TURN 12, OMAKE 3 [
Auspicious Nine]
Auspicious Nine 6: The Pursuit of Progress
The world blurred as he run, feet pumping against the sand of the dunes. Beneath the soulsteel mask covering his visage, his eyes scanned the land around him, looking for refuge, a place to hide or at least catch his breath. An odd hum hovered at the edge of hearing but there was no obvious source and his search was unfruitful. All around him was an relieved expanse of sand rising and falling in the waves of dunes. How long he raced he could not tell. His flight seemed endless, a journey across infinite distance and eternal time. He blinked and stopped. The pursuit he was fleeing had overtaken him, appearing in his path and leaving him no way further. Spinning about, he discovered himself surrounded, hunters manifesting like apparitions all around him from the darkness. Tanned dark-skinned faces flashed smiles of ivory as they stalked closer, drawing tight the snare about him.
He felt terror rise in him, familiar yet strangely distant when the laughing began, so similar to that of hyenas. His thoughts raced, trying to devise a means of escape, analyzing the peril he found himself in. At his side, he noticed an unfamiliar weight and saw a saber sheathed there. Confused he drew the blade and lifted it up in front of him, staring at its plain surface. Looking at the steel of the weapon, he saw his face reflected in the reflective surface there, green eyes staring through the eyeholes in an otherwise blank mask shadowed by the brim of a wide hat. The moment of reflection hang frozen no time and all time and then shattered as awareness kindled.
Auspicious Nine sheathed the sword and closed his eyes, ignoring the leaping hunters. He clasped both hands together in a simple mudra, thumbs and forefingers pointing up, the rest of his fingers interlaced. He focused on the words echoing in the background, lingering just below the level of awareness and called them out, "OM AH NU TA RA! OM AH NU TA RA! OM AH NU TA RA!" The subtle noise he'd been hearing unceasingly rose into a mighty roar that burrowed deep within his body, shaking his bones and sending the very ground into upheaval.
The words acted as a bridge binding Nine back to his body, a thread that he followed until he came into full awareness and control of his qi. With his spiritual energies in hand, he opened his eyes and looked around at the nightmare he'd been experiencing. He was still in the position he'd last been before he closed his eyes only this time he was no longer the subject but master. Alright, not exactly master yet, he acknowledged as the sutra strained at the limits of his control. Holding the dream phantoms frozen in mid air with his will was not quite an effortless task.
Nine's thoughts drifted to the gaping hole that was his wallet at present, his dream warping with his wavering focus to produce a slow shower of gold purses, drifting hazily down a frozen landscape. The Dream Chasing Nightmare Bridling Sutra had been an expensive purchase from the Clan's Technique Archives, nearly wiping out what savings he had left after embarking on a course of learning the use of the Saber. It was however an expense he did not regret because the opportunities it afforded him were simply fascinating.
"This is an opportunity to unfetter the mind and let genius reign supreme, not prance about in daydreams." He muttered as he bore down on his wandering imagination, his aim here was control not reckless manifestation. Nine found that his goal was easier said than done especially when his efforts were undermined by his own excitement. In his training with the almost dead legate the Ninth Prince, Nine had spent what had appeared to him to be several hours in a dreamscape practicing swordsmanship. Cross checking timepieces upon his awakening and practicing the drills that he'd learned showed that there had been a difference of nearly 10 to 1 in the subjective experience of time and to boot, he'd successfully cultivated in that period advancing all the way to the Great Circle of Qi Condensation. The potential inherent to such an experience had immediately seized upon Nine. He could cultivate while working on his research. He could even visit his siblings and Athena without having to strangle the nuisance, Four, from all his constant interruptions. So much possibility had called to his inquisitive mind and he'd dove head first into replicating the experience.
The shower of golden ephemera ceased with a distressing concentration of effort. Tracing the link back to his body which was seated cross-legged atop his bed in his quarters, Nine checked on his qi reserves and winced. Use of the Sutra was consuming qi from his dantian at a ridiculous pace that would leave him empty in short order, mere minutes at best. His physical condition was itself not looking too good. There was an unpleasant warmth around his head, radiating from his crown chakra where he was channeling all that qi to create the effect of lucid dreaming from the Sutra.
"You'd think the Golden Devil Clan would appreciate the virtues of the intellect over brawn, but no, the Clan archives are stuffed with all manner of means for killing idiots and barely a single process in sight for elevating intellectual ability." He complained as he wrestled with the unwieldy technique. The Dream Chasing Nightmare Bridling Sutra was a difficult qi manipulation to employ, requiring reserves of energy feasible only for those at the peak of the first great realm, equally matched skill in weaving that energy into useful manifestation and an uncommon expertise in biology to produce a frustratingly brief dreamscape that was vulnerable to subconscious alteration and external interruption. It said a lot about the Clan's focus that this unruly beast of a technique was the safest affordable option for a cultivator as able as Auspicious Nine.
The Delphi Family boasted the most comprehensive set of mind enhancement techniques and they were not sharing for any price. Other influences had their own treasured legacies they kept close to the chest with ruinous conditions for access to outsiders. The less secured alternatives were either very questionable in efficacy - falling comatose for a week was simply not suitable - , safety - lots of reports of cooked brains, no thank you - or suitability - no, he didn't have a Dao pillar or an inborn physique with a helpful affinity. The Sutra itself was a prize seized from the Shanqu Clan during the Golden Devil's push into the Organ Meat Desert and as such had no inherent affinity with the Blood of Bronze.
It was hard tiring work to use the damned thing, but Progress demanded much from its adherents, so slowly painfully, Auspicious Nine had wrangled the Sutra into a semblance of functionality and finally managed a decent activation out of it. Which was going to vanish like smoke before his eyes if he didn't get the efficiency of this thing up now. The chanting of words filled his quarters as his body and mind mirrored one another, adjusting and correcting the manifestation of the technique until Nine judged that he'd reached the best output he'd get for now.
Retreating from the waking world, he finally had the luxury of time to truly explore the dreamscape generated by the use of the sutra. He bent down and picked up a handful of dirt. It felt like ordinary sand and, licking his finger, tasted like sand. Interestingly, while the texture remained consistent the taste shifted as he tried to parse its nuance. Rubbing his gums, he picked up the distinct gritty flavor of the training grounds at the Dawn Fortress, the dry tartness of the earth around Pleuron where he'd been birthed and the iron aftertaste a small hill a few leagues away from Pleuron. That last distinct sensation sparked a connection that made him look again at the frozen figures hanging like models in the desert. Slowly he walked around and about the stopped circle of hunters, examining their features. It was an artifact of the realm he currently was in that the features of those present were indistinct. Humanoid yes, armed most definitely but specifics could not be pinned down. Certain details stood out though: wide grins and dark skin. That and the setting placed this scene in his memory.
This was the climax of his first ever Hundred-Year Trials. Athena Pleuron had been unable to restrain him from joining the Legions on the eve of that centennial winnowing and his Aspirant Induction had been a hurried frantic exercise. Frustrating that had been, he grumbled in remembrance kicking at dream sand, he'd not been able to truly undertake the research and study he'd set out to accomplish. Every hour had been a desperate march by the instructors to get them ready for the hunters of the Fifth Sea. Looking back now, he chuckled at the folly of his naivety in thinking then that he could perhaps be inspired by confrontation with the foreign cultivators and from thence advance in the quest for enlightenment.
"Progress will not be stopped," He whispered, "But the torchbearers of progress can be cast aside from the path and trodden into the grave by unthinking brutes." He hadn't feared for his life approaching the trials but watching legionnaires fall before the trial hunters had stirred unpleasant feelings within him. He'd come to know many of those unfortunate fools during induction and afterwards: loudmouthed Aeneas cut in half covering the retreat from a waycastle, shy Amila decapitated trying to flee a hunting band, blockheaded Toras sacrificing himself to take out an entrenched position and so many more. Their last moments faded into view before him, rendered into statues of their final moments as best as his memory could recall. Scent memory proved formidable, sharpening his recall of their corpses. The cooked smell of Toras with metallic hints from his self-immolation. The coppery tang of Amila's blood as her severed arteries sprayed him and the rest of their squad. More memories came into focus and the sands of his dream were soon a diorama of the casualties of the Hundred-Year Trials. Remarkable how one memory sparked off another until details he'd forgotten came flooding back.
The Clan might have counted those trials as the most favorable in living memory but that just meant they'd avoided a crippling loss, suffering only - what other Great Power could blithely say this - a painful loss. His eyes closed as he remembered that day standing before Athena Pleuron boldly declaring his dissatisfaction with the intellectual pursuits available to him at Waycastle Pleuron as it was. He'd been insistent on joining the Legions, seeing them as the surest path to expanding his mind through experience. If he had the opportunity he'd do it all again of course but now he understood the woman's frustration. Barely a few months old and there he was willingly walking into a meatgrinder that had chewed up and spat out more powerful cultivators. He hated the idea that luck had played a hand in his survival but to deny what was would be folly unbecoming of one who sought the Truth. Better to acknowledge bitter reality and then drag it kicking and screaming into the light of progress.
Looking up at the sphere of the moon, he lifted his arm up and beckoned. Obedient, the celestial observer drew near filling the night sky. He remembered running desperately, Fifth Sea cultivators behind him, pacing themselves not in any hurry to bring down "the interesting specimen". He might not have been birthed as humans were like the average member of the Golden Devil Clan but from his progenitor he'd inherited the Blood of Bronze and that was enough to make him a prize to those seeking a harvest of Heaven-sent karma. Before leaving Pleuron, he'd considered his siblings less favorably for their lack of curiosity about the world but in that pursuit he'd prayed that they were safe, too weak to be of notice to any predatory cultivator, even that irritant Four.
