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

[Leon12431]

Morgraine

With a thunderous clank of metal, the immense door of the visualization room sealed shut as Olivia and I entered. The room was barren and empty with only a single item in the very center, a cauldron already filled with a viscous liquid that bubbled and frothed unnaturally. Even weak and untrained as I was, I could feel the energy wafting off of the cauldron, infusing the room with its power now that the final seal was closed.

Olivia, covered in white flames that danced as she prepared the final steps, intermittently glared at me and the surrounding room. The fire under the cauldron burned brighter under her tending, changing from a normal flame into something clearly of another world, the heat burned hot enough to beggar the desert without the city for heat and yet we suffered not the dangers of such heat. As the strange metal and liquid heated, the strange almost hypnotic movements of the liquid became ever more pronounced.

Waves and jets of the liquid broke the surface and danced within the lip of the cauldron, shimmering all the colors of the world and some that did not exist the liquid danced in light and space. I could feel something calling to me from within the liquid, waiting for me to meet with it once more and yet something repulsed me at the same time, waxing and waning in time with the shifting colors. When it shone with the sheen of metal it drew my sight and mind, when it darkened and shone the color of old blood it repulsed and so it revealed something of itself to my sight and understanding.

"The Liquid of Truth, an ancient artifact of our clan. It is said that if used by a Nascent Soul it could reveal the absolute truth of a person of a lower realm. Yet, this small sample and power will only provide the desired revelations of truth. It will show me the truth of your body and in turn you too shall understand your fate. For it is distilled Truth, formed from the sacrificed Dao of one of our ancient Elders." Olivia's voice broke the silence of the room, as she whispered the nature of the liquid before us, in a tone that I had never heard her use before. Reverence infused her every action and she moved with a purity of motion that revealed her use of her Dao to make sure that this was pure.

As I went to speak, she lifted a single finger halting my words, and shook her head as she turned back towards the cauldron of liquid. Flames danced ever larger upon her hands and glowed with energy as she unleashed the full might of an early stage Core Formation upon the arrays of the cauldron. From invisible the thin lines blazed into pure white light as her power infused the item and liquid it held within, with her power. Tendrils of power, drifted to and fro as they waved over the top of the liquid but then a splash of golden liquid touched them and the Liquid activated.

In a singular moment the liquid collapsed into a single solid rock, as its power was expended for now. Shimmering with countless colors and radiating power beyond my comprehension a mist drifted up and out of the now almost empty cauldron. The mist drifted towards me without warning and soon all I could see was the flashes of colors and energy as the mist sought the truth and revealed it. I could feel its energy digging into my body and the next thing that came forth was PAIN, the pain from the minutes after the ritual returned with a vengeance and I knew that I had only held it back by my rapid actions of reweaving and would need much more to truly master my new body. The last thing I could feel was falling.


Olivia

At least the boy could understand simple instructions, although I can tell that he is interested in the Liquid. Although no one could blame him for such a reaction, the Liquid is highly dangerous as it tempts one with the promise of knowledge, and that promise only becomes ever stronger as one grows in power. The cradle of purity I shrouded myself within, was not as he probably expected for the purpose of charging the cauldron, but instead to protect my mind against the insidious power of the liquid. Such a double edged sword, it serves as the ultimate cultivation and diagnosis aid possible, while at the same exact time being one of the single most dangerous artifacts that the clan has access to.

Holding myself against the promise of power, is a strain as Truth whispers of secrets and knowledge that could give me such power and yet I have to hold firm for such was the trap of this artifact. It sought to consume and only to consume, and only by our arts had such a thing been turned to some semblance of use, but even we could not eradicate the lingering echos of the Blood Path Nascent Soul that we used to create this relic millennia ago. As I feed power of my own into the matrix, the liquid began to react and shift in color and dance even as it tried to entice us into feeding it ever more.

I was strong enough to resist its siren call, through the flames of purity and the boy was too weak to suffer much under its call. Yet even so, I broke from the preparations to tell the boy of the official history of the relic in front of us, which has been proven to make it more effective compared to telling of the whole truth. His reaction, at the very least was neutral and frankly he seemed more inclined to examine and study the cursed relic than actually use it for anything.

The fire was set and all that remained was to ignite the arrays, and hope that father property aligned them. Sinking deep into my base of power, I called forth the purifying flame that was my Dao. I was the Puffier, I was the one to purge the darkness of the world, I was the one to wipe the world clean and so flames of total consumption tore into the world and were broken into pure energy, for nothing impure could hope to survive within my body, and fed into the arrays.

From thin lines all but invisible to even my senses, they blazed with white light the same as my flames of purity and started the final countdown. With a wave of my hand, my flames wreathe me in their comforting embrace, protecting me from the coming event. With a surge of power and energy the liquid transmuted into a solid once more, ready to be reclaimed and returned to the rest of its stock, while the energy contained within flew into the air as an ever shifting mist.

I could feel the mist calling to me, to let it reveal the truth of self and more, but I had learned my lesson well in the past and only held my flames tighter and so the mist drifted over to the one person that it could effect. To his credit the boy, didn't seem as terrified as most would be in his situation although that might be due to insanity or other disagreeable traits.

The shimmering mists slowly pushed its way into his body and past his skin, and now came the moment of truth. It would reveal in absolute detail every single aspect of his Qi systems and show them to me as well. Light blazed across his body, colors intwined in a chaotic display and the nonsensical formate of his meridians and acupoints that I had learned from my touches revealed and shown to be far far worse than I had worried them to be.

There was no resemblance to normal human systems within his body, there were almost eight systems built on top of each other and intertwined in some basic and almost certainly inefficient method, all feeding into a cluster of nine or was it one, split nine ways, Dantian. Each of the nine shown a single brilliant color except for the ninth, which shone the closest to human norm and yet even it was twisted and broken.

His dantians, all connected to each other and to the center and yet those connections between each other were wrong, pouring Qi of the wrong flavor into the other pools that were incompatible with such energy. At that moment I realized that his systems looked more akin to a spirit beast than a normal human, it was as if someone had fused eight beast cores to his body and spirit, each one tied to a single metal. Now at least the damage could be healed, although the amount of contribution points will be insane to gather enough resources to fix this massive issue of his systems, yet at the same time the potential of the mutation was undeniable.

If it took him nine times the normal amount to grow it would only stand to reason that he would become far more powerful faster than normal, but the fury of the heavens will be unrelenting and beyond furious if such is the case. It would depend heavily upon his actions and how worth while his bloodline proves to be, at least now I have an idea of how to help him repair and stabilize his mutation.

But for now, his bloodline mutation needed to be stabilized. It could always be improved later before he stepped beyond the heaven step rank after all. As such it was much more important to prevent him from dying or otherwise suffering for the time being. Withdrawing a tablet of stone, upon which was carved a single minor array, that was tossed onto the boy's writhing body and with a flash of light the three dimensional image of his Qi systems was forever captured within the stone, tied to his life force and soul it would provide all we needed to stabilize and move beyond for his life to begin anew. I could see why father wanted me to take this task, as my Dao of purity is one of the few that could probably aid him in moving forward.

A scream broke the silence, it was pure, pure pain and struck with force beyond that of a simple Qi condensation level individual, yet it came from the boy. Turning to face him, I saw his body writhing in pain and the reason was clear, the truth of his body was pain and so the mist was revealing that truth. His limited success was only a false illusion to hold his body together and to truly solve issues would have to be remade in its entirety. Picking him up, I could feel the taint of the mist trying to dig ever deeper and yet with a snarl upon my face I unleashed the flames that surrounded me and burned it out of his body, for its task was done.

With the mist purged from his body, I quickly picked him up and carried him to his own room. He would sleep for at least one day to recover from the strain of the ritual, in that time it was critical for me to create or discover a method by which he could truly cultivate and by extension heal him into a working form. Looking back at his sleeping form, as I moved out of the room, it struck me just how young he truly was, only 16 instead of the more common twenty odd years of most of the clan. Yet, even so he was far behind even the weakest and least skilled of others of his generation, his mutated bloodline will hold him back for decades at the very least. However, if he could achieve mastery and purify his bloodline its gifts could be immense, as would the costs , but it would be at least possible for him to grow to some level of power.

Regardless, such was far out of the reach of him or me at the present juncture, and with a sigh I left the room, sealing the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, I pulled out the Soul Image that was the result of the entire ritual and began to examine it in far greater detail than possible within the visualization room. The stone figurine, a near perfect replicate of the boy sleeping in the room behind me, glowed from within from countless lines of woven energy of nine colors. The weave although brilliant and beautiful, to the eyes was wrong and wasted immense amounts of energy through the interconnections. Yet, I could see why an unskilled or untaught person might fashion their systems in such a manner if they didn't understand what truly had to be done. Frankly, looking at the chaos of his spiritual body, I have no idea what to do to fix the issues. Ugh, back to father I guess, as only he might be able to shed some light upon this disaster of meridians and acupoints.

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the omake for the visualization ritual and showing just how screwed up Morgraine's Qi systems are.
no bonus right now

 

[Leon12431]

Hospital Report: Morgraine
Only for internal usage and for Elder clearance

Entry reason:
Brought in by guards at the Bronze Gates. Checked by mortal doctors, judged to be suffering from long term exhaustion, dehydration, starvation.

