerate wounds so he can make space for his minions to exploit. Without the discipline of the Optimatoi, I am sure any lesser opponents' formation would have been long since ground to dust. Even with that, everyone is focused on the main body of their forces fighting and bodies of both parties are quickly piling up, as they fighting continues towards the fog bank behind the bloodhorde.



All the while the heavens are rumbling at our slaughter in these unknown fields. Now is the time!



"Charge!" is all that needs to be conveyed through the formation link.



The rumbling continues overhead and becomes distant to our senses as we descend upon the right flank of the unsuspecting enemy horde. As we grind the enemy ghouls to dust beneath our formation, a legionnaire to my left keeps me updated on the countercharging bee lady, who seems to have noticed us. Ignoring all common sense of battlefield tactics, she simply picks up a ghoul left behind the first push and eats them. She doesn´t even bother to help the worm, which is getting pierced by so many arrows and spears. It´s attacks shifting the ground our forces fight on with every swing of its tail end.



Only after her quick meal does the bee lady fly towards us, while we are decimating their main force. She even makes it a point to fly directly in front of our formation, while hurling insults about my parentage and the occasional qi lance my way. If only I could bother to remember how I pissed her off. Oh, right. I did just make sure she can´t have her shitty chains, ever. Yeah, that might be it and I am happy, because this weird-as-all-hell situation at least has a silver lining beyond mothers' survival!



Thankfully, the Bee lady is able to read the mood of the room for once and descends straight at us. A direct contest of might we can certainly provide and the Kataphractoi formation, just behind the enemy lines, quickly changes to a stout hoplite formation. The few archers not pelting the worm, make sure no ghoul gets to our backs in the meantime.



Before our clash can happen, we hear a deep, desperate gurgling sound from the back of the fight and shortly afterwards the entire hill we are fighting on is lifted abruptly upwards.



'What is happening? Shit! I need to link up with the others or we´ll scatter and we´re dead then!'



Thankfully, I am not the only one with that particular train of thought and the legionnaires near me, already bunched up due to the fighting, link up their arms and quickly thrust the spears of the troops in the corner of their formations into the ground for grip on the new mountain-that-is-a-missile. Some can´t react in time and fly off with many ghouls into the unknown and a frightening scream on their lips. All quickly swallowed up by the ever-thickening black fog.



"My condolences, dear siblings in arms."



"What?" I can´t hear my neighbor over the howling wind and simply gesture him to be silent, so he can save his breath for the inevitable landing of this miserable ride.



That damn fog keeps me from seeing anything, but the legionnaires directly on my sides. Even then, it´s difficult to discern features with my cultivated body. I shudder at the thought of one of our mortals being forced to survive in this damned fog. They probably would have drowned by the sheer humidity inside the black fog. What a horrible way to go, drowning on land in between the turtle worlds. Only these thoughts and the knowledge of my comrade's existence are there to keep us company. The black fog thickens, the feeling of being lonely in a crowd blankets us all and the heavens rumble merrily onwards towards new peaks in their never-ending song.



Someone clearly wants us gone, even if I doubt the impression of the heavens anger, I get is the true heavens acting against us. It doesn´t matter either way. I won´t give in to whomever wants to break me! Hopefully, my pulsing of the hoplite formation has the intended effect and assures my comrades in these dire times.



The occasional dull thump sound in the distance, I think; gives me hope that the bee lady simply got her bee pinned to the mountain by flying debris at some point. That would do her overinflated ego some good at least.



Frog Gulper, the other commander, seems to have impaled himself in fathers sabre, judging by the shouts of horror I can clearly hear as if they were right next to me. Their fight has now descended into a slugfest one might see in a tavern and Frog Gulper isn´t throwing drunk haymakers. He is simply hammering at every weakness being exposed. It galls to admit, but I am too far to help. Not that I could move the way we are sailing in the fog. At least the ghouls are either thrown off the mountain-that-is-a-missile or huddling as a pile on lose rocks they can grab. At least this sparked their meagre survival instinct and made them stop harassing us for now. The heavens throwing lightning around us into the ground in excitement, seemingly happy at our coming demise, just makes this situation even weirder. Why the fuck is tribulation lighting just spawning randomly on every other patch of dirt on this specific mountain and why the fuck are we still hurtling around the air, when this massive hill should have landed ages ago!



Suddenly our movement is completely arrested midair, the rumbling stops without echoing sound to be heard and we can behold the glorious Mountain that is known by us lowly mortals as Mount Tai. Any thoughts of my mind experiencing a breakdown over our ridiculous situation is quickly forgotten, as we are finally nearing the abode of the one person all cultivators respect as their elder and lord.



"Worry not travelers, for I declare peace be upon you all." Upon this supreme declaration, all fighting spirit vanishes within the nonexistent breeze.



We bow as one towards the lord and the bloodhorde, after a quick reminder by our glorious lord, does the same.



With our duty for the moment done, we are allowed some time to view the lord's bounty in all its splendor. It´s peaks are truly understated by the word epic. For the word epic, in the sense of proportions, were crafted by ancestors unknown to grasp even a fraction of the proportions our lord possesses in this realm near the dream. It´s height seeks new heavens forevermore and it´s foundation is the foundation of every Dao that has ever been and always will be. Comparing Mount Tai to anything I have seen in my life, would never come close to define Mount Tai in any meaningful way. All I know is, that mountains were crafted after Mount Tai came into existence and every single one of them is lacking in comparison.