His flight had ended in ambush, the hunters behind arranging with others ahead to drive him and others fleeing their breached fortification into a single killing ground with other legionnaires from nearby forts. Together with those fellow legionnaires, he'd been forced to mount a desperate stand with the Hoplite, retreat by Kataphroktoi and Two-Headed Eagle proven futile in the bloody corpses of those less fortunate. Nine rubbed at his chest where the wounds he'd taken had been. Odd, he'd not been fully healed for decades now, suffering other serious injuries from different foes but that was the first true savaging his body had taken. His uncommon origin meant that the pain had been muted less crippling but still death had cast its shadow over him. But then something had drawn away the bulk of the hunters, salvation he'd only later discovered had come from his very own progenitor, Jin Muyi, challenging the gathered bands to a siege at Pleuron. The remaining cultivators had been distracted enough for those legionnaires remaining to break out, Nine himself borne away to safety by the tempest of the Racing Sandstorm Dervish amulet he'd managed to use.
Lifting himself up into the air with a thought, Auspicious Nine hovered in the sky looking down on the world below, seeing an unremarkable expanse of sun that stretched off into hazy distance and blurred shapes. He crossed his legs just like he'd seen Manuel Konstantinos do so many years at his induction. Except here he was both more powerful than even a Nascent Soul and weaker than a mortal ensconced in a trance as he was. "This technique makes one feel oddly introspective. The foundations of its construction certainly have their roots in the subconscious as evidence by the uncontrolled initiation." He noted. "A promising start although significant work will have to be done to control emotional bleedthrough. Logic and reason are the engines of progress, not emotion and whimsy. It appears this technique will be an excellent means of developing self-mastery."
The sky around him shimmered and shook before finally shattering like so much glass, revealing only utter oblivion beyond. The stream of qi he'd been funneling up towards his head petered out and his voice slurred in the middle of chanting the words of the sutra. "OM AH... AhNnu..."
Fatigue from qi exhaustion and the effort of keeping up the sutra slammed into him like a hammer and he fell backwards onto his bed, knocked clean into the realm of true sleep. Tonight he slept like a very good facsimile of a humanoid log, motionless and still, only the faint motions of his chest to indicate life.
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Late in the morning of the next day, the sun rose high enough above the horizon to overlook the heights of the Indomitable Peaks. In small unassuming quarters within the Dawn Fortress, sunlight intruded through the slats of shuttered windows. Illuminating beams drove away the darkness in one such residence, landing on an upturned face, eyes closed in slumber. Rough wooden skin colored dark brown streaked with bronze whorls, and chlorophyll green hair marked the sleeping figure, who was no longer so far off from the realm of the alert. Auspicious Nine groaned and turned on his side, clenching eyelids tighter shut to try to get away from the torment rousing him and retreat back to to the refuge of unconsciousness.
"Reminder, find way to quench the sun." He moaned out. Alas, no such solace was forthcoming immediately. The sound dampening arrays he'd set up in the room for his practice in dream manipulation had consumed the spirit stones powering them and fallen inactive. The noisy bustle of the population of the Dawn Fortress roused for the day prevented any retreat to sleep. Stumbling out from his bed, Nine clumsily groped at a nearby table set up for such mornings. His hands brushed the surface of the terrarium atop the table and the routine of daily practice had him lifting the top off, reaching down to grasp at its inhabitants and consuming the handful retrieved with lethargic chewing, without having to open his eyes. The familiar crunch of beetle carapace and the comforting taste of hemolymph soothed his aching head in the moments before his body quickly absorbed the meal and sent a rush of energy though his meridians and organs.
"Ahh... Just what the doctor ordered." He mumbled around his meal, finally opening his eyes. Perking up from the stimulation, he helped himself to a few more handfuls of the specially bred Fierce Yang Scorching Beetle. These were one of his more successful research products. Fast living and profligately reproducing spirit insects that had been domesticated to have their caustic emissions transformed into a quick acting stimulant that refreshed the mind and energized the body for a day's work after a long night of labor. They even had a minor use in minutely replenishing expended qi reserves, being awakened spirit beasts who could absorb and hold available spiritual energy from the air.
The Dawn Fortress was the perfect breeding ground for them, though they didn't fair so well outside in the thin qi of the rest of the Desert. Fatally toxic to mortals unfortunately and he'd not been able to sell his fellow legionnaires on their potential as yet. He was pursuing a tangential line of inquiry to determine if the hardiness of the Blood of Bronze didn't extend to such consumption or if it was a matter of taste producing psychosomatic reactions since the majority of complaints started there before reports of digestive upset. He didn't really understand that last objection, the insects were delicious. Oh well, he could hardly expect the average legionnaire to compare to his magnificent genius, could he?
Freshly roused and bright-eyed, Nine hurried over to his desk and pulled out a recording slip. Best to get the night's observations down while they were still fresh.
"Night 21 of employing use of Sutra. Successful activation and maintenance of qi channeling observed even while in sleeping trance. Active control was not immediate. Subject experienced a dissociative episode during initial trance. Episode consisted of an emotionally arousing memory of significant injury. Dissociation followed the usual markers of dream experiences: sudden spatial shifts, temporal ambiguity, inconsistent detailing of artifacts. Full awareness achieved by means of self perception: seeing subject's face rendered in trance. Subsequent activity in dreamscape proved very promising. Lucidity allowed alteration of dream environment and self within the experience. Full conscious control over dreamscape proved not yet achievable. Varied ephemera manifested from uncontrolled thought and memory. Sense impressions remarkably replicate close approximations of real phenomena, touch more so than texture. Cognitive time dilation experience during trance appears to correspond to a 3 to 1 ratio relative to Third Sea standard reckoning." He dictated into the jade slip held in his right hand.
Rising from his seat, he paced as he continued his report. "Qi consumption of technique still extraordinarily high. Current use allows roughly thirty to forty five minutes in trance. Significant amount of use time lost to dissociation though speed of reintegration has been noted to be improving. Practice has allowed subject to be more confident in manipulation of necessary qi interactions although the risk of injury is still significant. Main concern still remains possibility of brain damage by hyperthermia. Recent control experiments without external cooling mechanisms successfully completed to provide baseline data. Danger of aneurysm however now proven negligible. Regenerative properties and general resilience of activated elemental bloodline, Blood of Bronze, demonstrated sufficient to forestall significant brain bleed. No success in eliminating vocalization of mantra. Breaking dissociative state at present requires syncing conscious experience within trance to automatic expression of mantra by physical body. Subject observed that use of mudra was only required within trance while physical body could do otherwise without disrupting trance."
The stimulation form his morning pick-me-up had Nine jittery, sending his thoughts racing in conjecture. "Use of Sutra within recorded parameters for application. Significant insight has been made into subject's subconscious emotional activity. Lucid dream experience bears out potential for refining Willpower through revisiting trauma and excising poorly optimized emotive responses. Sutra's efficacy in tempering subject's Dao-Heart estimated at high. Predict serious acceleration in timeline of the formation of necessary foundation for first Dao Pillar. Possibility of advancing to second great realm within next two decades deemed significant."
"Current assessment of using dreamscape to facilitate research efforts still ongoing. Fidelity of recalled information still in question. Memory appears reconstructed not reproduced. Confirmed temporal dilation still promising for theoretical advancements. No success in using trance to cultivate. Instantiation and maintenance of trance incompatible with cultivation practice. Utility of trance in developing martial intent still in early assessment." It was disappointing not being able to replicate the rapid advancement of the crypts but it had been a long shot to pursue anyway. Several significant variables had been absent and the means of creating the trance was wholly different."
"Suggest use of cooling blanket to improve thermal regulation in subsequent use. Compare results to immersion in tub..." On and on, Auspicious Nine chattered, filling his room with his thoughts. Eventually, he exhausted what insights he'd derived from the nights experiments. Returning to his desk, he marked the time and date of the recording and set it aside for review later.
Pausing at his desk, he scowled as the sounds of boisterous singing drifted in from outside. Stomping over to the window, he flung open the shutters and poked his head out, looking to the residence to his east. "Oi, you howling baboon, Huang Gu! Keep it down, you fool! Some people are trying to accomplish worthwhile research and should not be disturbed by the local idiot!" He shouted at his aggravating ape of a neighbor whose regular morning cacophony had been a persistent plague since he'd moved in.
The singing continued unabated. In fact, the volume of the demented caterwauling increased as though to challenge his entreaty. Incensed, he leaned further out, almost falling from the window, to express his well founded scorn. "You misbegotten offspring of an ass, cease this nonsense immediately! Your wretched voice is not even suitable company for the dead! They'd kill themselves again just to escape a voice as yours! Desist at once lest I come over and strangle you myself!"
Impressively, Huang Gu managed to find untapped reserves of vocal capacity and lifted his cursed serenade even higher. Two doors down the lane of houses from Nine's quarters, just beyond Huang Gu's residence, a head crowned with a flaming mane of hair appeared in window, looking westward. Shaking her hand in fury, Ari Kalis roared into the street. "Will you two idiots shut it?! How many times is it this week?! People have better things to do than listen to your arguing!"