Original location:
Placed in standard mortal recovery ward. With arrays activated to accelerate healing process.

Notes:
Array energy levels dropped anomalously within the first hour of his placement. The master of the ward, Iatros Tai ordered a cultivator doctor into the ward to discover causation of such drainage of array; 10-21.

Iatros Tai has been given one official reprimand by order of Iatrosophist Achelous for not checking the drainage personally.

At this point, Tai personally checked the ward and discovered that patient Morgraine was a cultivator of the 1st step, and some form of cultivation based damage was the cause of the drainage. Acting appropriately Tai called for Iatrosophist Achelous after removing patient Morgraine from the mortal ward.

Iatrosophist Achelous' Notes:
The examination provided little information beyond the superficial. Namely that the patient was in fact a cultivator and that he had suffered damage to the entire body, as such under my personal authority he is to be placed in a personal cultivation ward.

Transfer:
Mortal ward to Personal Cultivation Ward 5-34
5-34 was chosen for remoteness and closeness to the locations of skilled cultivators. It had also not been in use for several decades and as such was simpler to purge and refit for an unknown person. Tertiary Iatrosophist Olivia assigned as personal doctor under order from Iatrosophist Achelous.

Justification of doctor selection:

Doctor Olivia, was chosen due to personal power and chosen Dao.
As an early Core Foundation expect her power is sufficient to handle any issue that can arise while treating patient Morgraine.
With her Dao of Purity she is able to purge and otherwise remove contamination of both physical and spiritual nature easier than normal individuals

Visualization room:
Access was request five days after arrival of Patient and assignment of new doctor Olivia. Room 1 already prepared by order of Iatrosophist Achelous, two hours before request was made. Set up for low intensity, low duration reading. Soul Stature stone was provided to Olivia by order of Iatrosophist Achelous.

Results:
Currently inconclusive. Morgraine is from the golden devil clan and bears a bloodline of metal. This bloodline is highly mutated and the Visualization ritual and soul stature provide direct proof of level of mutation.

Level of Mutation:

• Alpha 1 - total mutation, expected to be inheritable
  • Sub Type: Esoteric - mutation unique, focused on spiritual
    • Domain: Qi storage and power, potentially Dao

Conclusion of Mutation:
An unique mutation that has either split the patient's dantian into nine parts or has given him eight additional dantians. Qi concentration much higher than normal for cultivation stage, assumed to relate to extra dantians or divided dantian. Each smaller Dantian emanates a single color, it is assumed that each of them only respond to a single energy type and as such personal cultivation ward 5-34 has been set to rotate between energy types to find corresponding energy.

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a short report style omake on Morgraine's hospital time so far

 

[Leon12431]

An old man, centuries old and powerful beyond mortal keen, looked down upon a bed upon which lay the body of one of the most interesting cases in recent decades. Achelous pulled upon his spiritual might to peer past the veil of the physical and into the beyond. His eyes grey, burned green in the light of his Dao as life energy surged through his ancient body, causing bones elderly even for one of his stature to creak and shudder, refusing to let his body's suffering deter his will and shake his Dao, he looked upon the young boy in front of him.

Healing might not be able to heal the child's spirit or body, but it could reveal as much if not more than the liquid of Truth. Grimacing with distaste at the thought of the relic forged from a fallen Blood Cannibal Nascent Soul centuries ago, he pushed it out of mind with the ease of long practice for it was his responsibility as the master of this hospital to ensure its safety and allow for reasonable usage of such items. Withdrawing the soul stature of the child from one of his many pockets, which he had received from his daughter only a few moments ago, he looked at the chaotic nature of the strands of energy and his Dao illuminated the points of damage.

A smile creeped along his lips, for his power and Dao might not be able to restore that which was lost, but it could see and help him heal the child of the injuries limiting his ability to live. Reaching down with a finger he gently began to examine the spiritual structures of the boy's body with care to ensure that the touch of a Core Formation Expect would not harm the unstable body anymore.

Power rushed out of him, through his finger deep into the body below him. Green lighting danced along the body and within even as it examined the life and health of the spirt and body alike. Where before it could not find purchase, now with the guide of the soul stature in hand the pure power of healing poured forth into the channels of power within all living things. Then disaster struck, an eddy of power rejected by the body touched the surging might of healing energy coursing though the child, and a fragment of energy centuries beyond the child was torn away from his control and left to rampage throughout the body of the child he was Dao bound to heal. Causing harm to one of his patients could very easily see his Dao falter and such a fate would be terrible indeed, not for himself for he had long since came to terms with mortality and his power, yet it would throw everything into disarray at a time in which order was paramount.

Such disorder could not be allowed to exist and so, he must protect his Dao and by extension the hospital and all of his patients. Thus, he would have to use a rather dangerous art and relic, too manifest the energy of the student in corporal form so that he could safely remove his energy from the child, and perhaps do more healing than otherwise possible. Throwing my power outward to grab ahold of the item that I would need, I begin to prepare the room.

Fire bursts into existence as I purge the room of all contamination, my body and the one below me burst into green flames for a split second as all such contamination is expelled from our souls and bodies alike. As the flames burn forth more and more such impurities that could lead to harm burn away under the fury of the Dao of Healing. Flesh quivers as my power infuses the room and cells begin to revitalize as I turn back the hand of fate, my power tearing the child apart is canceled as I force my power to heal that which it shatters to buy time for the item that is needed to arrive.

After seconds of waiting the door opened and closed as a vial slammed into my hand. Golden with silver etchings with a stopper of platinum, one of the major treasures of the hospital. Yet one with such a limited use as to be all, but useless outside of the single event that is transpiring as of this very moment. For this vial holds a mist that pulls the power of cultivators into physical form regardless of personal power, allowing for precise manipulation of their powers, in theory it could allow anyone to kill or severely wound any single person, yet the restrictions upon its use limit it to such a degree that it is all but useless for us. Yet another sign of the Heaven's disfavor for our people, for if any other group had this item it would be able to be used in battle or to heal, but for us it will finally see use for the first time since it was found.

Green light flared as thee seal of emerald shattered and the platinum cork was pulled out of the vial. With its removal mist surged forth, glimmering in the light of my power it soon filled the room seeking a way to escape its ordained purpose, yet with my work it had no such escape and so fighting every step of the way it expended its energy and with a single mighty implosion it vanished and so did the room in a flash of darkness.

As the man opened his eyes once more he looked upon a scene of utter confusion. A room forged of nine metals was where he found himself, to his back stood a door of pure emerald and a room burning with green light dwarfing the room he looked upon. The room he looked upon, he realized was an enneagon, a nine sided shape with his door placed in a non existent side to protect the nine sided shape of the room. A celling that rose to a single point towered overhead as the metals all converged to a single point where all mixed into a single form.

As he turned to look around the impossible room, he saw nine figures standing in the center of each wall, Each a stature of the boy he was working to save, formed from the metal of the wall they stood before, each bore a different stance and countenance.

A stature of gleaming silver, flowed and shifted every moment he looked upon its face. Never stable always changing forever in motion, yet the face in the midst of constant motion yet remained stable and firm. Bearing a regal countenance of wisdom and sight beyond sight, in this unreal realm he could see beyond the surface and knew that one eye saw life and the other saw death and yet never did they fight for they saw the duality as one and the same. Where there is life there is death and the swirling body danced between the two states without fear for such was the way of nature. What was dead, was alive and what lived was dead, the fundamental truth of the metal made manifest. A Dao awaiting forging and ready to stand tall and regal, the duality of life and death forever bound as one. Hope eternal for the endless cycle never ended and in death life and in life death.

Tearing his eyes from the sight of something so akin to his own Dao, he looked to the right and saw another stature. The sight of the next stature made him long for the previous, for looking upon this stature was akin to looking upon something long since corrupted and broken. Yet, forcing his sight past the darkness he could see flickers of something glorious within the corruption. Where the intent of the first was clear to his sight in this realm this stature cried its purpose in sadness, it was not meant to exist forever and yet it was forced to do so by the nature of the world. It wished to become subsumed into the gold and yet it could not and so it could only suffer. Yet, even in its suffering it spoke of a better end than its current existence. It might be forever blocked from the gold, but it could be refined and so it spoke of its stability and simple weight, and so another Dao was revealed to the eyes of the watcher as the stature spoke of simple presence and the weight of duty. It spoke of nothing so grand as the endless cycle of life and death, but instead it simply stated that it was forever doomed and yet such a fate could not break it and so it came to embody something greater, determination and stability. As his eyes left the stature he saw within another meaning buried beneath the first and yet it slipped his sight as his eyes drifted onwards towards the next stature.

Leaving the stature of duty and weight behind his eyes danced to the third of nine and looked upon, a stature wearing a robe of metal with books piled at his feet, a pen in hand with paper ready to record information. The face of this stature was calm and orderly, yet behind the cool exterior, he could sense a form of anceint wisdom from the stature. This stature claimed no importance, nor did it cast itself down into the pit as did the first or the last one. Instead this statue simply accepted what it was for what it was, nothing more than that for such was the simplest and most truthful answer. Its understanding of self protected it against the dangers that threatened them all, for it knew and understood what the others did not and so it simply waited for when it was needed. A third Dao born within the statue became revealed and it was simple and to the point, a simple conviction that humanity's mind and wisdom would allow ascension in time, as the body followed the mind to ever greater heights. In the end it was simple, yet none the less potent for such simplicity, for it understood when to fight and when to find another path. A truly flexible Dao to be sure and yet once more his eyes drifted to the next statue the fourth of nine.