Seemingly, to impress upon me my new insight into mountains, the black fog that traumatized us all parts like a gust of wind before its glory; clearly delineating where the lord allows it´s presence and where the black fog floats with its lesser kin.



Sadly, that moment of awe can´t last, and the ringing of chimes alerts us of the lords call of order.



A voice, like an unstoppable avalanche assaults our senses, burying the knowledge deep in our souls with the subtlety of a thrown rock. "Know now that you are no longer travelers, sent by the heavenly shadows towards our greatness in the dream, but prospective servants for our temples and shrines; toiling to receive our glory forevermore."



Now even Frog Gulper and the Bee realize they are beyond the heavens favor and scrape on the slopes in desperate hopes for forgiveness. They plead and wail loudly: "Oh great and merciful mountain please forgive our transgressions upon your domain. We were led astray by these devious bronze devils! We only sought to bask in the heavens glory!"



Once more a voice rumbles from the slopes like an avalanche ripping the heavens apart in its path, uncaring of opinions held by lesser beings. "All of your pleas, servants, shall be sorted fairly upon my altar. Know that the heavens wrath shall not strike you without my favor again. All of you are upon my mountain and I am your master now!"



Seeing these scum kowtow for once, instead of ripping part everyone I care about is almost cathartic. Sadly, I can´t indulge in that catharsis, because the mountains presence demands entrance into my mind. I would rather not, but what can I do against Mount Tai? I am not strong enough to do anything meaningful against the attempt inside my mind in its presence. Before I lose control over my body, the mountain allows me to report to my father, as my filial duty towards the patriarch of the family demands. My consciousness is shoved roughly under a big Mountain that´s covering the heavens and thereafter I control nothing in this world for the first time in my life.

____________



"Worry not Mortal, your son shall serve us as a voice for you all to better understand our instructions better in this glorious dream of ours."



"This lowly mortal thanks his grace for his benevolence." is all I can speak, while I bow low before his grace, Mount Tai. I can´t afford to offend his grace now. My wounds won´t allow me to contest the two Blood Paths for long, if the fight continues now. Zenos gamble may have made sure that my dear wife and her unborn son can live, but these two are my superiors in combat.



Fuck, my shitty performance! The ground gains a few cracks, while we head into marching formation to start our ascend towards the top of Mount Tai, in the dream. I know I should be astonished at getting the chance to see the glorious Mountain Tai in person, or as close as one can in the dream, but my awe at seeing this sliver of great power is wholly subsumed by my anger of my shitty performance in battle. My needed to endanger his own live to defend our home at, what was supposed to be, a joyous occasion for everyone!



I can´t even defend my home the one time I need to! My arms and torso are ruined with acid and poison and I couldn´t even kill one of these fuckers with help, which also died! At least dear Zeno is still alive through all this shit, even if Mount Tai is currently using his body as a puppet. I can see still sense my son's qi running through his body, even through the mountains mantle. Should he survive, his foundation will surely be firm like no other.



Come to think of it, this battle has been a shitshow from start to finish. First, I had to defend the village and lose so many friends to the small army of blood paths descending down upon us. Lie Yu my good drinking buddy and Xia Ren, both intended to be godparents to our unborn child, breathed their last today in the tide. Normally these bandits only have one in the Foundation Establishment Realm so far from distant population centers, but we just had to have the rotten luck of attracting splinters from the Battle Blood Cannibal and the Abyssal Bee sect at the same time. The ones seeking this shitty chain was even unnecessary, if they weren´t so pathetic at their job. Iulia sold the chains publicly to a wandering cultivator of the righteous powers' decades ago. We even bothered to make special documents for both parties to sign for this transfer. Our transfer even has it´s own, publicly available, file in the record of the gemstone sects archive for the Imperators sake. The latter splinter force was no doubt driven from their mountains by their civil war and working off of old information without verifying them as usual. If only their martial might was as pathetic as their information network, ugh.



Even if we get back home in a timely manner now, we probably won´t be able to trace how the fuck roughly 100 powerful qi stage Blood paths and two in Foundation Establishment managed to infiltrate so deep into our clan territory and nearly snatch my child for some ritual of empowerment. I know that children of strong cultivators like Iulia and I are rare, but there are other children of similar parents running around performing tasks for the Legion already. Why did it have to be my unborn child and my wife in labor who are the targets of this? Why? I-I can only imagine what horrors would have happened if we had failed to hold them off. Fuck, we nearly did! Thankfully Zenos gamble managed to foil their plans at least, but we can only hope that at least one of us makes it out of here alive. The heavens are fair, but never kind, after all. His grace, Mount Tai, looks to be no different in that regard.