Directly across Ari's home, another window opened to add more fuel to the fire. "Oh be quiet yourself, Ari!" Galene Essene complained loudly. "Your cawing isn't helping any, you thieving crow!"
Finding a fresh target for her ire, Ari held nothing back. "Who are you calling a thieving crow, you jumped up harpy?! Come meet me out on the practice field and I'll show you who's what!"
Galene flushed a deep red, a remarkable feat for her brazen complexion. "I know you're a filthy thief because you stole my pies from my window." She shot back. Sticking her head out, she called to her neighbor. "Mykia saw you do it, you harridan! Mykia, tell her so!"
During this interlocution, the original spat had been persisting between Auspicious Nine and Huang Gu. As though the invitation from Galene had been a straw too many that broke the camel's back, residents along and across the lane appeared in their windows and doors to express their displeasure at being the audience to such disturbance and add on some more discourteous commentary about their other neighbors. Soon the entirety of the street was a confusion of shouting voices, creating an inchoate hubbub.
Auspicious Nine was gathering breath to reply Huang Gu who had stopped singing to express unfavorable remarks about Nine's diet including references to the inclusion of fecal matter when the air in his lungs seized from the oppressive intent that slammed down across the breadth the street. The sudden silence about him proved that he wasn't alone in the struggle to breathe. A quiet voice carrying the weight of years and laden with authority carried clearly into every home, projected by qi from the furthest end of the street.
"This elder thought that he'd find quiet respite and ready contemplation, residing among some of the most accomplished legionnaires of the venerable Golden Devil clan. Surely such dedicated cultivators standing at the peak of Qi Condensation should be exemplars of decorum, maturity and discipline for are these not the traits that define the famed legions of the best army of the Virtuous Flipper Region? Alas, it appears that this is not the case." The voice hardened and menace suffused the air. If the intent before had been oppressive, this aura now was manifest killing intent. Auspicious Nine felt the specter of death behind him, bearing a blade of inexorable inescapable death. As a rule, he didn't sweat match due to his inhuman physiology but now beads of sweat covered his skin and he was sure that if he could have goosebumps every hair would be on end.
"This lowly one is called Hitokiri Battousai, guest elder of the Flood Dragon Gang." As he introduced himself, the voice turned kindly like that of a venerable mortal villager only the cloying deathly atmosphere that still hovered about putting the lie to that impression. "I, your grandfather, shall be sure to make myself available to provide suitable training in manners befitting such personages as yourselves. Please, rest assured, you need only rouse my attention from my meditation and I shall readily answer your call. Does anyone have any problem with such this arrangement, eh?"
Utter silence was the only reply.
"Good, good, such promising juniors to seek instruction so eagerly. I will not take up too much more of your day then." The domineering sense of threat vanished suddenly, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared and leaving not the slightest trace. Auspicious Nine rubbed the nape of his neck, almost surprised when he found unbroken skin. That conviction, the intent expressed was so real that he could have sworn he felt the kiss of a razor's edge against his neck. It had felt more real than even the wounds he still bore from the encounter with the Foundation stage boar.
He jumped in surprise when the air echoed again.
"Ahhh, this old man forgot to say this. Age does dull the mind so." The voice of Hitokiri Battousai almost seemed rueful. "Young man, while your singing is certainly... energetic, perhaps you would be better served by seeking refinement in your mastery before repeating such a public performance. Unfortunately, this one's ears have been spoiled by other more familiar and more favorably compared singing. With enough dedication and training, surely you will one day rise to surpass the sangjian Pu shang zhi yin."
Auspicious Nine chortled and covered his mouth with his hands to prevent himself from breaking out into laughter at the last comment. Take that you pompous fool, Huang Gu, he thought. There is such a thing as taste after all. He marked it down in his calendar to pay a visit - politely! - to the elder. The Flood Dragons were regrouping and rebuilding after their disastrous contribution on the Great Battlefield, the lingering vitality of the righteous bandits arriving in drips and drabs in Golden Devil territory over the decades since in answer to the call of Yao Zhihao who had taken refuge with the allied Clan. The aura of the elder spoke to a well tempered combatant and if the intent was any indication, one who practiced the sword. Instruction from such an experienced swordsman would be invaluable in mastering the saber. Besides, entering the good graces of an elder would likely help him source some of his more unique preparations. He had a bold goal after all in overcoming his opponent, a rematch he intended to soundly win and make a name for himself.
Chuckling quietly under his breath as he imagined the pains Huang Gu was undoubtedly experiencing right now, he hurried to perform his morning ablutions, though not before making sure that his beetles were fed with an ample supply of lowly spirit herbs - research must be maintained! - and the feng shui alignments of the terrarium were in optimal position. Personal grooming was a quick affair, no new knots to grind down or branch growth to prune. Dressing in his training clothes, he picked up his sheathed sword from its stand by his bed and put on his familiar mask. He hurried out the door, pausing only to make sure that all entrances were locked and secured by the warding arrays, then headed off to his newly favorite practice hall.
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Walking into the entrance of practice hall 97, Auspicious Nine detected a subtle chill in the manner of the attendant who registered his reservation of a training arena. The structure was deceptively squat being built wider than tall to the naked eye emanating a sense of restrained strength from the strength of the arrays covering its walls. A large portion of the building was below ground reserved for the use of Experts and Elders. That was of no concern to Nine though since his destination was an above ground practice arena suitable for juniors. He'd been using the facility regularly enough for the staff to become familiar with him and there was a definite professional stiffness towards him as he stood at the reception desk.
"Room 32, please." He requested. The attendant responded with a blank face as she processed his request. She placed an array plate densely covered in minute meticulous inscription in front of him without a word. Familiar with the silent treatment, Nine placed his hand on the sub-terminal to the Contribution Board and sent his will through the array to authorize the deduction of the cost of the room's use from his Contribution Point balance. Still keeping quiet, the attendant handed Nine a token to access the requested arena and brusquely turned away to the other end of the reception desk.
The seeds of this chilled interaction had been sown in his initial use of the halls after reaching the 9
th Heavenstage when he'd remarked charitably at length about his previous service at the outdoor practice fields and the associated administration to the attendant on duty only to be pulled into a diatribe by said attendant about the slovenliness and general incompetency of the attendants from the Office of Disciples. The experience had been a discovery of fertile ground to plumb for social research into the formation and interaction of organized social in- and out-groups among cultivator populations. The Contribution Board had a bevy of articles, reports and lectures on social dynamics and cohesion within all manner of social groupings from sects, to clans to gangs and more. The Golden Devil might have fallen far from its origins in the Sea-Conquering Army but it retained that skeleton of professionalism in its self-organization, logistics and administration being a key focus among the exalted pursuits of learned cultivators.
In the subtle battle of hats and chairs between the Office of Disciples and the Office of Administration as regards control of the training areas of the Dawn Fortress that had marked the elevation of the new Council of Elders for the Golden Devil Clan, the first blow might have gone to the Elder of Disciples who had claimed the practice fields under her portfolio but the Mistress of Administration had not been entirely on the back foot and had secured as her due responsibility authority over the practice halls of the Clan's chief fortification. It might have seemed an odd thing that control over the training areas would ever have come into dispute. "Surely," Certain ignorant and foolish observers had been known to remark, "Practice areas were intended for the equipping and refinement of skills in cultivators so they were best managed by the seat dedicated to raising up and furnishing the substance of the legions."
Buffoons one and all. Did they not see that there was prestige to consider, necessary logistical concerns to account, a larger strategic map to follow? In short, the dispute around the practice areas had drawn in the
Protostrator,
Chartoularios Tou Kanikleiou and
Stratopedarches over the centuries. The portfolio was ever changing hands, being split up and combined in varying measure, as political favors waxed and waned. At this point, it had taken on an institutional legacy that even a near purge of the respective elders had not halted. The balance at present largely lay in favor of the Office of Administration who were not subject to the whims of flighty genius. Every practice area excluding the training field was firmly under auspice of the Mistress of Disciples and looked to remain that way for the near future as cultivators counted things.
That being said, the attendants might not exactly have their attitudes sourced in rigid adherence to bureaucratic antagonism. Auspicious Nine might have slipped certain rumors of disparagement from their opposite sides to members of the two administrations, purely for experimental observation of course, and been found out when certain irascible parties had engaged in a month long sabotage campaign across the domains of their responsibilities. Certainly nothing concrete could be traced back to him - the social observer should always try to avoid tainting the experimental field with personal bias - but a heavy shadow of suspicion lay upon him. So he quietly picked up his token from the desk and hastened to the arena he'd requested.
The arena in the training hall was fairly large, enough to allow a physically adept cultivator move around fairly freely. Hardwood floors linked to an array allowed for limited regeneration and the pale stone walls were reinforced with spirit metal in addition to the strengthening and dampening arrays engraved on them. This particular hall was designed with traditional weapons practice in mind and the far end was lined with alcoves containing dummy constructs using various melee and missile weapons. Auspicious Nine closed the door behind him and placed his token against the recess in the center, sending a short flex of qi through it into the arrays to confirm that this arena was in use. He took a few minutes to limber up, stretching his limbs and topping up his qi reserves with spirit stones he'd brought along. Satisfied with his pre-exercise routine, he drew the saber belted to his side and began performing a few basic strikes against an imaginary dummy, settling his breathing into readiness. He progressed from stationary strikes to basic strike and retreat patterns, going slow to make sure his footwork was perfect and generally warming up.