Gleaming and resplendent, the fourth statue stood regal and firm in front of its wall. Golden skin and eyes burning into the eyes of the watcher and deemed him lesser. Pure of form and mind, perfection made real, soul empowered beyond, all was held within the heart of the golden stature. Yet, even as arrogance chocked the vision, within lay a hidden understanding drawn from perfection of mind, that revealed the flaws of self to the statue such as the one he looked upon last. Yet, even as he looked he saw only a single conviction, only a single meaning and only a single path for this statue, perfection in all, nothing else would satisfy this being of gleaming metal. For it was the apex and the ultimate goal and so all else bent the knee before its lawful might, yet nothing within this unreal realm was ever so clear and concise and within the overbearing superiority of the statue lay another idea, intrinsic and yet another shape for the statue to be forged into. A Soul unburdened and untouched by darkness, a Soul able to survive all that could be thrown at its course, something that would never bend to another path. A Dao of Perfection warred with a Dao of the intrinsic might of the Soul of all life, awaiting the final choice to be made in the coming years.

Onto the fifth he looked as the shimmering golden statue of the fourth declared his time done. Shining copper was what he saw, the statue was that of an artist with paint and canvas ready for the work to begin, where the third stood ready with quills and books to write, this one cleaved to another side of humanity and yet accepted the other side for its own nature. Without judgement it accepted everything and understood that it all was part of the grand picture that was the world as a whole. It simply knew that there was ideals beyond its purview and accepted such and so much as the statue of tin protected by its internal understanding, the statue of copper resisted by its understanding of the grand picture of the world. Yet, more secrets lay within as the watcher looked within and saw a healing hand placed upon an ailing brow and the one so injured gained in strength as copper energy washed into the body below the hand. With a creak of metal, the copper statue shifted its face to stare at the watcher and its lips shifted a slight amount, even as it began to paint a new image. The last he could see of the copper was that its Dao was in flux just as the gold and yet it had many more options, from balance to healing and yet others hidden within.

The sixth statue of gleaming silver, stood apart and aloof from the others as it stared into the distance. Littered at its feat lay countless scrolls of events to come, and others writing of the nature of people and self. Taking the form of a ponderer of ancient secrets it looked forth and without worry, for it knew that which came would not always be so, for it saw beyond the limits that sought to blacken its sight and the gleaming light of its sight pierced even the darkest of times. Yet, it still remained apart from the other metals aloof and distant from the others as its sight provided insight that pushed them away and the gold was the furthest from it, as it too claimed purity of form and self as one of its possible paths, yet such was of a different intent and within thousands of pathways lay in wait for the master the chose and grow along. In the end it was simply a Dao of Potential ready to be shaped into another more completed form in time to come, ready to wait until that day arrives.

The seventh statue formed of grey iron, stood bathed in blood with sword in hand, armor thicker and greater than any that the clan had used for centuries gliding its form. Its body that of the ultimate warrior and yet, beneath such a prominent exterior, its interior spoke of the lie above. Nothing could ever grant the body or itself the power to charge forth into battle, yet it stood yearned for such a fate, dreaming of spilling of blood and the crack of bones, the tearing of flesh, thus it turned to another approach if it could not fight its battles it would empower others to take the toll of blood in its name. Energy the color of rusted iron flowed around the form and in visions of events impossible and possible, the watcher saw legions empowered by the rusted energy and charge headlong into the fray tearing asunder the enemies of the clan. Land after land fell to their march once more as the statue of Iron roared its fury to the uncaring heavens of the world daring them to strike it down in their fury. Pushing through any obstacle in its path through direct force, it care not for subtly or other such acts and so it had formed of its own a Dao of War that waited only the crucible of battle to temper and refine into a greater force, ready to bring the sword down upon the others of the world. Such determination, blurred the vision of the unreal realm as the singular purpose that the statue cleaved too, distorted all around it and so the vision soon left for the eight metal.

The eight statue was of a different nature than the others, it awaited refinement. It could become anything of the others as if it was empty of meaning, yet buried within the void lay meaning. A void of potential that awaited a call to respond and become something else, a Dao that could never be true unless another was built atop it, and yet it would only respond to one of the other paths for another metal. It would cleave only to another Dao path of another metal from within this room. Such a contradiction was grand, and yet sensible for this was the metal of the least, it bore nothing of note and even its strengths were less than the weaknesses of the other metals. Thus, the watcher's eyes drifted to the ninth and final segment of the unreal realm.

There only emptiness awaited his sight, as an empty pedestal awaited its statue. As he looked upon he knew in his heart that this was the pedestal of the boy's chosen Dao, the one unrestricted by the mutation of his bloodline. The one that would truly be his and so it was yet to form and so it lacked any presence within this room. As he looked upon the form, his mind greater than mortals understood the issue at hand, for without a ninth Dao the other eight were overloading his body and soon it would scale out of control for they would begin to cultivate independently of the boy and eventually shatter his body. Thus, he must reshape this realm to protect the child as his eyes drifted from the line of statues he saw in the center of the enneagon, an orb of emerald energy and with a faint smile stretched out a hand and the energy dispersed back into his body, leaving the child pure of such taint.

With the purging of his energy done, now he could use the unreal realm for another purpose. He had hoped that such was possible but never had he dreamed that he would gain such insight from this single artifact. By his calculations the use of this artifact and the knowledge that could be gleamed from this experience was more than worth the usage of several such treasures and to receive such insight from a single one was a coup of immense scale. For, his beyond mortal mind and Dao were already discovering ways to heal the Daos of those injured that never before would have considered and beyond such insights he now could see pathways beyond the obvious just waiting to be walked. Shaking his mind from such tantalizing dreams, he focused once more upon the task at hand.

With a wave of energy the enneagon shattered into nine shards of power, each a side becoming a shard ready to be remade anew under the guidance of his Dao and power. The unbalanced and unwieldy shape to be reforged into a new order ready to suffer and grow with time and skill, able to function and live. Life would be validated under his work and so the child would live a long life from his work of today within this unreal realm. The empty pedestal of the ninth and final Dao, the one of the child without limit was torn away from the wall of its nature and the metal that lay behind it was twisted and forged into a new form, supporting and empowering the empty pedestal. Eight openings made of paradoxical metal, formed at the base and the pedestal flared with power as the reforging continued under the power of the watcher. Until, in a second that was infinite, it was done. Eight openings waiting for the Daos of Metal to link into and support, arrays carved to direct power to help build the ninth and final Dao of the child from the energy of the others.

With the creation of the center the rest of the work could begin. Metal bent and warped as it flowed like water to a new order, losing height in favor of thickness the nature of the statues became refined and greater, even as the metal began to flow into the center of the new form. With a final push the grand work was completed as the eight metals fused into the center and with a release of breast the watcher and actor stepped back to observe the new room. No longer an unbalanced enneagon that would by its very nature overpower the child with its nature, instead now an octagon stood before his sight, each metal feeding into the child and order from chaos had been forged. The future of the child would no longer be in doubt and it was up to the child to progress further and move higher in realms, but such was possible now for him at the very least.

With a glance over the unreal room, the watcher closed his eyes and pushed himself from the place and when his eyes reopened he stood once more in the real world. The soul statue in hand changed, no longer chaotic in nature but instead energy flowed without hindrance dancing along the eight fold paths of his body. With a smile on his face Achelous pulled out a report and crossed out a note, to replace it with another. By his order the child would receive cultivation supplies, now that his bloodline mutation was understood by him and it was healed to a high degree. Yet, even so the child would need a teacher of high skill and power, so it seemed that Olivia would not be getting out of this job anytime soon, the man's smile twitched with humor at the thought.

As he left the room, he looked back at the child and wondered which path his Daos would push him down in time, but such was not to be decided any time soon and it was for him to chose the path. The only hope was that the child would have enough will power to forge nine fold Daos, and master his true might, if he could achieve such what wonders could he create in time.


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Finally this part of the story for Morgraine is done. I have been building to this point of revealing the truth of just how altered he truly is from other people due to the ritual.

Cool thing (I know that this is quite a bit different from the norm but its critical to the character): Nine Fold Daos - cultivates nine different Daos at once gaining nine fold power, but nine fold risk, is unable to achieve more than one Dao pillars per Dao, must go through 13th heaven step.

If the above is too different then just a normal Power increase.

@occipitallobe just making sure you see this

 

[Leon12431]

What is the soul? Was the question that Morgraine was pondering, with thick ancient tomes of lore scattered all around him. Each and every single writer of the clan, and those without had their own ideas of what the soul truly was. The writings of the Nascent Soul Barak, from several thousand years ago, spoke of the soul as the true self and in reaching the level of the Nascent soul and above one could truly become that which they already were. Yet, another Nascent Soul, Nefeli of a later era spoke of the soul as a simple energy construct, created by the mind being infused with Qi energy and as such nothing more than a simple improvement to the mind.