Either way, their timing was weirdly good and their powers even stranger. Frog Gulper for one was distracted on our battle outside of the village once I mentioned the rudeness of him attacking my home on a Wednesday, since we would have more times for his games on weekends. It was typical battle banter to abuse the bloodpaths infamous atrocious emotional instability and it backfired horribly. How could I have known that mentioning Wednesday would allow my enemy to gain a small realm advantage all of a sudden? That was just ridiculous! And that´s not even mentioning the camelshit the Bee Lady, or Expert Pristine Puncture, as she called herself, shoveled on to my table of problems. She not only defiled the corpses of my friends, but also shot their bone splinters at us, with bronze blood still hanging on the splinter for all to see! It´s as if she was made to mock our dead!



At least they all shut up and kowtow in fear now. Judging by their dead eyes and subservient postures, they can´t even think about much else at the moment. Ha, shitty bloodpaths can´t withstand a true tribulation of the heart without heavens blanket of favor to soften the blow, as expected of this scum.



The voice of his grace out of my beloved sons mouth finally tears me out of my own thoughts. "Should you mortal not care for your own injuries while we travel? Your battle gave yourself many grievous injuries."



"I can´t, most esteemed elder, for I know my son isn´t safe, t-that is to say not at home, where our hearth lies. Tending to my wounds now would allow a potential ambush to harm my family." The Mountains vessel continues to stare for a few moments more on the trail ahead gliding on the ground parting before it´s Master. Even the grass and tiniest of bugs know to make way for his grace. Seeing a worn dirt path turn to finest jade in front of my sons hovering feet is as wondrous as it´s terrifying to behold. Roots of ancient trees seeking heavens glory in this dream, which would normally bar our path, simply submit to the will of his grace. It´s willing them to change and they do so with not even an ounce of protest. I have never seen so many different bugs and different genera of trees in my life. The terrifying part, that I only notice with focus, is their power. I am pretty sure every single one of them could kill us with only a glance and his grace rules over all.



"Your filial piety does you credit, child. Don´t worry about him and clear your wounds. As our mantle we would brook no damage on him, not even from the heavens striking on the disfavored." So the mountain values virtuous actions as much as the rest of heaven then, good to know. I may not like the answers I get from, but the way his grace demands attention in every aspect, helps me focus on something else than the past.



With this new knowledge in hard I quickly make haste to fall back and get a medics attention for my wounds, while we travel the slopes and winding paths upwards. The heavens having resumed their grumbling in the distance make for ominous background music to serene vistas I could only imagine happen before today. That doesn´t worry me as much as my son, since the mantle is obviously not easy to carry. It´s rock covered roots over his shoulders visibly strain his glowing meridians and presence of his race inside of him can´t be good for his mental health. Please remain steadfast son, not even the heavens attention on you can last forever. Having to settle for being a voice of comrades while my son suffers the attention of the Mountains attention just shows me where my place in this world truly lies, where no father wants to be.



For every new place of worship, we visit in our path, our surroundings actively change to welcome his grace. A shrine to a goddess called Bixia, for one, shines with joy and emanations of blue light while kissing my son as only a lover could. The lines of stress, the grey mantle demands as payment for the prestige of serving his grace, accumulated through this terrible ordeal on my sons' body, wash away in only a breath. It has been a long time, since I have seen Zeno be at peace with the world. That impression doesn´t last, as his grace reasserts his mantle shortly afterwards and orders a feast to honor his guard for the last part of the triumph. An older servant later on informs me, while we feast in the finely decorated courtyard of the shrine, that this feast tradition since ancient times and only his grace, Mount Tai, could possibly know of the origins.



The top, we finally see after another unknown amount of time traveled, which I mostly used to stew in my worries about our future, is something else to behold.



It´s a plateau of epic proportions, like everything concerning Mount Tai. It knows no half measures. From the start it´s obvious when we arrive on our destination, because the shield atop the decorative rope, hung between the ornamented posts, displays the characters of Mount Tais formal name in pure jade. To our sides is the place for us to lie down our gifts for his grace among the small mountains of accumulated trinkets. In our case, we lie down our weapons and armor, as signs of subservience. Better decorations for the body will surely be given to us after we have taken our vows. We won´t need armor where we are going; no one would be dumb enough to challenge his grace after all. I place my personal belongings right next to the poems of some rich king, and an allegedly famous uniter of an empire called Qin. This empire must have possessed some renown then, if his grace placed this finely crafted tablet with gold-filled incisions in such a public spot.



After we have placed everything down, we move straight to the courtyard, where his grace holds court in an open room with no roof. We move in a straight line, along the jade carpet, with golden stitches on the sides, towards the throne of his grace. The throne is simple, but fitting. The throne is a thing made out of the mountain and carved out of with lines that seem to move, when I can catch a glimpse of it. In the back of the court, I can make out the qi signatures of uncountably powerful spirits of nature. From a spirit of fire to a spirit of commerce, they all come to his grace for an audience. All assembled are here to give thanks to his grace under the open skies on this beautiful day. The worries of Heaven rumble in the distance, useless before the might of the mountain that challenges.



As everyone of import is seated, and we all stand in attendance, his grace sits down atop the mountain carved throne in a regal manner, befitting the station. Before long, the clerks have made note of who appeared and who did not. That´s no matter I concern myself with. A clerk in Bixias temple gave us an itinerary of the court proceedings for our case and I thought long about the way I want to voice my proposal.