Finally ready, he set himself into the basic opening stance of the Ghost Saber Painting Art - borrowed, not stolen - ran through the basic forms he'd observed as modified by the tutelage of the Ninth Prince. These were simple foundational forms, common to just about any martial form, intended to teach practitioners how to match movement of the weapon wielded to footwork and breathing. By all accounts these should not have been a common occurrence in the practice of a saber wielder like Gui Hua, yet every night she began her practice with them.
Even now as he run through them, familiar with them enough to let his mind wander a bit, he revisited his nightly sojourns the estate of the fallen Jin Muyi during the mourning period for the deceased. Distance in time and space from those events led him to the inescapable conclusion that his observation had been known from the start and permitted. More than that, the subject of his regard had deliberately given him the opportunity to watch her practice and laid out the initial forms of the saber style she'd inherited for him. Undoubtedly there were more advanced techniques, particularly regarding intent, but she'd pretty much given him everything one would expect a Qi Condensation practitioner to know. In fact, she'd actually run through several of the basic qi manipulations involved so slowly and obviously that he'd wondered just what her comprehension of the style was. Now it was clear that the show had been to model it for him if he had the acuity to observe well enough.
Perplexing really. He'd directly asked and being refused point blank but she'd then made provision for him to self study. Bah, not enough data to refine speculation about her motives into useful probabilities. He'd just have to take it up with her in person when he mastered what he had and required access to the techniques meant for Foundation Establishment Experts.
Focusing his mind back on his drills as he progressed to the more complex forms, Nine began to push himself. No longer moving slowly to ensure each motion was perfect, he sped up and danced around the arena. His saber cut forcefully through imaginary opponents, powerful strikes to break apart defenses and sweep aside parries like a powerful stream carrying away detritus. The saber was domineering, a weapon that favored aggression and boldness. In the initial study of the weapon, he'd been distracted by too much thinking, trying to keep track of his footwork, his breathing and his weapon all at the same time. His form had been full of hesitation, littered with holes in his defense that his erstwhile tutelary phantom had taken great delight in pointing out with his switch. That dreamlike session had laid a sound foundation for him to build upon, correcting the unconscious flaws he'd picked up from self-study and trying to incorporate parts of common saber forms he'd had access to into the Gui Hua Dao Fa without sufficient understanding.
On and on he run though the forms increasing the tempo until there was no room for though, for hesitation, only the cut of the saber and ingrained instinct. Slowly he came down from that zenith, reducing the pace of his motions until he came to a dead stop, foot forward and blade extended through the midsection of an average humanoid opponent in the conclusion of a devastating slash.
Breathing in deep controlled breaths, he brushed his dantian and sensed that the martial forms had stirred up the qi in his meridians following his motions. Good, that meant that the next step of active qi channeling would go much faster. Running through the katas with deliberate focus on moving qi through his body more freely was the previous drills writ larger. Qi enhanced, improved, and fortified so it did much the same in this situation. His body came alive with the thrum of qi within muscle and endoskeleton and he finished the repeated workout in half the time.
Practicing katas was all well and good but he could have done that for free outside. It was time to make use of the services of the practice arena. Stopping to restore his qi with a hasty cycling session, he stood saber ready and pulsed instructions via qi into the token.
"Alright let's see how far I can make it this time." He challenged. From an alcove at the end of the hall, a tall imposing construct stepped out of its recess. Standing seven feet tall and designed in the figure of an armored man, the Iron Swordsman dummy construct clasped a longsword in both hands and advanced towards Nine. Striding forward to meet it, Nine led with an attack forcing the dummy to defend. Body reinforced with q i, he pressed the offensive, striking hard and fast. The dummy was a fairly complex product of artifice, using imprinted martial forms and very resilient but it was no match for the tree-man. Several blows broke through its guard striking at its midsection hard enough to dent the metal plating. Registering an attack that would be considered fatal, the dummy froze in defeat and Nine stood back as the array protocols for the arena processed his victory. The defeated dummy retreated back to its alcove two other dummies stepped out of their alcoves, Ironwood Weaponmasters carved from their namesake wood in the shape of stout humanoids five feet and six feet tall, wielding ironically a saber and twin short swords respectively.
Rolling his neck, Nine prepared to receive their attack. This was the challenge he'd needed to refine his saber technique, constantly escalating pressure until he could no longer achieve victory and then one-on-one practice against the untiring constructs using varied weapons to give him experience facing them. Things got spicier when he activated a mixed range combat scenario and the arena added in missile weapons in addition to the melee combatants. It was hard tiring exercise and risky as well since serious injury was always a possibility but how else was his Saber Soul to be developed. Soon enough even these measures would no longer suffice. Already he was setting himself against other cultivators on the training fields but his saber would need tempering in actual live combat if he wished to slay his Foundation stage opponent.
These two would fall quickly enough and then as many of the tide afterwards until he could no longer continue. Then he'd have to see to his other equally important affairs. His schedule each day only ever seemed to grow. Nine cast aside all thought of matters outside the arena when the Ironwood dummies got within ten meters. Projecting a blade of qi large enough to catch both constructs was going to take all his focus. He struck but once, a loud "Kai!" leaving his lungs at the conclusion of the strike, forcefully emptying his lungs and a distressing amount of qi out of his dantian. His saber had known his sweat and blood, its hilt was so familiar to his grip that calluses formed in its mold. The familiar spirit steel drank deep of his energies and the cutting edge of the saber shimmered in the harsh array sourced-light of the arena. The weave of qi was tightly bound, letting little waste energy escape as light during his swing. His naked eye saw only a fast traveling blur but his spirit discerned a a razor's edge flying swiftly and rue to strike the approaching dummies. Moving closely together, both dummies took the hit head on and stopped in their tracks.
"Next set." He whispered from beneath his mask, already ready in stance.
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Bone deep exhaustion made every step a momentous effort as Auspicious Nine made his way out of the arena. The constant exertion of qi to reinforce his body and wield techniques with his saber had left his meridians feeling scraped raw and his dantian was a throbbing ulcer in his abdomen from overuse. Thick dark blood, almost brownish from an angle, stained bandages wound around his limbs and torso. The dummies had been relentless in their assault on him and he'd been a hairsbreadth from serious injury no few time. All the same, his step was certain and glad. Today had been a very productive training session. He'd marked his furthest distance traveled by his Ghost Cut while still retaining combat effectiveness. The footwork required to pull of the Dancing Phantom had finally not tripped him up and he'd managed the feint this time. Of course this was against the simplistic responses of artificial constructs but it was a start.
As he made his way to the reception desk and dropped off his token, he idly wondered what the official name for the formal techniques of the Gui Dua Dao Fa were. He'd initially named them very simply, Qi Blade Projection, Qi Illusion Feint and the like. However, actually using them had led to an appreciation of the beauty inherent to the saber style that justified naming it as an art. He'd flirted briefly with the idea of following the naming conventions of the Third Sea but the mere thought of using a descriptor such as
Muyi's Supreme Far Striking Blade Slash had made nausea rise up his gorge and he'd swiftly dismissed that folly. No, beauty was best appreciated by observing both form and function in simplicity. The Ghost Cut had been so named because the title evoked the image of a spectral swordsman cutting down an opponent sight unseen, wonderfully poetic in its brief description without belaboring the ears with over burdensome qualifiers.
Yes, he mused as he left, the practice hall, that was the way to go, nomenclature simpliciter most assuredly. The area around the practice hall was very busy at this hour, in fact almost every hour these days. Something about active offensive actions against the other peer power in the Desert had everyone seeking to polish their skills. It was not an uncommon sight nowadays to see even the more desk-bound administrators carving out some time to visit the training areas to supplement their martial ability or at the very least, to be seen allegedly doing so. Far be it for him to decry the efforts of others to pursue self-actualization and simultaneously contribute to the available strength of the Clan, although he'd appreciate it if the crowd would heed seniority and respect the person of a peak Qi Condensation legionnaire. He was already sore from the day's exertion and he didn't need another three bumbling juniors somehow managing to walk right into him. Seriously, was he attracting them or what because here came another blind Aspirant.
Glaring at the tall oaf who'd been on a beeline course for him and warning him off with a flare of his cultivation base, Nine was finally able to make his way unbattered through the streets of the Dawn Fortress to a wonder of the clan home. Feng Theros' Warm Baths and Sauna was a wonderful sight after hours of demanding physical practice. Entering the building, he made his way to the receiving area and stood before the desk of the attendant on duty. "One hour's use of a Hot Room, full complement." He asked tersely, slapping down his legionnaire's token. The bathhouse was not a centrally administered facility like the training halls so did not have access to a sub-terminal of the Contribution Board . They did have tokens that allowed transfers of points between cultivators though and the attendant quickly processed his entry.
"Please make use of Hot Room 7, legionnaire Auspicious Nine." He retrieved his token and went deeper into the building towards the individual hot rooms. Using the communal changing area was a quick process. Divesting himself of his outer garments and putting on a towel, he handed his belongings over to the waiting attendant without a word and entered the hot room.
The space within was compact, four walls of dense stone and little more than shelf for seating with a heating furnace. Feng Theros didn't fuss much about decoration, knowing that his customers had more practical pursuits in his establishment. Set on the shelf were several pots sealed by arrays and Nine quickly picked out the one he wanted first. Opening the seal released a frigid aura, the Deep Spring Yin Waters were manifestly in excellent preservation. Dipping a ladle provided with the room into the pot, he fetched a handful of the spirit water, and poured it over the coals in the furnace. Everflame Ghost Coal reacted with the spirit water and released a burst of energetic steam into the air.
