Gaius Antonius 84 - Unbinding
Having grown up in an extremely landlocked region, travel by sea was an immense novelty to Hong Xuan Fang Tai. The former scion may not have been able to see the ocean in all of its purported beauty, but the intense scent of the salty air and the rhythmic bobbing of the ship was captivating in its own right.
Five days of travel by sea, even through a Sea Lane, communicated with vivid clarity the weakness of the Third Sea, and the power which dwelled in all other places. The unmistakable signatures of multiple Nascent Souls could be detected, lurking within mere tens of miles of one another near the edges of the Lane. The existence of such titans was a casual thing in the boundless ocean, hinting at the far greater beings which lived farther from the shore.
The destination: a small island a few hundred miles off the west coast of the Virtuous Flipper. This landmass had a simple name: Signal Island. Thus named for the constant, easily felt qi signature it gave off, like some kind of light or beacon that had been left permanently on. This, Fang Tai's visions had told him, was the key, the place he needed to go in order to put a stop to the future he had glimpsed.
The vessel on which he was riding, a relatively simple thing made for short-distance travel rather than real cross-Sea voyages(very few of those happened anymore), slowed to a stop as the island came into focus to the South of their position. At the helmsman's command, the wind stilled to a halt, no longer pulling at the sails and allowing the boat to slow.
Heavy, leisurely footsteps announced the approach of the ship's captain, a portly, hairy man in the Great Circle of Foundation. A speck, compared to the things lurking in the deep water, but boundaries were boundaries, so anyone could sail a boat within the Sea Lanes. "That'd be it, right over there - Signal Island." He noted in a gruff voice, pointing it out before remembering he was talking to a blind man and lowering his hand.
"Mm, and everything is ready to get me there?" Fang Tai asked, hands clenching on the wooden railing in front of him.
"Aye. The starboard catapult is ready to go when you are." The captain confirmed, before sighing and leaning over the railing himself. "But I really can't fathom what you'd come all this way for. I've seen the signature meself, it doesn't belong to anything. Just a phantom."
"I've been chasing phantoms for a while now, Captain." Fang Tai said with a small smirk, before turning and bowing in gratitude. "I really must thank you for making this trip on such short notice. The pay can't have been much for an Expert."
"Ah, it's nothing, the crew and I were already headed out in this direction." The captain said, leading his charge to his destination.
An unusual contraption of silver and cobalt with jade inlays, the "catapult", as the crewmen called it, was a device for shunting matter through compressed space, so as to travel outside of a Sea Lane without touching the water. The central structure was a sort of bowl in which the cargo was placed, with a pair of flat, array-inscribed rods pointing outward. The left rod "pushed" matter, and the right rod "pulled" it. The whole thing was on a swiveling mechanism, allowing it to be aimed. The shape made Fang Tai imagine a giant tuning fork affixed to a telescope stand.
This particular catapult was small, only transporting an object up to twenty miles; thankfully, Signal Island was only a few miles outside the Lane. When he'd asked the crew's Arraysmith how the thing worked, he'd gotten a worryingly nonchalant shrug. As the smith had said, it was a design you couldn't hope to understand if you weren't in Core Formation, and very well-studied at that, but Arraysmiths on ships learned to construct it through simple memorization. No safer method of crossing outside a Sea Lane had yet been discovered, save for simply flying high enough that nothing in the water would take notice of you.
Fang Tai hopped inside, sitting down inside the metal bowl and feeling the tingle of an active array. Nearby, the Arraysmith began channeling qi into the catapult, building up to its launch.
The captain patted the underside of the catapult, producing a sonorous
clunk clunk. "We'll circle back around in a week. I hope your business is settled by then."
Fang Tai breathed deeply in and out, trying to relieve some of his nervous tension. "It should be; it's a small island, after all. I'll find what I'm looking for quickly."
The catapult began to hum, and that hum soo became a whine, as its energy was focused and directed. The folding of space worked absolute chaos on Fang Tai's hearing, as vibrations from all around were scrambled and thrown about - he couldn't imagine how strange it looked. Finally, with something between a pop and a whistle, he was flung.
—-
Signal Island was, in fact, quite small. A few miles across, barely enough land to build a village and just enough farmland to sustain its inhabitants. Vegetation grew here and there, and small rodents scampered about. The shoreline cave way to gently rolling hills somewhere between sand and dirt, and beyond that, stone. At the center stood the only thing of import.
An unusual creation of stone and bronze, twenty feet tall, sat in the center of the island, inscribed with arrays which gave off a gentle glow. From the shape(a broad central structure topped by a thinner spire) one might suspect it to be a building, but there were no doors or points of entry of any kind.