"All of you who stand before our glory to give thanks for our work, is there something our direct presence cannot give? Tell us, so we may gift you what our glory cannot provide!"



With that statement all was silent for the moment, to give the world a chance to behold the greatness of his grace.



"I-I have a matter for your perusal, your grace." With my bow deepening, I can only his grace shows kindness for my plight.



After the last syllable leaves my dream filled lungs the gaze of his grace hovers over to me. Zenos eyes shine like a placid lake on a mountaintop in a midsummer night, truly beautiful.



"Very well, speak so we may give this unknown glory to you."



"I am the father of two sons, one your vessel and other back home in the territories of the Golden Devil Clan, your grace. This humble servant that our unborn son won´t be brought up to honor the virtues, since the patriarch of the house is missing."



Before the Mountain can voice his displeasure, my matter has clearly brought him, the clear sky parts to allow a -goddess Bixia- to arrive and intercede on our behalf. I shouldn´t know… I-I should focus. Worrying about mental pollution now won´t bring me anything but stolen attention I need right this moment. Whatever may come now, it´s beyond our ability to influence.



Quickly gathering himself, his grace returns to the regality of a monarch and allows goddess Bixia to descend unto his court.



"What brings you to my domain, favored daughter of heaven?"



"Matters of domain are the reason of my quick arrival your grace." The quick bow she gives to his grace the epitome of etiquette. The murmuring of the court stopping with her statement.



"Your grace, these are mere descendants, children of long-gone enemies. They have wrought countless treasures to cherish the heavens, while the heavens only give them what the most ancient pf pacts demand. They, day by day for the past 100 generations upheld the virtues of heaven and wrought their own luck in spite of their position of heavenly disfavor. Their steadfastness to the virtues surpassing cycles and their meager resources. They hold land in the poorest region of the poorest world and still hold fast on to their family, while the heavens pelt them with a trial to match every century. I plead with your grace, that you give the devils a new chance. Their imitation of your glory is the sincerest form of glory they could possibly give, is it not?"



With this passionate speech done, the monarch rebukes after a moment of contemplation of this heavy matter.



"You would give barbarians, who spat upon our domain so many cycles ago, a boon?!" my sons bones audibly creak and contort under the projected, for lack of a better word, power in these words.



Her own answer follows swiftly, with every syllable of every word enunciated with great care. "No, your grace. I would give the scorned descendants their long denied due! Look at these children. They are many wonderful things, but the scum of that cycle they are not." With every word said she rises more from her own bow and presents her own splendor for all to stand witness.



"Your grace, please show mercy for this group of wanderers, adrift in the dead sea not of their making." With every word spoken my sight brightens as blue dawn envelops us all. The Mountain, of course, seems unfazed by it all. I can´t fathom why we have attracted this lady's good graces, but I sure won´t complain about it! What a sight for sore eyes.



"What great boon have these wanderers given you to speak so well of them, Bixia Yuanjun?" Is that fondness or sadness the Mountain feels? I can´t tell.



"The steady joy of childbirth and their rich destinies in numbers I enjoy to see nowhere else in the same place!" With that said, the visible origin point of dawn qi changes from herself to the heavens. Now, everyone can marvel at her splendor and all she stands for in every spot in this world. The world pauses in awe.



"Very well, we will allow this glorious vessel to return to his miserable sea under one condition!



"We listen to your glorious wisdom, wise one."



"Know child of bronze, only by you reaching for the True Dao Pillars and gaining heavens luck would you give evidence to the claim of stability over your reign. Attain it or know these next of kin will forevermore serve our dreaming self!" I can only nod at my Master command and bow in subservience; listening to true wisdom given for such a lowly price.



After the bow, the Platoon exchanges a quick glance with their commander, who only nods in return. Even Frog Gulper and that bee lady (What was her name again?) can only find the energy for resignation to their fates. Filial Piety making an obvious difference today and their lack of it among their possessions obvious to all.



"Let us acknowledges that all matters of glory have been taken care of. Mortals, rise to my side and know your place among my ranks!"



The Golden Devils Platoon steps up in the same breath, with the visibly healing subcommander Xylophos at the front beside Commander Georgy Angelus. Looking newly forged, with shadow and blood no longer staining their forms, they vow as one to serve after death as servants of the mountains temples as eternal servants under the authority of the esteemed Monarch Mount Tai.



The Vessels eyes glare for but a moment as a challenge for anyone who dares to contend his claim. With a flick of the Vessels wrists the air of suppression clears. Their vows have been accepted for all to see and know.

___________

My world is pain.


Every thread of my being is filled with the Mountain-that-challenges and I need to marshal every scrap of will just to stay as one spirit. I would weep, if the mountain did not forbid it. I would buckle and piss if the mountains mere attention did not crush that daydream in the same breath it formed. I would think of other beings, if the Mountain did not demand the Vessel know of the world as the Mountain does. I am so small compared to that Mountain called Tai. Tai has become my world. I am a bronzen puppet, held aloft by the Mountains will and merely keeping my sense of self through the love of family I receive. Should love have qi in the dream? I don´t know. Their unspoken support buoys my sense of self all the same. Their love burns deep shadows in my soul to slowly reinforce my inner walls gathering cracks through the attention of the Mountains passing will.