The seal on the opened pot would for the moment preserve the spirit water but the steam bored into Auspicious Nine's body causing a welcome sweat as the steam which was paradoxically hot and cold soothed his aching muscles. Resting on the seat, he reclined and let the steam work on him, taking in deep breaths to let his lungs benefit as well. He spent several minutes recuperating in the hot room, adding more spirit water as needed. After a while, he opened another pot provided by the bathhouse much smaller than those containing the spirit water. Within were several packages of processed spirit herbs that he tossed onto the furnace, letting the welcome incense stimulate the qi flow in his body.
Seven Meadows Medley was a patented mixture of Feng Theros', soothing strained meridians and easing the dantian in the recovery of qi. Alternating use of the spirit herbs and water made the hour he'd booked the hot room for fly by. At the end of his allotted reservation, a discreet knock at the door alerted him to the expiration of his reservation. Standing up with nary an aching body part, Auspicious Nine limbered up for a few moments in the tight space before exiting. Retrieving his clothes from the attendant, complementarily aired and freshened up, he thanked the attendant and walked out.
Rested and recuperated, Auspicious Nine rubbed his gloved hands together in eager anticipation ignoring the side eye looks from passersby at the actions of strange figure in the street. The siren call of research beckoned now that his martial training was satisfied.
The Dawn Fortress had many libraries which made sense considering that the Council of Elders operated out of it, Aspirant conduction was conducted here and it was the longest established settlement of the Golden Devil clan in the Desert. Varied interests and specialties were accommodated in the archives available from the Core Formation Array Engineer library to the more simple general technique halls for Foundation Building Clansmen. The particular library that Auspicious Nine found himself in was one of the more popular destinations. The Menagerie was the receptacle for all the commonly available lore the clan had gathered on Spirit Beasts, an ever popular subject for cultivators whether it be for earning Contribution Points, surviving the attention of the inhabitants of the Desert or seeking some epiphany in their path of advancement.
With a pep in his step simply from being surrounded by so much knowledge, Auspicious Nine approached the legionnaire on duty. As was the custom in the libraries of the Dawn Fortress, she wore a toga of spirit cloth woven from bronze over a neatly pressed immaculate white tunic. Fresh faced, the Tribune as marked by her clothes looked young almost cherubic. That appearance was instantly spoiled by a scowl as she noticed the approach of Auspicious Nine.
"I will not stand for your antics today, Auspicious Nine." She warned as he reached her desk.
"You wound me, Tribune Alexandra." Auspicious Nine said, placing a hand over his chest in mock injury. "When have I ever not been the most gracious of patrons in your charge?"
"Every single visit."
Tribunus militum Alexandra Dodehedron said bluntly. Counting off the fingers of her right hand, she recited a litany of complaints. "Harassing fellow patrons by offering unsolicited advice. Attempting to steal checked out materials from the desk of patrons because, and I quote: 'They're too slow and you can't wait'. Trying to sneak into the restricted section of the archives. Concealing yourself in the restrooms so as to have access to the archives after closing hours. Trying to smuggle recording scrips into Expert and Elder restricted sections."
Placing her hand down and crossing her arms, Alexandra growled. "I could go on for days and several hands more but I think the point should be clear by now. You're the most persistent thorn in my side and if I had the power I would ban you from ever stepping foot in my library."
Auspicious Nine shrugged. "What can I say? Passion sometime overcomes me as a dedicate of Research and The Mind. But have no fear, I shall take your concerns into consideration."
Alexandra snorted at that last statement. "I've heard that one before, several times in fact." Uncrossing her arms, she sighed. "What can I do for you today? If I can't keep you out, I would at least like to have you spend as little time in here as possible. So what is it now?"
Eager to get to business, Nine slipped over the counter a written list of the references he wanted made available to him.
Alexandra looked over the list, her left eyebrow climbing fractionally higher with every entry read. She looked up from the end of the list and stared at Auspicious Nine. "I know I've called you many things well deservedly at the time but right now I'm not sure if it would be more accurate to describe you as foolish or daring. You actually seem to be pursuing the idea of hunting a Revolting Vilefart Boar in the Foundation stage, one that has already injured you badly enough to require a life saving treasure, wounds that you still bear no matter that your hardy constitution might allow you to still move about without difficulty."
Ignoring the bewildered look on the woman standing before him, Auspicious Nine cocked his head in a practiced pose and declared. "Progress demands that seekers overcome all barriers that lay before them. To strike across great realms is a sure declaration of the superiority of intellect, technology and self-mastery over animalistic brute strength."
Relaxing from his pose, he lifted up the sheathed sword by his side. "Besides I have a grudge to repay with that beast and there's no better opponent to whet my saber against."
Alexandra looked askance at professed intention. Slowly, she pointed out an inference she'd divined from what Auspicioous Nine had narrated of his previous encounter with his declared rival. "You do realize that since the Boar drove you away from the Mutated Jasmine Lily Blossom, it has most likely reached the equivalent of 2-Pillar Foundation Establishment, maybe even 3-Pillar if it happens upon fortuitous occurrences? If it hasn't been killed by now, you're going to be the worse off now than you were before."
Undaunted, Auspicious Nine stood firm. "I surmised as such myself but the greater the challenge the greater the reward for overcoming it. I have committed to this course and I will not be moved from it."
Shaking her head, Alexandra ceased further commentary and went about retrieving the the requested materials for Auspicious Nine. They were mostly easy to find although a few were aimed towards Experts of the second great realm. Soon enough, Nine was ensconced in a handy nook, the table in front of him laden with slips, scrolls and books.
He was deep into the reading of the anatomy of the Revolting Vilefart Boar, comparing the material with an open text on recommended hunting practices for the more common spirit fauna of the Beast-Raising Forest when a shadow loomed over the page. He looked up to see Alexandra standing over him, and asked curtly, disgruntled at the interruption breaking his flow of concentration. "What do want?"
Alexandra placed a slim stack of manuals on his side and spoke briefly. "You should have a look at these. They will likely prove useful in making your goal a little less foolhardy." She left afterwards without waiting for reply.
Opening the first manual revealed that it was an instruction text for a technique called the Grudge Vessel of Gu. Reading further elaborated that this was a dual curse and poison preparation technique, an interesting one that leveraged malice and enmity to steep qi contained in a practictioner's dantian that had been processed into poison using a body cauldron process, and transform it into a virulent attack that struck harder that one would expect from the cultivation base of the user. Auspicious Nine was almost ecstatic. This was perfect. Sure the technique had a propensity for killing the users from the contamination of their internal qi systems and, yes, even those who didn't die often lost themselves in psychosis consumed by revenge but those were concerns for lesser persons than himself. A glance at the other manuals Alexandra had dropped off showed them to be trap and poison handling discourses. Auspicious Nine made a whispered reminder into his record-keeping slip to return the favor to Alexandra. Perhaps she'd like a guaranteed supply of enervating beetles?
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The heat of the sun against his bare skin was a welcome warmth. This afternoon, Auspicious Nine had shucked off his clothes leaving only his underclothes and sat on the grassy field of an outdoor training ground carefully cultivated to strengthen the alignments of Wood energies. His research at the Menagerie had set him on a plan of action with good odds of success so after recovering from saber practice he'd made his way here to work on the necessary fundamentals of his strategy.
"Hmmm, this might be a bit more trickier than expected." Nine muttered to himself as he sat cross legged and channeled the qi for the Verdant Bough Regrowth technique through the meridians surrounding his core. The qi he was pushing through his body was sluggish, almost unresponsive to his control. The cause of this was a small infusion of venom he'd taken to test out an idea.
The strength of the Grudge Vessel of Gu in its ability to ignore cultivation realm disparity and strike upwards was undeniable. However that same strength posed a serious risk to users so while Nine was fascinated by the potential there, he restrained himself to first secure the means of deriving optimal use from the technique. Most fortuitously, he had a pre-existent advantage that would simultaneously help him employ the Grudge poison and also protect himself against most side effects hopefully.
Cultivators with a primary alignment and development in Wood qi were not a common sight in the Organ Meat Desert. The thin qi of the region starved all but the most hardy specimens of life, fauna and flora alike. Spirit Beasts at least had the option of wide ranging predation and foraging to supplement the energy they required to advance but Spirit Herbs were the worse off. They awakened to spiritual wisdom in the parched lands much more slowly than in the verdant fields of the Green Scale Plains and their progress was magnitudes more delayed. Humans and other ascendant lifeforms were no less subject to environmental pressures and the difficulties of developing Wood aligned cultivators in the Desert were well known. This was not to say that there weren't any at all but comparing their numbers to the abundance of Fire, Earth, Wind and Metal cultivators put them rather low on the scale. The only group worse of in representation were Water cultivators. In that light the strong Wood alignment of Auspicious Nine's physique was rare.
Born from the lingering energies of Jin Muyi's transformation in the blood-soaked outskirts of Pleuron, their fundamental makeup was a hybrid of plant and human. The Blood of Bronze was the primary bloodline in their flesh, its superlative prestige shining through even in the dregs they held at birth. Yet, the Bronze was ever mutable, a ready complement to form a spiritual alloy as its numerous variants currently extant and extinguished attested to. In Auspicious Nine and his siblings, Third Sea physiology and the artifact of the Sea-Conquering Army had melded to produce what he named, the Vital Golden Arbor variant.