Fang Tai pressed his palm to the mysterious object and felt a surprising amount of warmth, in excess of one hundred degrees. There was energy here, alright, but the exact nature of it was beyond his senses. Furthermore, it didn't seem to be going anywhere at all, simply sending out a signal in all directions for thousands of miles.
Fang Tai pulled his hand away, raising his voice above the quiet hum of the machine. "At the beacon in the sea, Hong Xuan Fang Tai meets an old man hewn into wood, and is changed into something greater. Is there an old man here?"
"Indeed there is."
The ground rumbled for a moment, and then it arose; a mass of squirming, shifting roots. They soon merged together, forming a sturdy tree, perhaps three times the size of a man. On a large knot in the middle of the trunk, features emerged, until the face of an old, bearded man could be made out in the wrinkled bark.
"I am the Well-Wisher, the one who sprouts in places of power!" It announced with a booming, grandiose voice. "You have done well to find me here, young one. Perhaps this was a fated meeting."
"It was." Fang Tai replied, taken aback but not especially fazed - when following a prophetic dream, it was best to go in ready for the unexpected. "I… this event was foretold to me, among many other things. You have the power to change people, right?"
"That I do." Said the ent. "But not all are worthy. I have appeared to many, but I have yet to find a proper vessel." It went quiet for a moment, prodding at Fang Tai with the edges of its awareness. "You are in Qi Condensation, which makes you a candidate. Only the malleable first Great Realm will do."
"I think we're going to have a wonderful partnership, Well-Wisher!" Fang Tai exclaimed, spreading his arms. "Administer your test!"
"My, you are a bold one!" The tree laughed. "Very well, I shall explain the rules…
——
When the ship sailed back into position, the crew set off a powerful audio signal in the direction of the island to alert Fang Tai. Thirty minutes later, the catapult pulled in something else.
Hunched over and bloated, his braid undone into a wild mess, and his muscles twitching strangely, Fang Tai already looked in poor health. What cemented it, though, was the five foot tall tree growing out of his back, forcing him to stoop in order to walk at all.
"By all the spirits of the sea!" The captain exclaimed, horrified. "What's happened to ya, boy!?"
"Exactly… what I came here for." Fang Tai rasped, forcing himself to his feet and, with some difficult, climbing out of the catapult. "Don't worry, I don't need help. I'm not ill."
"Shit, I'll take your word for it…" The old sailor sighed wearily, keeping a considerable distance. "The recklessness of youth, it boggles me mind…" he muttered, trundling off to shout at whomever he caught doing an imperfect job first. For such a rough and tumble man, the captain was surprisingly fussy - Fang Tai supposed one needed to be, when at sea.
After hauling himself back to the small quarters that had been loaned to him, the former scion collapsed onto his hands and knees, beads of sweat falling from his face to stain the hard wood below him. Walking was still a challenge, but it was getting easier. For the first two days he hadn't been able to stand at all, and it was only on the fourth that he could get anywhere without falling over. His body was adjusting to being the Well-Wisher's vessel at a fairly good pace, or so it had said.
I still can't believe that was the secret." Fang Tai mumbled breathlessly. The squirming within his flesh as the roots spread was, distressingly, less painful than it should have been.
"Indeed." Spoke the face of the old man, which now grew from the trunk on his back. "A Qi Condensation cannot get through my field with a protective layer up. Only the truly fearless and ambitious can receive the blessing I carry."
Fang Tai laughed, for as unpleasant as this ordeal was, it was a sign that his fate was trending upward for once. "Don't face the test as a battle, but as an embrace, I believe you said?"
"Indeed. You willingly tore yourself open to reach me, which no other has done. They all think they, pathetic Qi Condensation insects, can conquer nature and reality." The tree practically spat the last few words, so contemptuous was the idea to him. "Accepting your limits and overcoming them requires true sacrifice. If you'd let yourself be broken and still failed to reach me, I would have left you to die."
"You're an honest man. Tree. Spirit. You're honest." Fang Tai replied, too exhausted to be unsettled by those words. "I like honest people."
——
After getting back onto land, Fang Tai was quickly picked up by a retinue of sorts, a large group dispatched by the Time Shatter Sect to help Fang Tai complete his difficult journey. Indeed, their help had already been indispensable in warding off any number of nuisances that would have slowed a lone traveler down, be they bandits, spirit beasts or simply toll roads he lacked the funds to pay for. He was still incensed about those prices - the war had driven the cost of everything up, even things which could not, by definition, run out.