Has it been years or mere moments? I can´t tell. It doesn´t matter. The world shall not find me wanting! Through the love given I shall prevail no matter the challenge! It´s an easy and comforting thought, compared to the challenge of merely acting in my own bronze. It´s a thought I could not hold before and bares to me the truth how nurtured love may not beat the heavens alone, but can help to endure heavenly attention.



Oh, is that dawn qi I feel along with dream qi? Dream and shadow qi in my meridians feel like a warm blanket mother used to cover me with, when I was a child. Is this the qi version of a blanket? The Mountain, lord of my senses, leaves my question unanswered.



With a heavy bell tolling in the distance, an opulent barge, swimming down a river of dreaming shadows arrives at the altar of Mount Tai with only the sound of swaying cloth to make its arrival known.



The newly vowed Platoon of the Mountain forms a triumph for their former Commander, where his barge awaits. The Blood paths stumbling into formation behind them.



The Mountain-that-challenges places my weak body upon the barge, before leaving my sore body. Qi and new resolve alike fill my dantian with warmth I never knew before, as I set sail homewards bound on this barge of triumph.

Mount Tai will not find me wanting!

________________________


Idea: Needed something mad enough no clan member would believe it at first. Divinators see some terrible stuff and Zeno is no different, only the intensity he experiences is just a bit different. Also, If there´s a grain of truth among these stories woven from the dream planes the Angelus family ain´t telling. Convincing people of your divinated truth isn´t worth it most of the time.

Sidenote: It took me the better part of three weeks to write this one Omake. Getting the battle part just how I wanted it to was the difficult part. The one before I wrote this afternoon. Writers block is one huge mental hurdle. Thanks to @BadAtScreenNames for looking over my idea. It looks far better with some more time dedicated to it.

@TehChron , @Mochinator Please add this to the Threadmarks

Theoron Strophios: Goals

A combination of bright sunlight and the wagon hitting a rough patch of road finally brought Theoron out of the half slumber he had sunk into. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he shifted his posture, working his sheath into a more comfortable position. Getting to Song would require haste, but this was wrong. Haste makes waste after all, and wasting precious array materials would be a disaster. So Theoron rode with other cultivators of the Qi Condensation realm, along a safe, slow, and boring route. It had only been less than a day, but Theoron could already feel his hands wanting to vibrate with energy, with the urge to act.

Waking up had the effect of interrupting the low susurrus of the wagon. One of the others turned towards him, short brown hair cut short with piercing green eyes, smiled and shuffled over.

"Finally awake I see." He said. "Name's Vlassis. Didn't get a chance for a greeting before you fell asleep."

"Nice to meet you. Name's Theoron."

Vlassis grinned, full of joy. "Glad to get your name. Now we've been talking," he gestured towards the rest of the cultivators in the wagon, who nodded in turn, "about why we are all going to the Great Battlefield. Mine's that I am hoping to see Rina Callista, or any of Indomitable really. So how about you?"

Nodding, like it was perfectly normal to head to one of the most dangerous places in the region in the hope of seeing someone, Theoron answered.

"I want a fight."

Vlassis frowned, but Theoron continued.

"I've fought Blood Path bandits all my years as a cultivator. Hunting them down in endless dunes, rocky canyons, near the great trade lanes, in nameless wastes. Now though, I need stronger enemies if I want to hone my blade. Cowardly dogs can only sharpen my blade so much, so I march to the Great Battlefield."

"I see, I see. Well, I am sure that you will get your fill of combat in the Great Battlefield, it never ends after all!" Vlassis chuckled at his own attempt of humor, but his frown only lessened, it didn't disappear, as if traveling to the greatest battlefield in the region looking to fight was unnerving somehow.

Theoron didn't mind. Instead he turned his head and studied the horizon, and Vlassis shuffled back to resume his previous conversations. Theoron had answered the question, if perhaps not in the fullness of truth. Battle was the surest way to get stronger, the Song of Steel made sure of that, and now that he had a goal to strive for he would need all the strength he could get.

For nearly a hundred year Theoron had challenged blood path bandits. Camp after camp after camp had broken before his blade. Still every time he rested more would sprout into existence. More farms were burnt, more sisters were stolen into the night, more families were broken.

It was after two years, rushing from mission to mission, subsisting only the qi his blade could gather from his battles and finally collapsing that his elders finally stepped in. Barred from missions and ordered to rest in the city Theoron had slunk deep into the bowels of libraries, seeking solace in the myths and legends of great heroes. There, by flickering candle light, he found purpose.

Emerging a year later with the seed of an idea burned into his bones, Theoron gathered strength, finally reaching the 10th heavenstage. Now he walked into the Great Battlefield, sword held steady. Ready to refine his blade and cut.

After all, if a single man could force the world to accept a Path with his Dao, then a single man could cut free a Path from the world.

A.N.
Shorter than my normal count, but now that I have a clear goal in mind for Theoron I hope I will be able to write more about him. The idea for cutting free a Path from the world came to me after reading about the history of the third sea and why it's the weakest. Pretty crazy idea, but hey this is Xianxia after all.