Yet, others had wildly different views on the soul and even some ancient writings contradicted each other, so the question remained. What is a soul? Was it a simple energy construct forged by a human mind using a little understood energy source, or was it something already present within the person from birth and only at a certain point able to truly become manifest? Such issues plagued Morgraine for he had learned of his fate in having to forge nine daos, eight of which were to be built upon the fundamental nature of the eight metals of his bloodline.

With a sigh, he picked up the sheet of paper that held the insights that the master of the hospital had had with his vision quest. And yet again nothing made sense to Morgraine, for the golden stature had called to him as the first to be completed, yet its paths were narrow and firm, with little to flex within the normally flexible metal. Yet, one of the paths was of the soul and that had called the most to his mind, yet now after years of study, he was no closer to knowing what a soul truly was.

However, he realized that the writings of the ancient were not his, but others and as such they would have no place by default within his decision. With a flick of a finger, a small amount of energy was expended to snap close the massive tomes and prepare them for their imminent return to the selfs from which he had gathered them. Blinking, to clear his eyes of strain and stress, he recentered himself and began to focus upon what he believed to be the Soul.

Turning inward towards the center of self and mind, letting his mind dance along the golden threads that bound his body in harmony with eight other strands, each pulsating with life and each calling forth their own individual drive and unchangeable nature. From gold came radiating waves of perfection, body, mind and something far more ephemeral than the others. Where perfection was clear and easy to comprehend, and both body and mind reverberated along similar pathways, none of them truly called to him. Their notes taken by other metals such as Tin which sang a song of wisdom and mental power, yet Gold was to be the first forged and yet only the last and least understood path remained.

Underlying all of Gold, was the core of perfection, yet by definition Gold shared its other traits with the other metals, thus implying that Gold was not the prime vector for such ideals. Instead only that which was its own would be viable, and if perfection was the sign of Gold and it bore the mark of only one form alone, then didn't that imply that that last form to be the most perfected form possible. Thus, implying that the unknown element, which was known as Soul, to be the most perfect form possible.

Morgraine's eyes snapped open, as he came to the simple yet profound conclusion. The nature of Gold was Perfection, yet other metals held the secondary traits of Gold alike, thus Gold would not be Perfect in those realms, thus the only one it could truly be Perfect in would be the one that was its alone. In a singular moment it all became clear, the Soul was Perfection itself, for that singular ideal unified all the dispute and contradictory writings of long dead ancients. For if the Soul was the truest self, or an emergent energy construct it was still the most perfect form of life possible. Able to grow and evolve with time, gather still greater power, yet beyond the reach of those below in all but the most twisting of circumstances.

Knowledge fell into place in the light of this realization, of course cultivation would result in a Soul becoming manifest. For what was cultivation if not the ongoing perfection of self, and if the Soul was the most perfect form of life possible, then of course it would serve as the final point of ascension. The mark of true mastery of self and realized perfection was the leaving behind mortal form, for a life as an unbound Soul. Unfettered by the chains of mundane life, forever able to grow without limit, able to bend the laws of the world by the very weight of self and conviction. There was no doubt, the Soul was by all measures the ultimate expression of life, perfect beyond all other forms imaginable.

He could feel his body responding to his new conviction, as energy poured from his body almost to the point of completely draining him, yet this was needed for the creation of his first False Dao Pillar. Golden energy poured forth in a torrential flood as he grasped the Gold Stature that stood in front of the golden wall, and forced it into a new shape. Ephemeral yet invincible, untouchable yet manifest, Perfect yet capable of growing yet more. More and more such paradoxical natures were infused into that which had once been unrefined Gold and now became something far more. As the energy poured forth to allow the shaping to continue, the first of nine Dao pillars slowly took form within his heart, and so began the Pillar of Soul.

Chains flickered into existence as the False Pillar rose into being, lashing the parts of the pillar together, readying them to be forged as one in times to come. Straining to complete the work with his rapidly draining resources Morgraine drew from the other metals, to support the completion of Gold and its evolution into its final form, and a moment that seemed to stretch to infinity and back the False Pillar was forged. Yet, imperfections littered the surface and shards broke away refining the pillar ever more, as Morgraine began to smile a stab of pain forced him to bend over as his heart burned with fury and pain. Looking within, he saw that a shard of Gold had found its way to the empty pedestal, where his personal Dao would one day reside.

Reaching forth with his mind, he touched the shard and knew in his heart and mind that he would forever be bound to the truth that the Soul was Perfection. No longer were his convictions a momentary thing, but now his very life blood. Every day he would work to perfect his soul in tandem with his body, readying for the day in which he would shed mortal flesh to become Soul and Soul alone, to take his place among the ascended Masters of life.

-------------
A shorter than normal omake for me, but needed this posted fast.

 

[Leon12431]

A man stood impassively before Morgraine, with sneer on his face as he glared at him. "I do not see a fighter, I see only a mutant. That is unworthy of being taught our arts. Your blood is impure and corrupted, if it was up to me you would be sent scurrying to your friends in the Blood Path. However, much to my fury, I am not allowed to throw you to the monsters and abominations that you should be with, instead-" the man almost retch as he spoke, "- I am being ordered to train you. Follow me and do not slow me down." The furious man all, but raced out of the room, leaving Morgraine to follow as fast as possible.

Although his face appeared serene, underneath the layer of forced calmness, a swirling vortex of fury and hatred burned and twisted in his heart. For always had he been treated as such by those that were not the doctors, when ever he appeared to help with some simple mundane task the person he was preparing to help would inevitably scream at him. Yet, although the action was the same the degree was not. Even though all hated him or found his appearance distasteful, none had ever been so brazen to speak as Argus Ariston, did just now.

The only reason, the arrogant fool had been hired was that for all his unwarranted arrogance and hubris he was without a doubt one of the best teachers for martial battle available. At only a little over two hundred years old he had only broken threw to the second Great Realm a short while ago, and as such still retained the memories of how to fight in the Qi condensation realm. However, Morgraine raged in his mind, all of that only furthered his almost unbearable arrogance. Taking deep breaths to calm down and stabilize his thoughts, he considered another facet and a true smile drifted across his lips as he did so, for his arrogance was the primary reason that he was cheap enough to hire for lessons.

No one, absolutely no one that knew of him, could bear to be near him for any length of time and as such he was constantly short on contribution points and other supplies. Thus, he had to sell the only thing he could sell, namely his expertise in formation fighting and dueling with all manner of martial weapons. Which in turn only furthered his arrogance and thus the cycle continued without end. In some ways its a shameful waste of talent, mused Morgraine as his thoughts calmed down, if he could temper his arrogance into something more worthy, he could easily become a wealthy and respected tutor for even the prodigies. Even sadder is that he doesn't seem to realize that his progress will only slow down as he grows higher in power, if he doesn't increase his skill at teaching and control of self, but I doubt he will ever truly progress past the first few stages of his realm due to his arrogance. Perhaps one day.

Shaking his head as he turned his focus to the run and working to keep Argus in his sight, Morgraine began to calm his mind. Ever since the day when he had forged what he had come to call the False Dao Pillar of Soul, mediation had changed, no longer was it a simple process of emptying the mind, now shards of ephemeral concepts drifted within and constantly pulled at his focus. Shards of gold and shards of black pulled and pushed at his focus without end, as energies given form began to test the true strength of will. Although the push and pull were yet weak and easily mastered, in time such forces would become much stronger and great danger could result if mishandled.

Eventually, as his body began to wane in strength they reached the place that Argus had chosen to serve as the training field. Even on a cursory glance, it was clear that this was one of the near uncountable, Aeon Fields, that dotted the clan's realm. Such places were both prized and feared in equal measure, for the places themselves could serve as the most potent teachers of martial combat, but their ancient construction and the lost of their design had long since corrupted their natures, no to find one properly working was a feat worth enough contribution points to keep one feed and growing until Core Formation.

"Stand there mutant. As your subhuman brain can hopefully determine, we are on the edge of an Aeon Field. Now, this field is interesting in a manner that will fit you very well, after all it it would not do to give an abomination such as yourself access to something that could actually help the clan improve. Instead of wasting or letting something so useful break due to it trying to help something that is inhuman, I decided to bring you to this Aeon. As mandated by law, I have to give you information about this field." Argus growled and shook with rage as he slowly, oh so slowly pulled a piece of paper from one of his pockets, "This field is the Aeon of Mind and Soul, it will focus on tests of the mind and soul in place of physical tests. Such tests can include: mirages, mental attacks, weak soul attacks, and other such vectors of harm. Furthermore this Aeon is corrupted and has lost its safety protocols, as such it will aim for your death. This trial will last one hour, fifteen minutes, thirty seconds, and one hundred seventeen milliseconds." Argus dropped the paper with an expression of relief as his face twisted back into a sneer from the professional expression he had taken when reading from the paper, "After you survive this entire trial, only then will I teach you anything at all. Hopefully, your primitive, mutated and corrupted mind can realize the simple fact that I will not give you any assistance while in the trial."

With a suppressed growl, Morgraine stepped past the insufferably arrogant man onto the Aeon Field. Qi raged and warped as the field came to life, impossible vistas appeared only to vanish in mist as the energy of the place danced and shifted. A pillar of Absolute Pain drove deep into his mind, nothing but pain existed, the very idea that something beyond pain existed was impossible, for the pain that the Aeon Field inflicted was enough to instantly kill a normal human as their brains simply disintegrated under the fury of the pain, Morgraine's brain and all other cultivators could survive this onslaught of pure pain, but only a Nascent Soul could shrug off the pain entirely. Then the Pain vanished as if it never was, even the memory of the pain faded away only leaving an echo of the moment of agony.