All of these bodyguards belonged to the same organization as Shi Jiang and Chen Jinhua, the ones who had used him for experiments and, in doing so, given him a second chance at life. This organization, unofficially coined the Paradox Task Force by its members, had a rather impressive collection of combatants. Nevertheless, Shi Jiang overshadowed the rest by a wide enough margin that he was considered the face of the organization, even moreso than its actual director, Elder Wufei.
Technically, their official partnership was already over. Fang Tai had told the Task Force everything he had foreseen and let them do all the tests they wanted, and in exchange they had freed him from his curse. But Chen Jinhua was a more generous person than she first seemed. Fang Tai had given them far greater insights than had been anticipated; not just into Gaius Antonius and the Kings, but in the fields of chemistry and spiritual biology as well. And so, Fang Tai was given one final gift: an escort.
Alongside the blind seer walked several Experts from the Task Force, all of them formidable fighters. Behind each Expert trailed a team of handpicked subordinates, further bolstering their numbers to forty in all. At the head of it all was Dai Xiaohui, master of the Mind-Flaying Glaive. Tall in stature and commanding in bearing but unflattering in the face department(or so he had heard), she cut a distinctive figure, as she left her long hair completely unbound to fell where it may. This was, in fact, because Dai Xiaohui's hair was entirely prehensile, but she had a mean tendency to not tell people, so that they would get spooked when they later saw her using it to perform mundane tasks. To her back was latched the signature Glaive, the long blade wrapped in layers of thick cloth and covered in array slips to suppress its frightful powers.
Each of the Task Force's experts had trained for the possibility that they might have to go against a King. A few had ascended from the Twelfth Heavenstage themselves - veritable strategic weapons, more prized than ever by all factions in the modern era where welders of Dao Magic were becoming more and more common. Those who did not were still quite strong in their own right, and often employed Soul Arts or equipment designed to mitigate the damage caused by Dao Emanations.
However, for all of their preparation, only a scant few could be said to really be the equal of a King; the rest simply pursued the already difficult goal of 'survive the attention of an angered Dao Tyrant and return to home base alive.' While Shi Jiang was the most major outlier, Dai Xiaohui was arguably number two, when going by raw power. Adequate protection against any Experts who might, for any reason, impede Fang Tai's journey.
"Is it true?" A voice cut through the mental noise, piercing through to finally gain Fang Tai's attention.
"Hm?" Fang Tai cleared his throat, then nervously whet his lips. One downside of a lack of sight was an inability to know what kind of face people were making at him. "Er, Is what?"
"Is it true that Golden Devil men are into buggery?" The voice asked in an amused tone. Fang Tai put that voice to a name slower than he should have - Big Chen, not to be confused with Little Chen, the other Task Force member of the same name. Ironically, it was Big Chen who had the higher pitched voice between the two, so he mixed them up sometimes. "I mean, I cast no judgment. I've known some fine men in my time who were cutsleeves. But people keep telling me that Devils have an, er,
unusually strong predilection toward such things."
Fang Tai wanted to scoff, but to do so in front of a Senior, especially once performing an indebted favor, would be pointlessly rude. He used to be rude, but he just didn't have the energy to be audacious these days.
Honestly, how did men like Big Chen get so old whilst maintaining the mental maturity of schoolchildren? No shame in indulging the man's curiosity, he supposed. "It's not more common, I think. They just think about it differently."
He could practically hear Big Chen's eyebrow raising. "Differently, you say? How so?"
"As far as they're concerned, it's fine to be with other men, unless you're, well…" Fang Tai grimaced, trying to find a way to put things that wouldn't be too crude. "To a Devil, it's normal by itself, but it's weakness to be the
receiver. An old superstition, I guess."
"A bit ungrateful, isn't it?" Another man - Ashen Meadows, a Sword Artist and painter who Shi Jiang had said was very good at both - laughed. "You find a man kind enough to let you bugger him, and then you call him a sissy."
"I don't know, do I look like a Devil to you?" Fang Tai shrugged. "The Hong Xuan aren't Devils, just vassals to them. They're left to their own devices, as long as the taxes are paid."
The mention of Hong Xuan sent a pang of homesickness through Fang Tai's heart. Despite everything he had learned, some craven part of him wished to go home. To be with his friends and family again, to wait out the end in peace.
That was no longer an option. He could do nothing but defy; it was all he had left.
——
To hope that the journey would go unmolested was the height of folly - all great accomplishments are met with great hardships on the way. They would not be great otherwise.
In a dark forest in the middle of Great Drunkard land, they arrived. Peeling out of the darkness with eerie alacrity, a gang of interlopers made themselves known; the fact that they could have been attacked unprovoked was not lost on anyone in Shi Jiang's group. Dozens of the strangers emerged onto the dirt trail they'd been following, and the rustling in the treetops as more of them positioned themselves closer told of quite a few more.