+1 impact for the omake bonus please. Also please mark Theoron Strophios as heading off on the Song Empire mission.

Pinging @Alectai

Side-Omake: no.'s Top Ten Good Seeds

I was originally going to make this a tier list, but while I tried my best to emphasize positivity, it still felt too mean-spirited no matter what I did. So instead, I'm going to rank what I feel are the top ten best good seeds in the whole quest. If someone wants to start the thread and get involved without reading everything anyone ever posted, I will instruct them to read the story posts as well as these ten stories. These are the cream of the crop, the characters whose writing I feel deepens the setting, sucks in the reader and expands the world more than any others.

Just as I did in the now-aborted tier list, I did not even consider my own good seed in terms of rankings. Gaius is a character who I've poured a lot of emotional weight into, so I wouldn't be able to judge him objectively.

Finally, after much painful deliberation, I have decided to only include one character per author on this list, because it wouldn't be fair to split the spotlight unevenly, so as an honorable mention:

#X. Aliki Floros:

@Alectai 's second character, he continues to impress with his worldbuilding chops with Aliki, fleshing out little corners of the setting that you might never have even thought about had he not brought them up. Aliki is a much newer character than Rina, and thus not as well-established, but her origins alone are fascinating and mysterious.

That's probably how I'd describe Aliki in general: the appeal is learning more about what her whole deal is. There's a degree of subtle horror to it as well; you're never quite sure if she won't at any moment snap and bite your head off. This makes her great to keep up with, because you have to learn more.

----

And so, with all of the guidelines set, let's start off the list. Remember, I consider every one of these good seeds' stories something fantastic and worth following closely. The precise placement comes down mostly to my personal taste.

#10. Aristoteles 'Aris' Kalokagathos:

Topping off the list is @Siual 's decidedly Hellenic take on the arrogant Young Master, Aris. As far as Golden Devil officers go, Aris is not particularly unusual. In fact, he's downright stereotypical, but that's kind of the point. Aris is a fairly standard character because his purpose is to act as a viewpoint for the real star of his omakes: the warfare.

You can tell at a glance that Siual adores military fiction, and that oozes from every pore of his writing. He captures the Devils' unusual mix of east and west, as well as their mix of regimented battle and bombastic magical powers, blending it all into jaw-dropping action scenes. He pulls you into the grime and the gore and the noise with bone-rattling intensity, bringing the warfare which defines the Clan's existence into a stark and personal up-close view. It's a real shame he's not getting omake anymore; I would have loved to see Siual's take on some more recent battles.

#9. Xiao Yi/Jin Muyi:

This guy. This absolute madlad. The character of Xiao Yi, later Jin Muyi after a certain incident, is one of the ones which in no uncertain terms defines the very identity of 'Hmm Good Seed'(We probably need to come up with a shorthand title). A character who's been here from the very beginning, Muyi is an old veteran in every sense of the word, and @Mochinator absolutely wins the 'most improved' award of the whole thread. That's not to say his earlier stuff is bad, so much as his later work is genuinely some of the most fantastic and impactful material on the site.

Part of Muyi's appeal as a character is that he's Just Some Guy. He doesn't come from a prestigious background, is not a heaven-defying genius and has no incredible latent gifts. By the standards of the Clan he was an ordinary soldier who, through hard work, diligence, personal virtue and sheer determination, siezed greatness. Thus, when you read Muyi's stories, you're following the saga which has sort of a blue collar feel to it. Muyi is all of us, and that's a powerful thing, because it means we can all be Muyi.

#8. Maria:

Many seeds, often the more ambitious ones, are very protagonist-y, whilst others are written more like you might see from a secondary character. @BadAtScreenNames ' Maria is very much the former, and is an interesting reflection on how traumatic experiences can shape who you are as a person.

Many characters in fantasy action adventure stories will have backstories involving some kind of horrific event or period, which motivates them to seek revenge in some fashion. The interesting thing about Maria is how she chooses to seek revenge on not any particular person but evil itself. It's a deeply compelling case study in how, rather than seek to metaphorically escape from their own trauma, some people cloak themselves in it, make weapons of it, because they no longer feel complete without their own pain.

However, as compelling as this all is, I can't put her any higher because she's only been here for two turns, so there's a lot more to be explored with her. Still, she's absolutely one to watch out for.

#7. Xiuying Ten Jiang:

As much as I love @shibosho 's good seed, I can't justifiably rank her any higher than this, for just one reason: her story is very much one in progress. With only three turns' worth of development, this is someone who is just starting out, but she has exploded onto the scene with a fantastic first impression.

Xiuying is a decidedly wackier and more comedic character than most, one who brings to light the satirical absurdity of xianxia as a genre, with her obsession with noodles, proclamation for sudden mood swings and treating silly subjects with utmost seriousness, and a master who's just as much of an idiot as she is. Still, there is a sort of bull-headed earnestness to the little swordswoman that is absolutely infectious, which means I'm absolutely psyched to see what comes next for her and where the character will go. If the quality of her current adventures is anything to go by, she'll likely move even higher on my ranking.