Running an arm across his face to wipe away the ocean of tears that had poured from his eyes in response to the pain, Morgraine was confronted with an edifice that he had seen last decades ago. The hut in which his life had taken on such a different path, however the hut was not the only image before him, to the left stood a large mortal farm. The house homely and the fields well tended to and the people happy with neighbors laughing and working together for the harvest. With a jolt for the first time in decades he saw, the figure of his younger sister, yet she had aged. When he had left for the city she had only been eight years of age, a jolt of purely emotional pain tore into his heart as he looked at his own body, which seemed to be in the prime of his life with decades ahead of him, yet his younger sister looked almost ninety and shadowed faces he could not make out danced around her.

Without awareness he slowly moved towards the fence surrounding the field and saw a tombstone resting under an ancient apricot tree that had stood at the edge of his family's farm for countless generations. Slowly walking towards one of his favorite haunts as a young child, he looked at thee branches heavy with fruit and recalled the legend that a powerful cultivator planted the tree in ages past, with nostalgia he ran his hand threw the leaves of the tree and remembered just how much impact those simple family legends had on him, since the first time he had heard of the legend of the apricot tree he had wanted to become a cultivator. Yet, with a pain of grief he turned from the branches of the fruit ladened tree, all but bending under the weight of its corp, to look upon the tombstone. Falling to his knees, and with a shaking hand fearful of what he might discover, he pulled away the moss that covered the worn stone letting his beyond human eyes make out the words engraved into the stone; In memory of Alastair Aegeus, a son lost to the ravages of the world before his time.

Morgraine fell backward onto the ground, no longer a stoic and stable figure now only a man that had been confronted with the truth of his actions. For the moment, if anyone had seen him right then, they would have believed him to be a simple mortal for all of the hard won control and mastery of self bought over the course of decades, deserted him as he looked upon the name that he had willingly thrown away all those decades ago. His ancient reasons, flashed threw his mind as the memories of a better time tormented him once more, why had he thrown everything that he was away on a whim? In the end only one truth remained; he had thrown aside all his past for fear of their reaction, his wish to return and see them a nonexistent dream only dreamt up to salve a guilty mind from facing the truth of its actions.

Images drawn from long since faded memories formed, super imposed over the farm and ramshackle hut, a young boy played without concern with his two older brothers and younger sister. Enjoying life after the day's work had been completed, then after what seemed an eternity of seeing his own past be made manifest before him, the countless images of him as a child faded away and a moment that had never faded over the many decades appeared. Alastair stood underneath the boughs of the ancient tree looking towards the turtle bone mountains, with a groan of rage Morgraine dimly realized the true horror that was to befall him now. No longer was the Aeon Field merely content to shove all of his failings and errors of judgement, now it was gearing up to truly torture him for his actions. That day all those decades ago, that started this path, all done by a simple action that he had taken careless of the dangers, convinced of his own immortality by the folly of youth. The day that truly taught him just how much the Heavens hated his bloodline, for Alastair had never done such actions and had no intention of such, yet something pushed him into this fate.

Now in the vision, Alastair stood under the tree and instead of taking that single fateful step towards the mountains, turned away and returned to his home. Days passed and then months and Morgraine saw what he knew to be an illusion crafted from his dreams and memories, yet such truth did not detract from its impact. He saw himself live life and age as a mortal, skin and muscles fail and wither decades younger than his current age, yet a single difference stood out, in this dream as a mortal he was truly happy. Not the flashes of happiness that so dotted his life, but instead a simple constant form of happiness that bespoke of contentedness in life. What could equal such pure happiness in life? What could cultivation provide that would make such a life better lived than a mortal's life? They might live short and weak lives but were they not happy, content in their lives and able to find companionship with ease? Questions inundated his mind as he confronted one of humanity's greatest desires; that of a simple, safe, and happy life. With a sigh, strength fled his body as he fell upon the illusionary ground and it was all he could do to look upon the illusion of another course of life, even questioning what the goal of cultivation was.

The very moment that that thought entered his mind, the False Dao Pillar of Soul, shook with energy as cracks formed within. As the pillar shook, his mind clouded and slow pondered what it could mean, until with a flash came clarity. In a split second strength flooded his limbs as he cast off the malaise that had captured his mind so easily. A grim smile spread along his face, as one of the adages that he had long since learned about illusion and mental attacks of low levels, for the unprepared such are deadly but for the prepared such are easily defeated. Of course as with all rules, exceptions abounded, but generally speaking such was true. Now wielding his energy directly he could feel the energy of the Aeon field infesting his mind and spiritual form, energy clashed as he and the Aeon warred over the true master of his mind. Yet, in the end the Aeon was only a training field and thus, it fell before him, haltingly slowly but it fell nonetheless. With a final exultation of effort, the last of its creeping tendrils was torn from his body and cast away, yet the memories that it had dredged up were not so easily banished.

As the illusion faded to reveal the empty training field once more and Argus having taken a seat on the ground, Morgraine forcibly accepted what the truth was and turned towards the bastard that had pushed him into an illusory field without any chance to truly prepare. "So the mutated abomination lived. I guess even something like you, can handle a minor trial such as that Aeon. Now, you expect me to train you, right? I refuse, and will never train you, I will not sully my name with teaching your kind. In fact." Without pausing in his speech Argus blasted forward with strength beyond that of any Qi condensation cultivator with sword drawn, with a clang of metal on metal Morgraine's blade intersected with Argus' a mere millimeter from his face. "I see a mutant like yourself has gotten some benefits from your curse. After all, no true Clan member would have such speed, but you might have speed, but you lack strength of arm." So saying Argus' blade began to push down driving their crossed swords ever closer to Morgraine's neck.

"I am not an abomination. I gave myself the label of mutant, for I am one." Morgraine spoke threw gritted teeth as his muscles strained to even slow the inexorable march of death.

"Finally." Speaking a word for the first time not drenched in arrogance and fury, Argus disengaged with such speed that Morgraine fell forward almost impacting the ground, "Just how messed up was your life? I get calling yourself a mutant, but really accepting someone calling you an abomination, until facing death itself? As you can tell, I am not the absolute stereotype of all despicable cultivators ever told to children. Frankly, I am both curious and disgusted that you seemed to expect the vitriol that I spewed at you, so tell me please, just how many of my threats have you actually heard in truth?"

Shaking from the rush of fear and shock, "Was everything a test?" Was all that Morgraine could say in a voice laced with pain and despair, falling to his knees as emotions wracked his form. "If you mean all the verbal abuse I hit you with, then yes. Ugh, this is not working. " As Argus simply looked on as the one he had been hired to teach broken down into a sobbing wreck before him, he decided to extend a branch of trust to the young man. Taking a seat nearby Morgaine he spoke in a quiet tone, "As a young cultivator I was always stronger, faster and otherwise better with martial matters than the vast majority of those in the Clan. This, naturally lead to arrogance and people seeking me out for tutoring. I accepted and this only increased my arrogance. In time I gained an atrocious reputation, yet my skills were enough for people to still hire my services, yet the price I could ask for was always lowering. It is around then that I began to build my Dao to break through. I do not know how your mind visualizes the spiritual, for me it was three floating diamonds, each representing a Dao that I could follow. The first and largest was arrogance, which is what pushed me out of that mindset over time, just the thought of that being my Dao was enough. Then came teaching, something much more palpable for me to accept as I was a teacher and could easily see myself moving up in the ranks, and finally was Weapon which was me being a solo champion. Out of the three options I choose Teaching. There was no moment of realization that I had been a colossal idiot, but with my Dao chosen and planning on breaking through to the next great realm, I read probably around a thousand books on the principles behind teaching and those books taught me how to truly get the most out of my students. Now days, I purposefully have my students spread my old reputation around to ensure that I seem authentic when I act the arrogant idiot that spawned a billion and one moral fables about not being. When I am hired for new individuals I purposely push their buttons until they snap and refute what I am saying about them, and due to my reputation it hits with much more impact due to people thinking I am saying what I truly think of them. In the end it gives me an idea of how verbal abuse a person can take and what things work as trigger points, if a frontline fighter can be sent into a rage by a simple concept then I need to teach them to control that reaction, that is why I do what I do. Frankly, though I am rather surprised with you, I was fully expecting a violent reaction to what I called you and was ready at all times, but even though I managed to enrage you to an extreme degree you held yourself back. Something that is truly impressive considering just how much I was needling you about your blood, however, based on the Aeon field and your current reaction that you need to put to rest whatever ghosts you have left behind."