"That's enough!" Said an old man at the front of the group. "Halt, we must speak with you."
The most interesting factor, though, was their manner of dress. The way the wind caught their clothes told a story of fur wrappings, clothes hewn of simple, rough-spun cloth, and armor that smelled sharply of iron, rather than the more mixed scent of steel. Between that and the odd dialect they spoke, Fang Tai assumed that this was a technologically primitive group, perhaps some secluded tribe. Not exactly the type of people to attack a group with modern equipment without a very good reason.
"Apologies for the interruption, but we cannot let you get through. Please comply, and there won't be any trouble." Said one of their number, a lanky man crouching atop a tree branch.
Fang Tai sent out a heavy qi pulse - no need to be subtle at a time like this. One main group stood blocking the road, with many others lurking in trees all around. These guys were stealthy, if nothing else. He kept his mouth shut: he wouldn't have any idea what to say for himself at a time like this. Maybe someone else could negotiate their group out of this.
"If you're here to rob us, I assure you it won't be worth the effort." Dai Xiaohui said with open hostility, her hair fanning out like the tail feathers of an exotic bird. "You have a chance to get out with your lives intact."
"Robbery?" One of them called out. "We're not here for your treasures, we're here to do away with the one bearing the Well-Wisher."
The old man in front, possibly the leader, called out to them in a raspy voice. "We are the Order of The Axe. The accursed Well-Wisher shall not take root. No matter your reasons, the dire consequences cannot be accepted. Please leave that man with us."
Several Experts, a few dozen Juniors, all scattered around the woods. What in the world would an entire group like this want To stop Fang Tai's ascension?
"Unbelievable! They found me again!?" The Well-Wisher exclaimed in disbelief. "Why are they so persistent?"
"You know these guys?" Fang Tai asked, getting behind Dai Xiaohui and backing up a few steps.
The ent scowled bitterly. "I am afraid so. As you've heard, they call themselves the Order of The Axe. A bunch of pathetic upstarts who refuse to let me do my duty, even though they are indebted to me."
The old man continued unabated. "I ask you again, please listen! The Well-Wisher's blessing is something that should not walk the earth; though it exists to destroy a scourge, it is a scourge in and of itself."
As the group's attention was pulled to the front, one of them crept up from behind. Drawing a strangely curved dagger, a shadow peeled off from the surrounding darkness, lunging for Fang Tai-
Only to be stopped dead in its tracks by the mighty
squelch of a warhammer to the face. Big Chen's hefty weapon, swung with mechanical accuracy, turned the hidden assailant's head to pulp. Fang Tai jumped a few feet, startled so badly he felt he might leap out of his skin.
"You stupid little fuck." Big Chen scoffed, resting his hammer on his shoulder. "A basic trick like that won't work on us."
"Form up!" Dai Xiaohui commanded. "Circular formation!"
In command, the Task Force turned their backs to one another and grouped up into an outward-facing circle, immune to any ambushes. Fang Tai tried to join in, only to be shoved inside of the circle by Big Chen.
"You're a VIP, buddy. That, and you aren't in any shape to fight." The Expert explained over his shoulder. "Just leave this to us."
It seemed they had a much longer and harder trip ahead of them than expected.
——
They'd found a cave, somehow. A stroke of luck, or perhaps the hand of fate. Either way, the Task Force stood strong, if not whole. Nearly a third of their number had been lost to the Order of The Axe's ambushes already, and the destination lay farther from them still. Many of the survivors has also sustained injuries, such was the nature of warfare.
Fang Tai ran his thumb over the piece of jerky in his hand, and found he didn't have enough appetite to eat any at all. He sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry. I truly am."
The forty soldiers Fang Tai had been escorted out of Time Shatter by, which had seemed so excessive at the time, now felt inadequate. Twenty eight still lived, and he wondered how many more would die for him before this business was over with.
"It is what it is. We made a deal, and I follow through on my deals." Said Dai Xiaohui with a shrug. She stared into the wall, not making contact with anyone. "Violence happens sometimes. Don't apologize for being victimized."
"I'm no victim." Fang Tai mumbled, hugging his knees. "I sought out a legend, and didn't think about the consequences. I've taken advantage of your generosity."
"Don't worry about it, man." Dai Xiaohui commanded with a wry grin. "It's better for both of us if we hold a grudge on the people trying to kill us. You think too much."
If anyone had a dissenting opinion, they weren't about to voice it in front of this woman's commanding presence.
Small fires crackled, providing ambiance which broke through the oppressive quiet of this grim night. The roots digging through Fang Tai's flesh made it hard to sleep, but he eventually managed.