#6. Wei Feng:

Remember what I said about Jin Muyi? That all goes double for Wei Feng, or perhaps even more. Wei Feng was created by @Humbaba pretty early on in the quest, on turn 2 I believe. He did not particularly stand out then. He then had a terrible performance on his first fate roll, making it only to the Second Heavenstage. Having only made it a single Heavenstage in twenty years, this man was to everyone's eyes a failure, IC and OOC.

Then he boiled himself nearly to death.

Wei Feng, fucking Chad that he is, burned himself in a cauldron of boiling holy water over and over again to activate his barely-functional meridians, because he is not a man who gives up. You see, Wei Feng had a dream. A dream to become a mighty hero without losing sight of his origins, to maintain his love for humanity no matter how high he climbed, so that he could protect mortals from any danger the world might throw at them. He would not give in here.

From there, Wei Feng's story of constant rebirth, of always getting back up, began to unfold, and it's one that's still going on. Every time some setback occurs, he survives it and comes back stronger than before, and thus he is known as The Phoenix. I know that in theory every Good Seed is equally talented, some are just luckier than others, but in my headcanon I like to imagine Wei Feng was born with barely more aptitude than the average Golden Devil, so that his stubborn refusal to die or fade away shines even brighter.

Where the fuck will The Phoenix's insane journey go from here? I don't know, but I'm waiting with bated breath to find out. In a way this is another in-progress character arc despite being a lot longer than the other two, simply because it's the world's most insane underdog story.

#5. Rina Callista:

Rina was... difficult to rank, in a lot of ways. She sometimes feels like her omakes are practically the same as story posts from occipital himself, due to how much Alectai's writing has gone on to define the setting and the story. She's in some ways more myth than character, the shining example whose birth and ascension represents the coming of a new Heroic Age.

In my mind, Rina's larger metanarrative role is similar to that of Superman: she is the template which all other good seeds define themselves by and against. Her tale is the tale of a person trying to become the ideal human, and the margins of her character are found in both the places where she succeeds and those where she falls short. While she's not at the top of the list because there's a few stories which simply resonated with me more, I do believe that of all the seeds she is the most important. Everyone who reads the thread should definitely also read her omakes.

#4. Eirene of Nowhere:

If I were ranking these seeds only on whose author I wish were still writing, it would be @Liliet 's Eirene. There is... not really a singular reason why I like Eirene so much. She's just so delightful. There is a somber wistfullness to Eirene stepping into immortality that a lot of these kinds of stories lack. Coming from a community of mortals, you watch as she sees everyone she knew fade away, which really front-loads the emotions and paints everything afterwards in a melancholic tint.

There is a refined, quiet and otherworldly beauty to everything Eirene does; if anyone was born to be a Cultivator it was her. There is a lot of philosophical musing in many of her omakes, which only reinforces this feeling. None of her storylines are particularly crazy, but you get invested in all of them because you really, really want to see Eirene not just succeed, but bring peace to everyone she encounters.

I really wish there was more of her stories, but in a way, her being so fleeting only makes her more beautiful.

#3. Ferenike:

Back when this was a tier list, the requirement to get into the S-tier was "could you carry a book series all by yourself?" No seed fits this better than Ferenike, because her omakes practically form novels in and of themselves. @BungieONI didn't write many vignettes for the character, preferring more longform, narrative adventures. This means you can't casually dip into Ferenike's story, you pretty much have to read the whole thing from the beginning. The upside to this is that her stories build a supporting cast, all of whom are compelling in their own right.

Ferenike is a fairly standard protagonist, being brave, kind, adventurous, incredibly determined, and bold, but she's very easy to root for because of how well her sheer drive to succeed is communicated; of all the good seeds she's got one of the most clear internal worlds. Her relatively straightforward characterization also makes her a good springboard for the other cast members of her stories.

Though the character has since become retired(presumably she died offscreen on turn 8), her stories are still there, still hold up fantastically well, and contribute to the worldbuilding on a level second only to Alectai's writing. Be sure to give them a look.

#2. The Ninth Prince:

Out of all the good seeds, @Kaboomatic 's Anoush Naag might be the most overtly protagonist-y as a baseline presence. And indeed, whenever Princey enters a scene, he becomes the main character regardless of whatever was going on beforehand. You can't help but watch with awe as this guy does just about anything, so powerful is his charisma.

The first sensation you'll feel when you start reading one of his omakes, moreso than the occular sensation of the words hitting your eyeballs, is the overwhelming taste of cheese. The Ninth Prince is an extremely pulpy character, going on silly adventures and performing dazzling stunts of derring-do, always with a cocky grin and a one-liner at hand. On top of this, he's probably the most plot-relevant of all the seeds, being directly tied to the Fifth Sea invaders, meaning knowing what his deal is will actually help you follow the main story.

I'm not even sure what else to say about this guy besides 'go read his stuff'. You'll be on the edge of your seat the whole time.

#1. Minervina Barda:

Taking her place atop the mountain as my personal favorite Good Seed is the terrifying Poison Witch herself, the heartless man-slayer with titles uncountable, @Katana1515 's Minervina Barda.