Auspicious Nine looked deep within himself, seeing how bronze and wood melded together throughout his form. It was an amazing sight that never ceased to amaze, particularly the qualities of the Blood of Bronze, endlessly repairing, reinforcing and accumulating more of itself as his cultivation advanced. Wood alignments excelled at growth and healing, but were weak in defense so that strength combined with the Blood of Bronze to make a bloodline that promised incredible resilience and recuperative capacity. His body was still as yet undeveloped in expressing that potential but he anticipated more visible returns once he broke past Qi Condensation.
In fact, Nine suspected that it was the latent vitality of his bloodline that allowed him to so easily withstand the effect of the poison he'd ingest. The first component of the Grudge poison was the venom of a Scorching Mirage Dao-Viper. The initial intake had seemed mild but then an uncomfortable heat had made itself known. Looking at his internal with his spiritual sense, Nine witnessed the cells and process of his body beating back a fierce conflagration in his veins. His body was handily keeping up but the Verdant Bough Regrowth technique was not helping much. In fact it seemed to be fueling the poison's attack. Wood alignment offered increased recovery ability and resistance to poisons but that wasn't a blanket application. His current application of the recovery technique was not helpful at all.
Lifting his head from where it'd fallen forward unconsciously during his introspection, Auspicious Nine considered the technique in question. He'd received the technique during a visit to the Grand Technique Palace during his time as an Aspirant. Even in its damaged state, the artifact had been a magnificent edifice to artifice and progress. Here was a legacy of knowledge passed down through generations to raise up able successors standing on the shoulders of the giants who came before them in the hope that they too in turn would advance some pursuit and leave behind a worthy legacy in a great chain of development. The Palace had assessed his attributes and affinities before impressing upon his mind the necessary knowledge to use the Verdant Bough Regrowth and in a jade slip. Now, he plumbed that received knowledge in greater detail than ever since he'd become capable of maintaining it almost unconsciously.
Genius he might have been but there were certain insights that age and lived experience provided that the youth he'd been at the time had little appreciation for. He'd adopted a general approach to the technique's use, he realized, and habit had led him to entrench that particular mechanic. It amounted to saturating afflicted parts of the body in healing energies, wrapping them like a smothering blanket to promote regrowth. Good for physical injuries and targeted wounds but poor utility against poisons and infections. In fact the technique had difficulty accelerating certain significant wounds like the ones he'd taken from the Vilefart Boar. Refreshing his knowledge of the technique revealed that there were slower more focused approaches specifically to deal with poisons that were not easily overcome by merely bolstering the flesh around the site of attack. This experience was a useful caution that he was not perfect and sometimes a step back to look at things with a new perspective was needed.
Armed with the new understanding, Nine spent several minutes carefully corralling and suppressing the ingested poison. Unlike the standard protocols for dealing with poison that called for extinguishing and excretion, the Grudge poison technique required that he master containment, first within his meridians then in his dantian. The progression was critical. Meridian practice was necessary to make sure a user didn't outright kill themselves by introducing an uncontrollable poison into the seat of their spiritual system. The manual had boldly highlighted that warning in its description.
He took painstaking time to seal of the poison in a meridian in his arm, monitoring its effect against the seal of qi he wove around. When he was satisfied that indeed, he was able to restrain the venom and only needed to work on scale, he expelled it out his skin in a greasy film of sludge from his pores. Wiping off the effluent he he looked down at the other vials waiting for him, four as yet unopened. The Grudge poison required a progressive ingestion of poisons sourced from elementally aligned beasts: Snake (Fire), Centipede (Metal), Spider (Wood), Scorpion (Earth), Toad (Water). The goal was to develop to the point he could transform his dantian into an imitation of a pill refining cauldron that would hold the varied poisons and let him process them in a Five Elements Generating Cycle and then add on a Five Elements Overcoming Cycle to together concentrate the poison using a yin-yang alchemy into an amalgam that would be several magnitudes more potent. If that wasn't difficult enough, he had to also focus on reversing the virtues of the elemental alignments during the latter cycle, and instill curses of vice and debilitation on the brewing product.
This was a difficult, time consuming and expensive technique requiring superlative skill in every step that even when successful still had to be delivered to the opponent to have any use. In short, a perfect match for a talent such as Auspicious Nine's. With this he could put the terror of death into even Experts. Grinning gleefully at the prospect of mounting the stuffed head of a soon to be porkchop in his quarters, Auspicious Nine opened the remaining vials and swallowed the contents of all five in quick succession. Scorching Mirage Dao-Viper venom, Voracious Armored Fulminating Centipede toxin, Bone Playing Ambush Tarantula vitriol, Vitrifying Prismatic Glass Scorpion venom and Blistering Rainbow Dart Toad poison went straight down his gullet with brief pauses interspersed. There was a quiet moment as the noxious substances entered his system and then found one another. Auspicious Nine fell over flat onto his back as the poisonous reagents reacted with each other and the container they were in, that being his body.
"Ohh... Bleh..." He groaned as a war raged within. He mustered the full strength of his cultivation base, sending tendrils of qi from the Verdant Bough Regrowth to reinforce his innards while also using them in addition to the instructions for the Grudge Vessel to control and direct the combined poisons in his stomach where they had little access to his circulatory systems. Was it reckless to down all five at one? Sure but it was calculated recklessness. Now, he was able to observe firsthand how the reagents reacted in an organic environment. The quantities ingested weren't a significant risk to his life... Mostly.
"Boldness and daring... Thus do we leap forward." He whispered to himself, almost as a mantra, bent on mastering this technique. However long and difficult the path became he would see it through to the end.
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Auspicious Nine wondered if perhaps he should reconsider his training methods, trying and failing to brush off from his coat a stain he'd made purging his stomach contents uncontrollably. His hands shook at the motion, heedless to his commands. The nerve toxin of the centipede still had his fine motor control all over the place. Leaving the training fields felt like walking away from torture session by demented imps with a fascination for sadistic thrills. He'd made painfully little progress in beginning to employ the Grudge Vessel and he was utterly exhausted, in qi and mental focus from the strain of the training. He'd love nothing more than to head straight to his quarters to fall flat onto the floor and sleep the rest of the day away but he had prior commitments that could not be set aside.
So he made his way from the training areas, heading towards a small market to the south where certain uncommon merchandise were provided to informed customers. He moved almost in a daze, his feet working automatically and blinked in confusion when he noticed that he'd been still for a while. Looking around revealed that he was standing in front of a plain unmarked storefront. The business was familiar to him and he entered through the wooden door.
The inside of the shop was dimly lit and light from the bright sun of the streets illuminated a fair distance within. The room was longer than it was wide, stretching a fair distance backwards in a veritable maze of cages and enclosures holding a wide ranging spread of Spirit Beasts. At the far end of the chamber, a figure had been bent over a cage, looking up at the sudden brightness.
"Close the door behind you. The light is going to irritate some of my wares." Annoyance in her voice, the young woman attending to the occupant of the cage said, dressed in a simple black cheongsam with her hair bound up in a braid and pinned to her head.
Auspicious Nine did as asked and made his way to her, taking his time to examine the animals on display while doing so. Reaching where the woman was currently examining a spotted snake colored white with black markings, Nine greeted hoarsely. "Good afternoon, Bok Than. It looks like you've got some interesting new arrivals. Was that a Sacred White Chicken you got by the ants? I'd like to have a look if you have the time."
Placing the snake back in its cage, Bok Than placed her hands on her hips, eyes tight and looking Nine up and down. "You sound like someone stuffed Ghost Devil Pepper down your throat. Your spirit feels strained and you look as though a breeze could knock you over. What did you, O great genius, Asupicious Nine?" She asked sardonically.
"I must thank you for your supply of the requested poisons. They proved as potent as you described. I'd have to make another order though. Five times the quantity as before." Nine replied.
Bok Than closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'd like to say that there's no way anyone would use such a quantity of decidedly lethal poisons on themselves so quickly but then I remember that I know you and I shouldn't be surprised. I'm almost amazed that you're still alive but somehow all the risks and shortcuts you take never quite seem to land you in the grave you seem to leaping for."
"Please, don't insult me." A little fire warmed Nine's tone as he reacted to the comment. "I never take shortcuts, I only ever away the dross of lesser minds and drive straight for the bare essence of the matter."
Rolling her eyes, Bok Than snorted. "Keep believing that and one day you're going to find yourself on a pyre with a memorial stone that reads: See here the perils of foolhardy genius. That would be a fitting capstone to your life for everything I've witnessed you do."
"I rather figure that you'll be left eating the dust of of my heaven defying ascent as I break through to Foundation Building in less than six decades of cultivation." Auspicious Nine smugly needled her back.
"I'll eat a batch of Old Tong's special aromatic cheese if that happens, I swear on the name of the Imperator." Bon Thok declared.
"I'll hold you to that promise." Auspicious Nine happily agreed. "Now, is my order in yet?"
Rummaging around the drawers at the back of the display room, Bon Thok pulled out several cloth covered bundles and placed them on the ground. "Here you go. There's the usual supplements and materials for your beetles as well as the a restock of herbs, minerals and oils for your experiments. A miniature model of the skeleton of a Revolting Vilefart Boar. The trap making supplies you requested. Oh, and finally, processed animal feed that I will ignore I ever saw you eating."