Taking a pause, after his confession to gaze out over the empty landscape, nodding once to himself and with silent footsteps faded from the area. Shadows shifted and lengthened and all the while Morgraine remained on his knees overwhelmed, emotional agony twisting like daggers in his stomach, until finally he pulled himself to his feet and turned towards the direction of his old home. As he walked along the same road that had brought him to the city decades ago, memories of his own tormented his mind as he forced himself to see his actions for what they truly were, a grim thought crossed his mind that perhaps the Aeon Field had in fact helped him in the end, but such musing faded away as he became lost in the monotony of walking, letting one foot fall and then the next taking its place, without pause and without rest he walked, past the point that even his refined body suffered, past where aches and muscle soreness arose. He walked until blisters formed upon his feet and yet he silently and stoically walked forward towards the house and family he had so long ago abandoned. Eating and drinking only as much as absolutely needed, sleeping even less than the bare minimum and doing the absolute lowest required to remain at the level he currently was. His journey continued for weeks such, he walked through burning sun and frozen night careless of the damage the his body might suffer only caring about putting to rest the past once and for all, no matter the form that such an action might take.

After weeks of walking, almost on the verge of dying of thirst he stumbled into the sign outside of the village in which he had grown up in. With slow plodding steps he made his way through the village and dimly noted that nothing had change but the people, the old smithy was right where it had been and so was the rest of the town it almost seemed that he had traveled back decades, yet instead of Galen at the forge now an unknown man worked the fires and all the shops followed the pattern. Old Lotus' tavern was now run by a women bearing a faint resemblance to Lotus making her most likely Lotus' great granddaughter. For all the resemblance that the town bore to his youth it was inescapable that time had changed even this sleepy corner of the clan's lands. Coming to a stop outside of the fence that he recalled so vividly now, how his brothers had played with him all along its borders as their sisters laughed at their antics.

"Brother?" A frail, elderly voice whispered, slowly turning as if afraid, he saw his youngest sister, now the apparent elder of them. "yes." Was all he could manage as he looked upon how his sister had changed, no longer did she have hair as black as a moonless night but now silverly grey and winkles filled her aged skin, yet in her eyes he could see the fiery passion that he could recall from her childhood. "Hmph. Looks like you have still not broken that habit of yours. Let me guess, something poked you and you walked all the way here nearly killing yourself for some idiotic reason. Well, I am not letting you die on my doorstep." With surprising speed and strength for her frail frame, she grabbed his arm and began to drag him with her towards the house, "You are in luck as the family is getting together tonight and there is more than enough food and drinks to satiate even your prodigious appetite."

------
So I decided to do some character development of Morgraine and this is the result of that. It is without a doubt the most Dialog I have ever written in one thing before and I took a rather large gamble with Argus' character, but I think it works for its purpose.

 

[Leon12431]

In the early dawn, in the far edge of the clan's territory, Morgraine looked towards the mountains as he had so many decades past. The golden rays of the sun drifting through their sky piercing peaks and chasms countless meters deep, illuminating the desert below in an ever shifting patten of light. It had been decades since the last time he had seen this sight and had taken the time to enjoy such a mundane pleasure of life, yet now he returned in part to his long past childhood, enjoying something that had always been something to awaken too.

The wind blew strongly as it ever did causing his hair to drift freely as he let himself relax fully for the first time in decades, before this day he had never noticed the immense weight upon his shoulders. The weight of guilt and self hatred pushing him down with all the force that a Core Formation Elder could muster but, impossible to detect, yet now with reconciliation the weight had lifted allowing him to once more enjoy life for the beauty of life itself. The dark grey of the world given way to colors once more, allowing for many more options for him to take joy in than ever before.

Even the knowledge of the Trials coming soon, was not enough to shroud the world once more, and more than just guilt had been banished in the past days. The lingering fearful rejection of family had been abated, a smile gracing his face as he drifted in memories of the last few days where his younger sister and older brother's families had come together for a large feast in the old family house. All of the myriad children had also come, with their own children letting him meet and discover his family once more. From a small family of farmers to a sprawling family with apprentices in most trades and even in some cases masters, he could see the pride with which his siblings had for the progress that their family had made in the decades since his leaving.

The food might not have been of the inhuman quality and quantity that he had come to expect, but there was something impossible for such perfectly cooked food to capture that the minor imperfections added to the meals, and those very imperfections were what had allowed him to truly enjoy the food that his sister and the other women of the family had crafted from fully mortal ingredients. His personal favorite was the apricot pie and cake that had been baked using the fruits from the tree that his tombstone rests under, his smile widened a slight bit as he reflected on the fact that the tree that had provided him shade in his younger years was in fact passively consuming Qi, refining its energy into something else, which went a long way to explaining its life and quality of fruit.

As he reminisced over the past few days, a small noise alerted him to another person behind him. Turning his head he saw one of the older children, Phaedra Aegeus, a living symbol of how much he had missed in his abandonment of family, nearly full grown as a woman yet a grandchild of his sister.

"Who are you truly? Avia says that you are her brother, a brave and kind person such that it was a shame that you died when you did, yet Mater told us that you a coward by any other name and ran away from home. Which story is true?" Her voice although on the surface steady, almost brusque had undertones of uncertainty mixed with hope.

Morgraine's smile withered immediately at being confronted by the true cost of his actions once more.

Turning away from Phaedra and towards the shimmering mountains basking in the sunlight, letting his head fall downward, towards the tombstone that bore the name that he had been given by his parents at birth.

"You ask an impossible question. I was once Alastair Aegeus, but am I truly able to claim that I still am? When I look back over the decades of life I have lived under my assumed name, I have to question if I even remember what I used to be like."

Letting out a sigh as he continued in a somber tone, "In a way I envy you and all of your family, countless stories are told of the wonders of cultivation, yet those very same stories never capture the truly human cost inherent in our power.

Morgraine takes a breath as his speech pauses for a moment as he looks up from the tomb, towards the mountains with an air of melancholy forming around him as he began to speak in a tone devoid of life.

"Am I Alastair Aegeus, is a question with no true answer. By blood and birth I am, but the name is a human name, am I truly worthy of bearing such a name now? My body is less human than most, I am held together not by sinew, but instead mostly due to the complex nine fold weaving of my spiritual energy forever supporting my physical body atop a form that can handle the energy of my spirit." Morgraine fell silent seemingly losing energy as he almost slumped against the trunk of the mighty tree.

"Well, you are definitely fitting Avia's stories better than Mater's. In the end its your choice is it not? In fact, Avia was the one that forced you into meeting us and the rest of your family a few days ago correct? It seems to me that you are forging a problem where none exist, if you want to take the name back, just do and stop your whining." Snapped Phaedra as she turned on a heel and stomped away without a care in the world.

As she left she was unable to see the mask of confusion settle upon Morgraines face, as his improved mind sought to understand just what she had said. Convictions decades old warred with logic, for even though she had spoken only a little, the value outweighed the amount. Letting his eyes close for the first time this morning, Morgraine simply meditated upon the meaning of her statements and the implications thereof. Time slowly passed as entire worlds were envisioned and examined in minute detail, all for the sake of seeing past his preconceptions. Just as the first ray of light reached his face, his right fist that had been resting for hours upon the cold stone of the tombstone bearing his name, clenched into a fist as realization was achieved.

Energy blazing with nine distinct colors blazed into existence for a short moment around his body, and the cold stone beneath his fingers shattered with a thunderous crack as energy enough to fight another peak Qi condensation cultivator was expended all at once for the singular purpose of destroying a fragile piece of carved limestone.

As the shards of superheated stone rained down to earth Morgraine smiled for the last time as Alastair Aegeus shed the name under which he had hidden from the world for so long. Where reuniting with family had given back life to him, taking back his true name and identity provided stability, for no longer was he without relatives and even if generations separated them and divided by power, those that were his family could trust him to aid them when possible, and he would work to rebuild the relationship that he had thrown away decades ago. Ironic that imminent death was what was needed to push me past my own fears and issues, yet there is still time to rejoin my family in truth before I am called to battle. Alastair mused to himself as he meandered back to the farm house readying to take upon the ancient chores of any farm once more, content to live as a human once more.

---------
a rather short omake about Morgraine growing as a person and reconnecting with his family

 

[Leon12431]

Ruin and destruction cast an unnatural pall over the world, the sky chocked with smoke and vapors of less pleasant origin, tortured colleagues trapped in eternal pain, countless bodies crushed to little more than paste covered the ground.

Yet, he remained strong, untouched in body and mind beyond the simple horror of the world at the moment. So many, individuals of grand power and intent lay broken by the greatest battle fought in their lives and yet he, the broken one, suffered not a scratch.

Was this yet another curse of the heavens? To ignore him and take those more worthy of the clan's efforts to ascend? As he walked though the burning city tending to those that he could, and giving peace to the few too injured for even the greatest healers to heal, where he could, a wellspring of grief and guilt surged within. For his recent reconnection with family and home, healed much and yet left new areas for battles to scar once more.

Sights that he would have accepted as his due only a few short months ago, now shone with all their horror. Being human only let the heavens harm him ever more, but even knowing that he should have taken the place of so many and suffered for them, he could not reject his own humanity so soon after its recovery. He had spent decades as a person fleeing from his own humanity, and found it unpleasant now that he had turned to face the truth.

Even as he walked he could feel his strength returning from the effort of repelling so many divergent Daos, even if they were only of the lowest realm. Perhaps, the elder that had given him this art, had not taught it properly or perhaps in the rush, he had misused it but he had gleamed knowledge of those that he had faced. Fragments of shards of slivers of knowledge but knowledge none the less, and that knowledge provided him with some measure of bitter happiness.