The thing which sets Minervina so far above her contemporaries is personality: she's bursting at the seams with character, making everything she does shockingly entertaining. Cocky, ruthless, audacious, misanthropic and a little bit deranged, Minervina is about as far from a heroic warrior as you can get. She's the archetypal trickster hero, striding to victory on the misery and bewilderment of her enemies and remaining endlessly charming as she does it.

Indeed, her greatest weapon isn't her unique constitution or the countless absurdly deadly substances she's brewed, but her devotion to pure, unfettered scumbag tactics above all else. You always want to read her stories to see what she'll stoop to next, and how she'll come out ahead no matter the odds. And if all that wasn't enough, her constant chemical experiments, a mix of equal parts magic and science, flesh out corners of the worldbuilding that almost no other seeds approach.

If you were to ask me whether The Ninth Prince or Minervina is my favorite good seed, my answer would change depending on the day of the week, the time of day, what I ate for breakfast and seismic activity off the coast of Indonesia. Neither is my favorite, they're equally great. I just happened to prefer Minervina today, when I posted the list, so that's why it shook out this way.

Not entirely happy with this. Don't think this adds anything new to the story now that I've written it but wordcount is wordcount.

"Some arrows are more precious than others, but every arrow has it's worth." Those are some words of wisdom that my friend passed down to me, which was in turn passed down from her clan through her mother. This has had many interpretations but the one that comes to mind right now is the Truth that pertains to what I have learned of her arts and the Curse of Metal they were almost certainly derived from.

The idea behind this Jade Archer's Peerless Eye is relatively simple. All materials have their own unique set of rules and capabilities. This is known to all. This archery art posits that these are Truths, unique pieces of the Heavenly Dao. With the right technique, you can draw out those pieces and even manipulate them into things that seem counter-intuitive initially.

For example, Imperial Jade has the interesting capability to devour qi which makes it difficult to use and gives it the moniker of Immortal Killer. Yet, I have seen my friend use the material freely not only controlling the amount of her qi it devours but also releasing it at will as a weapon. I have seen her carry it at every moment of her life and shift from the form of bangles to bows and arrows.

This clearly reveals how much of their own 'Truth' these materials hide. The reason this is relevant for speculations regarding the Curse of Metal is that based upon my own knowledge and that provided by Yixuan Shan, I speculate that this idea is what lies at the heart of the Blood of Bronze.

It is well known that Qi Condensation is a realm primarily of the physical. This is where it is the easiest to improve one's bloodline and most of the cultivation done here is done to improve the flow of qi through the body and prepare it to be a vessel for future growth. The initial state of the Curse of Metal seems to work by imposing the Dao of the Material upon the body.

While I'm unsure of how this was done, the Curse clearly has the capability to bind a material to one's body and make them grow alongside one another. I have seen my friend manipulate Imperial Jade through her utter understanding of the material. The Curse somehow does this automatically, drawing in external qi to grow and pushes the victim along with it.

It's hard to say how this is done. My personal speculation is that the Jade Emperor who created the Curse somehow managed to infuse his own Dao into the metals. He clearly had a strong connection to Imperial Jade which has a noted tendency to devour qi and then use it to grow as if a living thing when left alone.

If the user cannot keep up with the metals, then he will likely be subsumed by the metal's Dao entirely and become a living statue that constantly regrows by absorbing ambient qi. In terms of access to rare materials, this can be considered a useful end product in itself but it doesn't seem to be the Jade Emperor's end goal.

The next step seems to come in Foundation Establishment where it's not merely the Dao of the Metal being infused into the Individual but the Dao of the Individual begins to taint into the metal. This evolves further and further with each great realm until Nascent Soul where the metal even when separated from the host begins to exhibit the host's Dao. The previous failure condition still exists, allowing the Jade Emperor to get access to a relatively endless and somewhat source of a material.

It can also be speculated that the material itself influences the Dao of the Individual. We have only one case studys, which corroborates with this theory but don't prove it. The Silver Maiden had a Dao based off of a concept akin to beauty and purity which is something that silver is associated with. It is possible she was influenced by the material she was affected by.

The Silver-finned Pipefish Yixuan Shan was never directly affected by the curse but he grew by consuming its by-products and his Dao has aspects of Love and Oceans. He was absolutely influenced by the Silver Maiden to a large extent. As a newly ascended Nascent Soul he could match the ancient Jade Emperor who was the enemy of everything he loved but couldn't do anything to a Qi Condensation cultivator who had the blood of his love.

Now to a large extent we only have his words to go on for both of these but examination of the artifacts recovered by Antonius and his family seem to corroborate with his account. However, it is hard to say how much he was affected by silver and how much he was influenced by the Dao of the Silver Maiden which seemed designed to capture the hearts of others.

We also have information on the Jade Emperor himself to consider who seems to have a relation with Imperial Jade that was similar to those affected by the Curse of Metal. He could be described as gluttonous and powerful with both aspects associated with Imperial Jade but it is hard to say how much of this is not me simply ascribing him traits I think he should have.

What is important is that Antonius should be careful as he cultivates, keeping in mind the affects his bloodline may have. It is hard to say what the body and soul altering traits of the Curse of Metal would result in when combined with the adaptivity of the Blood of Bronze. I suggest giving him access to restricted notes on the clan bloodline when he is ready to look into it in order to ensure that he does not meet any surprises.