"Thank you for prompt delivery." Auspicious Nine said, tipping his hat briefly. "I will remind you once again that while the feed is marketed as being for herd animals, it is a nutritious addition to my diet that I am readily able to digest not being so limited as yourself."
"Sure, you go on and enjoy your weird palate." Bon Thonk waved her hands dismissively. She paused as something came to mind. She left the room via a door at the back while Auspicious Nine bent down to gather his purchased items and wrap them in a sack for transport. He looked up in question when Bon Thok returned holding a metal urn, wrapped in talismans.
"Here, you like weird stuff and are currently planning to take on a Spirit Beast that would love to have you for lunch, so you need all the help you can get." Slapping the flat top of the urn, she proudly displayed the container. "This here contains pupa of a unique strain of fleas kept in hibernation. They're confirmed to be Qi Condensation averaging mid realm in strength. I figure that a boar would make a prime feeding host for these parasites. They'd give it a suitable distraction to keep its attention occupied and with luck, might even weaken it."
Auspicious Nine drew closer, his interest piqued. "That is certainly an unusual line of attack. I would think though, that a Spirit Beast in the wild would have prior experience with ectoparasites and either have a means of eliminating them or ignoring any effect of those a great realm below."
A wide grin split Bon Thok's features. "Ah, but that's the thing. I told you that these were special fleas, didn't I?"
"These specimens were sourced from a supreme lineage. They are the shed population from parasites subsisting on a Nascent Soul, lady Yao Zhihao of the Flood Dragon Gang. She's positively infested with them, which is understandable if you see her idea of hygiene." Bon Thok shuddered at the memory of the ally of the Nascent Soul. Some things made you want to take steel scouring wire to your skin and dunk yourself in caustic cleaning fluid. "Somehow they're able to survive her presence and actually feed. There's even rumors that there was an infestation that required the Elder of Sanitation, Eutropia Cincinnatus, herself to deal with. I have no doubt that any fleas of such heritage would find no problems making themselves a very unpleasant experience for even a Foundation stage beast."
All hint of weariness fled Auspicious Nine as his mind flashed through the possibilities. "Name your price. I'll take every one you have."
Bon Thok didn't gouge him too badly, apparently frequent customer discounts applied. Returning home, Auspicious Nine hurried through the streets, sack on his back. Tonight called for a long planning session to set out the new research goals and schema. Glorious progress awaited.
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Busy, busy, every hour busy. Sand seemed to rush through the hourglass with frightening speed, the days appearing to skip by in brief flashes. His preparations were moving apace consuming his time, hour after hour for weeks on end. Today was the first day in a long while, he'd had time to take a brief pause.
Standing at his desk reviewing his progress reports, Auspicious Nine saw only success plotted out. He'd managed to make great progress in actually using the Grudge Vessel of Gu. He'd advanced from merely suffering the effects of the required poisons to transforming himself into an alchemical poison bomb on a hair's trigger. Wonderful progress had been made in making his dantian into a receptacle cauldron and he was now able to maintain containment even while walking about. No running, that way lay making a good faith attempt at drowning himself in his own blood. The advance in poisoning himself had been followed lockstep by the development of his mastery of the Verdant Bough Regrowth. He'd managed to cut down on healing supplies immensely and keep his organs from shutting down several times so far. With how far he'd progressed, he expected that given enough time he'd manage to recover from just about any physical injury so long as it wasn't immediately fatal or drowning or meridian crippling or fast-acting necrosis or... Okay there were still a lot of things that could handily kill him but he'd nonetheless improved drastically and needed less of an established healthcare infrastructure to recover compared to most peers and yes he was still struggling through the healing of certain old tusk wounds but hey, progress.
The insects of his breeding project were in fine form as he bent down to look through the glass of their enclosure. He'd actually made his first sales of them this month. Alexandra had, of course, appreciated his fine gift of a sample of the delicious morsels when he'd presented them to her on one of his visits to the Menagerie. She'd liked them so much she'd sought him out to contract a bulk delivery every week. Apparently he wasn't marketing to the appropriate market but he was glad to have someone else deal with the inanities of retail and advertising. All he had to do was supply the product en mass and he'd found that easy enough. His Contribution Points balance was seeing some resuscitation after the battering it'd taken these recent months, finally. If this kept apace and he managed to keep within his budget, he'd no longer have to pester Athena for handouts. The letters accompanying the credit were very... aggressive in their denunciation of his financial acumen. Utter nonsense. He knew how to manage money to secure the maximal immediate supply of research materials and cultivation necessities. Who really needed to purchase food all the time? There was fine eating thrown out every day all around the Dawn Fortress for no good reason that he could see. Oh well, the foolishness of the common Clansman was his gain. In fact, his meals even had the added bonus of extra flavor.
He cheerfully whispered to his prized new subjects. "How are my beautiful bloodsucking terrors doing today?" The fleas he'd purchased from Bon Thok were an intriguing set of subjects. The fleas in their preserved states as pupa were perfectly safe to handle so long as they were kept in isolation arrays. Out in the open, they were primed to respond the nearest sign of animal life and act with shocking speed. An adult flea could burst free from its pupa in seconds and head straight to the creature that had triggered them. They had proved as adept in getting through the resilience of the reinforced bodies of cultivators and even active qi defenses as Bon Thok had promised. In truth, he'd been just as surprised as the Centurion he'd recruited as a research subject when one in ten fleas had managed to pierce the Expert's skin. That might not sound like much but these were Qi Condensation insects and he had thousands of pupa.
Eyeing the tub of melted ice in the middle of the room, he reminded himself to empty out the contents and get fresh ice. Finally getting the Dream Chasing Nightmare Bridling Sutra to function effectively had been hard work with several false starts but he'd done it. He imagined that the creators of the sutra hadn't exactly imagined the use he had for it. Certainly, the Sutra allowed him to conjure up his heart demons and confront them face to face. The incense sticks he'd lit for his fallen comrades had been an unusual emotive ritual but he'd felt a relief in acknowledging their memory and deaths. Huh, goes to show that even without the benefit of genius people could happen upon truths of the self. He'd began entrenching the foundation of his Dao-Heart and his formation work had never been more certain. Being able to go back and relive the past as memory recalled it allowed a remarkable perspective on circumstances. Fear, doubt, anger, and more. He'd recalled their whip and turned his will on them, overcoming himself to firm up his well. That was all well and good but the theoretical research opportunities open to him through the Sutra were what got him excited. Facing off against that porcine foe had allowed him to compare personal experience with his study materials. Modeling the beast's anatomy was much more clarifying in his mind than relying on jade slips. He had a whole board of details and notes for his planning in his dreams, which preserved itself between waking and slumber.
He picked up his saber from its stand where he'd left it unsheathed after oiling and sharpening it, placing it in its scabbard and belting it about his waist. He was nowhere near mastery of the weapon as his repeated defeats in the training hall attested but he'd come far enough along that now he was mostly treading water practicing against constructs. Now, he needed living opponents, who reacted with the wits and cunning of cultivators. He'd taken to practicing within the dreamscape of the Sutra but the nature of the technique worked against him. Whatever opponents he conjured were merely his mind reflecting itself. None of them compared to the shadowy doppelganger, the Ninth Prince had created for him to test himself against. No, if he was to progress he needed guidance in much the same way as he'd been lifted up during the training in the crypt. Gui Hua, inheriting scion of Jin Muyi, was unavailable deployed to the war with Jingshen so he turned to a master closer at hand. It was time to see if Hitokiri Battousai was taking new students.
The street along which Auspicious Nine made his habitation was officially named Eudokia Tzimiskes Way after a Nascent Soul elder of the Clan in earlier times. Unofficially during his stay, it had alternatively been referred to as the Street of Precipice or Ancient's Lane for varied reasons mostly having to do with the unusual number of residents who had managed to reach the 9
th Heavenstage. In the past month since guest elder Hitokiri had taken residence, the casual name in use had firmly settled as the Path of Deathly Blades. No need to wonder overmuch how that had come to be.
Nine confidently made his way done the street, pausing briefly to call out to his neighbor coming up the opposite direction. "Ho, Huang Gu! Fine morning isn't? The birds are atwitter and their song is beautiful today I must say. A cultivator could bask in these enrapturing melodies and seek the contemplation of the Dao. Aren't we all so blessed to have such music about us?"
Huang Gu fumed, a foul look twisting his face. "One day Auspicious Nine, you're going to open that mouth of yours and someone is going to make you swallow your tongue whole because of the offensive drivel that just floods out. That day, I'd gladly fete that hero who would so gloriously rescue the world from the sound of your voice."
Cheerfully, Auspicious Nine replied him. "To know the future for certain is beyond such as you and myself, but I have a pressing suspicion that I'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who'd take your singing over my own efforts even bereft of tongue."
He continued down the street not interested in what reply Huang Gu had to give to this unfortunate truth. There did appear to be some faint screeching behind him though, almost as if a cat was being strangled. Down the road, he went until he came upon the entrance to a much larger plot than the standard quarters allotted to Qi Condensation. Knocking at the wooden gate, he waited for several minutes to no reply. Unperturbed he tried the door and finding it unlocked, let himself in. The compound within was quite large more than four times that of his own street access residence. There was a pond to the right of the gate filled with koi and other ornamental fish. A paved walkway led up towards the main structures which he followed to a stone courtyard. In the shadow cast by three buildings arranged in an open rectangle, he found a man seated in seiza upon the bare stone facing the walkway. The man was a slight figure clad in a black hakama belted in white wearing a pink overcoat. His hair had likely been a long fall of scarlet in earlier days but now it was a faded gray with only a few scattered hints in the bound ponytail of its former splendor. Despite the signs of age in his hair, his face was unlined, bearing a countenance that looked perplexingly both young and old. Eyes closed, he didn't offer much presence not even a hint of breath to indicate life but Auspicious Nine had done his research and knew that he stood before the Hitokiri Battousai.