Where every single person within the clan that clawed their way up the ranks, were forced to master themselves and struggle for every step, the invaders were victims of their own power. Their daos were fragile compared to those of the clan within his realm, riddled with uncertainty and questions that made it easy to exploit, where he doubted that he could shake even five clan Daos, the invaders posed little challenge beyond weight of numbers. Their Seas grand energy, allowed even the unskilled and untalented to match the best that the clan had to offer, yet this left them vulnerable to his nearly gleamed art.

Yet, no matter how far he wandered from the site of their so called miracle, he could never escape the never ending destruction and senseless death that was their mark. Long since had time stopped to have any meaning to him as he walked trying to avoid the memories and experiences at the city, and their proclamation as unrivaled beneath heaven, such foolish nonsense. He understood the need of the clan to claim some form of victory in this time, yet to enforce such an unrealistic title upon a group merely thirteen large was folly of the highest order.

Already, he could envision assassins from other clans and sects seeking their heads and bodies for their own purposes. The enemies of the clan would focus their efforts upon the elimination of the bringers of the morale victory that the clan so desperately needed during the events of this trial, especially if the rumors were true.

Thus, he wandered the land doing what he could to aid the scattered clan members lost in the endless expanse of desert, or trapped within collapsing bolt holes. Yet for everyone save, a hundred died their bodies littering the ground, bones crunching under his feet more often than not as he walked the lands.

Blood had soaked the land, and in areas of high energy he could feel the energy altering as the potent blood of both third sea and fifth watered it with energy. Letting his energy flow outward, he slowly brought the energy tainting the land to him, allowing it to slowly disperse back into the empty air.

However, no matter how much he removed there was always more to withdraw from the land and no one in his realm could handle such effort on their own, and so with a sigh he released the effort and returned to his wandering across the land.

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not my best work, short and meandering, but didn't have anything better.

 

[Rockeye]

Nicovas Ceruleus

Priority: Diligently cultivating, using bureaucracy and organization to secure favors and resources in order to cultivate even more.

@occipitallobe

The son of a mortal bureaucrat in the sect's core territories, Nicovas Ceruleus is stereo-typically diligent and detail-oriented, finding solace in efficient courts, well stocked libraries, and correctly-filled-out forms. His parents are unremarkable, he holds no great bloodlines or treasures. Indeed, his background has very little worth remarking upon - His only advantages are a modest natural talent and an exceptionally even-headed and diligent personality.

Perhaps as a result of his upbringing, Nicovas believes the bureaucracy is a system and a tool. That one proficient in its use can achieve notable deeds even as a mortal. At the age of fifteen, he grew incensed by the corruption and depravity of the mortal king who ruled his minor city. He assembled a watertight legal case that the king should be punished, as well as a plan for the continued governance of the area without the corrupt lord, using existing organizations instead. After tallying the profits lost to corruption and waste, he boldly presented it to a 2nd Heavenstage junior who was passing through the city on her return to the clan home. He was quite surprised when his plan was implemented - and even more surprised when it turned out he had an unsuspected talent for cultivation.

Once inducted into the clan, he was extremely diligent and deferential to his seniors. His personality is nearly ideal for performing the Kataphraktoi and Hoplite formations, calm diligence being kin to discipline. He soon began researching cultivation methods with the same fervor he applied to his plan for his city. He is one of the relatively rare cultivators who take well to the clan bureaucracy, absorbing accumulated custom and law and tradition in the clan's organization and practices just as he absorbs qi from spirit stones. He quickly learned to use the bureaucracy to his advantage, performing the least-favorite tasks of his betters or navigating confusing systems of libraries and forms and assignments in exchange for small considerations here and there.

What better friend for a fellow cultivator to have than the one who knows exactly how to secure the best assignments with no fuss? Only a small favor is expected in return, such as access to a particular site or a single pill. Surely it is no trouble for a mortal merchant whose fortune is made from a word of insight and a correctly stamped and filed form to set aside some small portion of his profits for Nicovas. And mortal kings are perfectly happy to part with treasures they no longer particularly need if the Warrior of Paperwork swoops forth and saves his domain from an administrative disaster in the making. He must build his networks himself, lacking an established cultivator family, but when gathered all together, gold becomes spirit stones. A small thing, but a good use of time.

Nicovas generally takes on only low-risk assignments, which is perhaps a fault of his, but does not care whether an assignment is glorious or boring. No better junior than Nicovas can be found for an inglorious task that must be done to exacting precision, such as inspection of formations for defects, or auditing mortal kingdoms for corruption and competence. Indeed, he takes particular pleasure in removing incompetent or corrupt mortal rulers. It is perhaps his biggest vice, the castigation of those he considers wrong, the feeling of power over all those who once considered him an irritating pest at best.

The looming specter of Trials feels unfair to Nicovas. Heaven is truly cruel, for mortals are cast down like wheat before scythes, and even cultivators face death at every turn. What can he do to avoid it, except be calm and organized and diligent? He is too young in his path to seek specialization. Instead, he must make the best use of the resources available. Nicovas is, to naive eyes, greedy. Everything he does is to acquire more spirit stones without undue risk to himself. And those he does manage are consumed as soon as they can be used well. Pills, incenses, special sites, pre-prepared cultivation-boosting formations, careful scheduling, coolly clinical and self-incisive analysis of past performance, tolerance for long sessions and pill side-affects and pain.

He must advance. Not so quickly as to cripple his future cultivation, he's not that foolish, but the sooner he reaches the 2nd, 3rd, 4th stages, the sooner he can acquire more contacts and resources and ability. It's an investment. And he is patient. Investments take time to pay off. Should the Trials or Fate strike him down? Well, investments are risks as well.

Cool Bonus: Shining Card Catalog of the Mind. Nicovas cultivates a mental library where all information he takes the time to record is indelibly stored, indexed, and cross-referenced.

 

[Rockeye]

Nicovas Ceruleus omake 1 @occipitallobe​

Nicovas Ceruleus stemmed the bleeding from his leg and tried to calm down by meditating in his mind-palace. He considered three reports all saying conflicting things about the fate of a train of Heart-Bronzewood timbers meant to supply repairs on a fortress in the south, and he thought, war logistics are a Heaven-cursed mess. Perhaps literally.

He had two very good reasons for making himself indispensable to the organization of supplies for the clan's war. First, he was fairly good at it and found it soothing to make order out of chaos. Second, if he is crucial to the supply effort he cannot be afforded the chance to die in the formations on the front lines.

He had overlooked the fact that logistics and support personnel are targets just as much as frontline fighters. He has no delusions that they were targeting him specifically - rather, they were simply plunging deep into the Clan's territory to cause what harm they could, and he was Heaven-disfavored enough to be part of the target area. Causing confusion to your enemies is perhaps even more valuable than spilling their blood, and the damned bee-riders were alarmingly mobile. Perhaps he would have been better served by finding a place in the Golden Eye Array support staff, or along the Scorpion Road in the north. Ah well, such is hindsight.

While travelling to another city, the small convoy was too unprepared. They were in a 'safe' area, and lax for it. The opening moves of the battle were a blur, but Nicovas ended up in the sand separated from the rest of the convoy, somehow overlooked for long enough to conceal himself. Eventually, the convoy drove off the Devil Bee Riders, leaving only two corpses behind as they fled at speed. Nicovas, however, was still hiding as the enemy began... Processing... The bodies.

He is aware of the value of intelligence on the enemy. So despite the fact that it exposes him further to the Panic-Inducing Devil Scream one of the bee-riding cultivators was singing, to flush out any hidinghe carefully focused on his Bronzed Ears of the Desert Fox, to listen in.

"-What a waste of time. All that searching for just two corpses! After the split, my mount consumes more blood than we got in a single day."

"Shut up about it already. Do you want to annoy the Wax Prison Butcher?"

You know that name. He is a Core Formation member of the Devil Bee Sect noted for her unusual wax-based techniques.

"He knows he sent us on a harassing strike-"

Nicovas cut off the technique as they glanced in his direction. Any active sensory techniques could easily reveal him. This was one of the major drawbacks of his current concealment. For now, he had to stay where his Deep-Burrowing Desert Mole technique has hidden him. It would be alright. He was prepared. His own measly cultivation efforts so far could be hidden with a paltry treasure indefinitely, and he had food and water in his pack. The rising tension of not knowing if the Devil Bee Riders would find him and slay him where he lies in the sand like a cowardly worm could be... Ignored. His mind-palace let him ponder how he got here instead.

Four days ago, a wounded courier reported seeing the convoy ruined and shattered on his journey home, with nothing salvageable and all the corpses consumed, before falling into a coma from his wounds and exhaustion. Three days ago a message came in, carried by Astral Echoes Technique, that reported the same convoy under attack by a superior force of Devil Bee Riders. They were presumed dead - outside of a fortress, small groups must rely on going unseen. But just two days ago, the fortress the convoy was destined to reported their thanks for the successful delivery.

Listen.

"-Killed a 4th heavenstage bronze idiot last week, but the rest got away!"

"They die for each other and the clan."

"Fools. That's not the path to power."

"Death bonuses to their families, it makes-"

Hide.

Destroyed, under attack, or successful? Was it some kind of trick or mistake - what other convoys were going out at the time that may have been mistaken? His information is... Reasonably comprehensive, but nobody knows every aspect of a war and the chaos and confusion are ever-churning. Perhaps all three could be true.