Bowing deeply, he coughed once and waited. By his heartbeat, Auspicious Nine that roughly a minute had passed without any notice of his presence before he coughed again, louder this time. Again no response after a minute's wait, so he repeated his previous action. This continued for several minutes. Nine was in the midst of a particularly rumbling whoop when one eye lifted slightly, an icy blue gaze pinning where he stood.
"Boy, if your lungs are failing you, do me the favor of dying somewhere other than on my courtyard." The words were softly spoken and the eye closed back immediately afterwards.
"Greetings elder Battousai of the esteemed Flood Dragon Gang. It is an honor to meet you. I'd like you to take me as a student." Auspicious Nine politely requested.
Both eyes opened this time as the elder looked upon the junior before him. "If you were going to be so direct, why did you spend so many minutes offending my ears with your gasping rather than speaking?"
Pleased to have engaged the elder in conversation, Nine replied. "Conventional wisdom has it that speaking to interrupt a senior is unwise and doubly so if a junior speaks first without acknowledgment. It says nothing about coughing."
"That is an obtuse interpretation of social protocol no one will believe you came at honestly." Elder Battousai calmly remarked. "I'd be impressed but I have little care or time to spare on you. Please depart immediately."
"As you command, elder." Auspicious Nine bowed promptly and left back the way he'd came. Elder Battousai closed his eyes to return to meditation and did so for a short time before his right eyebrow twitched violently. Bold as can be, Auspicious Nine made his return to the courtyard. Bowing once again to the kneeling elder, he stood quietly in front of the senior cultivator.
The sky darkened and the sun fell towards the horizon as Auspicious Nine maintained his position throughout the hours in between. As the sun set and evening fully lay upon the land, elder Battousai once more opened his eyes. "I distinctly remember asking you to leave my property, receiving acknowledgment of my instruction in fact yet here you stand before me once more."
Ever eager as always, Auspicious Nine responded. "Indeed, elder, you did ask that I depart and i hastened to comply immediately but there was no prohibition on my return so retraced my steps to once again present my petition. Please take me as your student."
Rising to his feet, Hitokiri Battousai barely made it to Auspicious Nine's shoulder. Arms folded behind his back, he looked up at Auspicious Nine. "Why do you want me to take you as a student? Who am I that you would seek me out so?"
"Hitokiri Battousai, birth name unknown. Early Core Formation sword cultivator. Exact age unknown, estimated at 500 years." Auspicious Nine promptly recited. "Originally a wandering cultivator hiring his services out as an assassin and sellsword in the Plains. Recruited by 'Mortal-Protecting Heavenly Bandit' Huang Li into the Flood Dragon Gang as a Foundation expert. Earned a reputation for exceptional restraint as a righteous bandit, killing and seriously wounding very rarely. Participated alongside the Gang in the Ninth Demon-Annihilating War mostly in the backlines securing mortal populations. Reported severely injured, likely crippled in the massacre of the Gang by the Noble Devil Alliance and was lost on the Great Battlefield. Resurfaced in the aftermath of the Thousand Song Siege, healed from crippling by a fortuitous treasure but looking at a decades long recovery. Retreated back to Golden Devil territory to recuperate, enrolled as guest elder after formal military pact between Golden Devils and Flood Dragons concluded. Currently resident in the Dawn Fortress, assisting Yao Zhihao in recruitment."
Nodding in accompaniment to the rapid recitation, elder Battousai begun walking around the figure of Auspicious Nine. "You know quite a bit about my history, true but you have not answered my question of why I should take you as a student. As you said, I am helping my Gang Leader recruit new blood and I don't see you leaving the Golden Devils to take up the cause of righteous banditry. So again I ask, why should I take you on as a student?"
Facing forward, Auspicious Nine gave his answer. "You are a renowned sword cultivator whose command of the blade is well regarded. Good intelligence from the Clan's archives indicates that you have faced off against cultivators several sub-stages above yours and survived, sometimes winning in surprise upsets. Most importantly for me, you have reportedly dueled numerous elders of the Seven Divine Saber Palace in an exchange of pure swordsmanship and have the balance of wins in your favor. I seek to master the saber and if as a Golden Devil, I cannot study under the pre-eminent saber wielders of the region I would have the tutelage of the man who has bested many of their greatest."
Circling back to face Auspicious Nine, elder Battousai rubbed at his chin carefully. "You flatter me much but that is not enough to win you instruction from me. I am minded to banish you from my presence but I get the impression that you're going to persist in annoying me even then. So let us settle, this matter here and now."
Stepping backwards, he clasped his hands in front of him. "This shall be your test to see if you're worth taking under my wing: draw your saber and cut me down."
Auspicious Nine processed the command for a moment and drew his sword immediately. Entering the first attack stance of the Gui Hua Dao Fa both hands on the hilt, he emptied his mind of all thought except the target before him. The freshly sharpened edge of his blade blurred, a haze of qi in such amounts as to be visible covering the razor keen border for a retained Ghost Cut . Qi poured out of his dantian like a dam burst, flooding his body and empowering it to unsustainable heights. That was all right, he only needed one strike after all. He exploded forward, blade leading the way aiming at the neck of the man before him, perfectly placed for a decapitating stroke. In the moment of his attack, the gates of hell opened before him. No longer was there a man ahead, no this was a towering black-skinned asura with blade in hand swinging down at him, a fell handed reaper striking him down, body rent, mind shattered, soul split asunder.
He cut through it. He struck through the image of his oncoming death, ignoring its keen edge seeking his life and landed his blow. He might as well have attempted to cut down the Heavens. His blade stopped at bare skin without leaving a mark, the recoil of its rebound shaking his wrists as though he'd hit a block of solid steel. In the instant of his failed attack, his opponent's counterstrike landed sending a chill through him as the thin line of death cut through him vertically.
Shivering he loosened his right hand from the hilt patting at his crown and chest, certain he'd been separated in half. He found no wound on himself which made sense he shakily reminded himself. Being cut in twain didn't leave much room for further action. Satisfied with his frantic self examination he looked up to find only empty space. Behind him he heard a voice calling out, "You passed. Be here tomorrow at dawn no later."
Spinning around he watched as the back of elder Battousai receded in the distance towards his home. He had to know, he couldn't let this question go unanswered. Shouting at the retreating elder, he asked, "What would have happened if I failed and I flinched?"
Pausing to give his reply, elder Battousai's voice somehow seemed to come from right next to him. "You'd have died, your entrails staining my courtyard like offal, cut apart like a pig in the slaughterhouse. My strike was true and unless you brought an equal conviction to sunder its edge, it would have been as real as any mundane blade. I did say that this would be the end of the matter. Now begone, I've had enough of your company for one day."
Auspicious Nine made haste out of the compound. He was in no hurry to test the killer behind him. All the same, wonder filled him at the memory of that strike. An illusion that was true unless challenged. A killing intent so pure as to manifest physical effect. He'd found a superlative teacher and even now his mind whirred to pick apart the encounter. Tonight, he knew what nightmares he was going to be hosting in his mind.
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Leaving the Dawn Fortress was a strange thing. Old Bronzegate at his back and the Scorpion Road ahead was just like the early days of being Aspirant, expect without the prospect of mass slaughter with the decade. Now he was headed to the battlefront with Jingshen with a quick stopover for a side of bacon.
Months of preparation had gone into this and he'd found himself looking beyond the beast that had set him upon this pursuit. Sure he was going to enjoy turning that porkchop into a meal but that was minor accomplishment compared to what he'd achieved. Expanding his mind and exploring his heart with a sutra was not exactly standard fare he'd appreciated early on but it was very fitting. He'd sought to know the Truth of the World and had come to realize that he was just as much a part of that world so he was best placed to learn the Truth of Auspicious Nine.
Had he not recently been forced to contemplate the nature of his being? To ponder just how being born a fusion of plant and human defined him? Wood and Bronze, the bloodlines of his body pushed and pulled at the path that lay before him. There was a simple joy he'd come to take in unraveling the secrets of his form, transforming it into a container, restoring it by the power of his will.
He'd never imagined picking a weapon and dedicating himself to its mastery. Under elder Battousai, his eyes had been opened to the complexities and profound mysteries that could be found just in using a blade. The vista of Progress had been expanded for him and he was eager to see where next it would take him.
Tightening his sword belt, he set off to win his vengeance, to serve his Clan and perhaps to capture a little of the Truth of Being for himself.
AN: (16150 words)
@Alectai @no. @ReaderOfFate Please threadmark. This is the longest single omake I've ever written. I wanted to tell the story of how I say Auspicious Nine and where I saw his path heading. I'm not
@BadAtScreenNames and I'm certainly the lesser author but I wanted to show the life of this arrogant genius who'd grown on me. Originally this was supposed to climax with the rematch but I found that this was a good place to stop, to see how well I communicated to an audience. Enough talk. I know there are plenty of errors in this but that's for later.