There were a few other couriers he knew that knew how to use Astral Echoes, and it was not impossible that the message was faked by a skilled Devil Bee cultivator. It wasn't foolproof, being a fairly easy technique optimized for long-distance and strong signal rather than security. So the second report couldn't be trusted.

Listen.

"-The Wax Prison for a while. It was torture, their very souls being slowly consumed from the inside out without any loss. What a wonderful and inspiring sight! So efficient!"

"Let's just get back and hope our failure doesn't land us in that prison, Xanmei."

Hide.

That left two options: The convoy was destroyed and the courier was correct, meaning the fortress mistook another delivery for Heart-Bronzewood. Or the convoy arrived on schedule, and the destroyed convoy the courier reported by the courier was something else- A hallucination, or a different convoy, perhaps one of the one whose fate was unknown.

Or neither. War is confusing and messy. But Nicovas tentatively concludes that the courier was hallucinating or mistaken, and the convoy whose fate he was sent to ascertain was safe after all.

Listen.

"They're all gone and I'm done eating. Let's get out of here."

"Right. Lui, while we're along... I know you're an information broker..."

"Here is not exactly the place to negotiate."

"It's hidden from the others, there's nobody here. Same deal as last time. Have you seen the Blood-Engorged Queen Bee the Wax Prison Butcher was taming lately? I heard he grew furious and killed it in a fit of rage, then the rest of the hive ate it, so he didn't even get anything out of it."

"-Uh, he's favoring his right arm since last week. Perhaps there's something to that. Who can we sell this information to?"

Hide. Ponder this new information.

Carefully considering all available information and thinking about the caravan's fate had distracted him from the Panic-Inducing Devil Scream the Devil Bee Riders were using to flush out any hiding cultivators. Like him. It was a scream that slowly escalated in whoever heard it, eventually driving them to panic and flee, abandoning their hiding spots and becoming easy prey. The correct response to it was to stay in place. Unless they were holding you in place until a stronger force could arrive... But no, they are relaxed. They're mopping up. Sone, they leave.

Nicovas spends several more hours in his Desert Mole Burrow, thinking about the implications of knowing of a Core Formation enemy's weakness. He judges his odds by carefully reviewing all the Spirit Beasts known to inhabit the area, and the likelihood that the two hunters were deceiving him somehow.

...He will leave at night. It will be a risk. But he has vital intelligence: The identity of the Core Formation cultivator these raiders report to, and what he is fairly sure was an actual weakness revealed by careless juniors (reminder: don't be careless) and not a ruse intended to deceive, since they had given up the search for you before mentioning it. The spirit beasts and dangers of the terrain are predictable enemies, long since memorized. The Devil Bee cultivators are not.

He has to pick his way across a growth of Explosive Thorn Cacti painstakingly slowly, so as not to trigger them. He must rack his brain for what he knows of scorpion habits and growth and weaknesses to judge whether a wounded scorpion eating another of its kind is a fight he can win. He is forced to endure running out of water and having nothing to drink for two days - a paltry challenge for one in the 5th heavenstage, perhaps, but he is still in his 2nd!

Four days later, having navigated dangerous terrain and defeated or fled from many powerful desert beasts and even harvested a Dessication-Sucking Scorpion's stinger in the process, Nicovas Ceruleus arrived back where he had set out from under cover of a sandstorm, his leg wound festering from the inadequate self-treatment, and made his report.

 

[Kaboomatic]

Right
Here's my idea for a 'good seed':

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Spoiler: Image

The Fifth Turtle Sea is a place where clans are the be all and end all, where the Cultivator Dynasties are just that, dynasties. The ruling families of said dynasties are nearly all bitter rivals, and the entire sea is a low level warzone. One such family, the Naag, known for their powerful links, connections to serpents, and kind nature, was recently wiped out, the culmination of centuries and millennia of grudges. Their Patriarch was killed, their cultivators decimated, and the lone few that survived were exiled via a forbidden art, one that sent them some place unknown.

That place was the Third Turtle Sea. The survivors, a few thousand mortals, protected by the Ninth Prince of the Naag, who had regressed to the third heavenstage of Qi Condensation and was returned to the age of 16 years old via the same forbidden art that sent him to the Third Sea, and his contracted beasts, were left adrift in a foreign world, with no allies, no idea where they were, and a dark skin tone that immediately marked them as 'other'. Luckily, the Prince and his mortals were happened upon by the Flood Dragon Gang, a band of Wandering Cultivators who made a point of protecting the weak. And right now, the Ninth Prince certainly deserved that title.

Over the course of a year, the Ninth Prince won the trust of the Flood Dragon Gang through placing his life at risk multiple times to save both his fellow cultivators as well as mortals, until eventually, they sent him off to their allies, the Legions, realizing that the Prince was in no way suited for such a nomadic lifestyle, and reasoning that, as both the Prince and the Legions were obviously foreign to the Third Sea, they'd get along.

With the sponsorship of the Flood Dragon Gang, the Ninth Prince was warily admitted into the Legions' organizational structure, where he proved himself by nearly dying to save quite a few of his peers, which gave him access to the treatment of an actual legion clan member, instead of just a regular vassal qi condensation cultivator.

The Ninth Prince, whose real name is Anush Naag, is a beast tamer, contracting with three beasts, all of them snakes. The first is an enormous Boa Constrictor with scales as hard as a mortal metal. The second is a three-headed Spitting Cobra, all three heads being able to spit venom a distance of ten or so feet. The third is a King Cobra with the ability to command mortal snakes. In addition, the Ninth Prince has access to the Orb of Shesha, an indestructible pearl like treasure that grants Naag Royal Family members access to a subset of the Naag Techniques, with the Ninth Prince's Orb containing the entirety of his clan's techniques and notes on beast taming, their main heritage. The final gift the Ninth Prince has is a bloodline of similar potency to the Legion bloodline, allowing him to cultivate faster than normal, while also causing his pupils to look like those of snakes, and small patches of scales to grow on his body. The Ninth Prince has also been cursed, the Curse of Regression and Exile exiling him from the Fifth Sea, reducing him to Qi Condensation, rewinding his biological age to 16, and increasing the difficulty of ascending Great Realms.

The Dao the Ninth Prince follows is not some Dao of Serpents as one might think, but instead the Dao of Protection. There are those who are weak. Those who are untalented. Those who will never amount to anything in the grand scheme of things. These are the people that the cultivation world loves to trample on, seeing them as weak fools who are nothing but plaything to those stronger than them. This simple fact of life, the Ninth Prince denies. The weak deserve not exploitation, but protection, not because one day the weak will give rise to the strong, but because all beneath the sun and stars deserve peace and happiness. If they are not able to provide peace and happiness for themselves, their superiors will do so for them, for the duty of the strong is, has always been, and always will be, to protect the weak.

Personality wise, the Ninth Prince is cold, aloof, and generally thinks himself superior to most people, a holdover from his time as a prince of an enormous clan. This arrogance however, belies an absurdly strong protective instinct, as the Ninth Prince believes strongly in the concept of noblesse oblige, seeing nearly everyone at or below his level of power as his responsibility to protect, as well as implicitly trusting that those stronger than him in the clan hierarchy will do the same for him. If one manages to get past his arrogance, cold demeanor, and general sense of superiority, they will never find a more steadfast ally than the Ninth Prince of the Naag.

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Right. That's my good seed. I actually have to thank Alectai for giving me this opportunity, since him bringing Xianxia Romans into this quest gave me the idea to bring Xianxia Indians into this quest.

The snake bloodline as well as the curse of regression and exile was meant to put the Ninth Prince on the same rest of the clan, with the Orb being his actual treasure/cheat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Current Status as of Turn 2: 36 Years Old, Ninth Heavenstage Qi Gathering Cultivator
Starting Perk: Orb of Shesha: an indestructible, shock absorbing orb embedded in the Ninth Prince's forehead that contains the Naag clan's entire repository of thing relating to Beast Taming.
Turn One Fate: Core Formation Ruse Cruise: Due to bravado, bullshit, and some minor illusionary properties of the Orb of Shesha, the Ninth Prince managed to trick a Core Formation Battle Blood Cannibal Sect cultivator into thinking he was possessed by a powerful snake whose combat strength was at Nascent Soul level. The Core Formation cultivator fled by using up a lifesaving treasure, and the Ninth Prince was rewarded with a small town next to a Qi Gathering Spirit Snake Pit.

Important Info: The Ninth Prince is going to be attempting to reach the 10th/11th/12th/13th/as many heavenstages as possible.
The Ninth Prince is going to enter the Qigui secret realm on turn 4

Completed Omake:
Facades and Reality, Part One: (2,766 words, the preparation phase of a mission to exterminate three Qi gathering raiders - Cultivation Boost [for Turn 2, since I didn't put down a reward before turn 1 was over])
Facades and Reality, Part Two: (3,446 words, the second phase of the mission detailed in part one, in which the Ninth Prince tricks a Core Formation cultivator into fleeing from a city they were attacking - Cool thing: The rendered parts of Flying Poison Dagger's dagger, specifically an incredibly hard metal, a tripartite poison containing the energy of fire, ice, and thunder, and a gem that increases mental capacity, each of which is used to increase the strength of a separate beast.)