——
When Fang Tai arrived at the spot of his tribulation, he was all alone. This was not because his entire company was dead, thank goodness, but because the survivors had stayed behind to cover for him, blocking a narrow pass to let him through. It was shameful, he knew, to rely on other to such an extent; it seemed that every week, Fang Tai learned a new lesson in how weak he was, how unworthy he was of the revelations he had received.
In the past, when the stakes weren't so unbelievably high, he would have fought alongside those comrades, dying with honor in his heart and free of regrets. Now, all Fang Tai could do was hope desperately that some would make it out; if he succeeded here, he would have to make their sacrifices not be a waste.
"So this is the place?" The seer asked wearily, wiping the sweat from his brow. The heat, the feeling in the soil, the slightly dirty air, it was painfully familiar.
"Yes." Said the tree trunk over his shoulder. "This place has the ideal conditions in both climate and cosmological alignment. I picked it out long ago."
A volcano, Fang Tai supposed, was certainly an appropriately dramatic place for a tribulation. It was dormant for the time being, about twenty feet of solid rock between the magma and the surface within the caldera. Even so, life thrummed beneath the earth, like a heartbeat. The soil, burnt time and time again, was black - this much Fang Tai knew, even if he couldn't see it. Combine that with a humid environment, and you have the perfect place for life to sprout. indeed, patches of woods almost thick enough to call a jungle dotted the landscape.
"And the conflict will be over once I ascend?" Fang Tai asked, though he had heard the answer more than once already.
"Indeed." Answered the Well-Wisher. "The people who live at the foot of this volcano are bound by honor and magic to assist the one I have chosen."
"They sure don't act that way."
"A loophole - until you ascend, you are not my vessel. I should have been more diligent when that pact was written."
"Then let's do it now." Fang Tai declared, shrugging his pack off of his shoulders and setting it down to rummage through.
No matter how skilled he became at operating without eyesight, there were certain niches that no other sense, no matter how sharp, could provide. For example, it was only through careful, rote measurement that Fang Tai could be certain his protective charms were placed in the right geometric configuration. It was only through careful practice and the Well-Wisher's verbal assistance that his protective array was not skewed.
Just another thing the Devil had taken from him. He'd done it for no reason at all, just to satisfy his wounded ego. Gaius Antonius was so fragile that he couldn't protect his own sense of self without breaking him down. That alone proved Fang Tai right.
A perversion of order, a fool born to inherit a plan he couldn't even comprehend. It would be laughable if he weren't so dangerous.
He clenched his fist so hard it felt like his bones might shatter. "I will get past this. I will get past everything; I have something worth living for now, Gaius. For the sake of all of us, I will put out your flame."
The
thunk thunk thunk of knives embedding themselves into Fang Tai's chest seemed deafening enough to shatter the sky. The seer toppled backwards, scattering his carefully prepared treasures this way and that and scuffing out parts of his binding arrays.
"I made it. I actually made it…" The voice came from atop the nearby hill, sailing through the humid air. There stood a warrior of the Order of the Axe - one had slipped past, it seemed.
Or perhaps they hadn't. Sending out a qi pulse far too late, Fang Tai realized this woman was
crawling, legs dragging through the dirt behind them. Her arm came up, and Fang Tai pushed himself back with the last of his strength. Three more knives hit the ground where his chest had been.
Bad idea. Something in his chest had definitely been cut open when he moved just now. The flow of blood grew dramatically in scope, soaking through his tunic and pooling on the ground.
"Shit, that's all I had left?" the assassin muttered, approaching slowly. No more projectiles came. "Just die already; you've been fooled and there's no going back." She wasn't even crawling with both arms, just one. What kind of mental toughness let her carry on with her mission after so much damage.
Fang Tai tried to retort, but all that came out was hacking, blood-tinged coughs. The scent of ozone grew stronger, the water in the air more dense. Could he do it? Under these circumstances, while under attack? It was suicide.
"A poison to fight the poison. Madness to fight madness. Where does it end?" she sputtered, dragging herself forth relentlessly with her one good arm. She stabbed her dagger into the earth, dragging himself forward before stabbing it in again, as if she were using a tool to scale a sheer cliffside. Fang Tai, lying there as his lifeblood watered the thick black soil, could only listen as the assassin approached.
"I won't let the box open!" The woman snarled, a foamy mixture of blood and spittle dripping down her chin as she hauled herself onto Fang Tai. Above, grey clouds darkened to black. Not quite; the angle wasn't correct yet. "I will defend the honor and dignity of the Order of the Axe!"
Even if Fang Tai had eyes, they would not have met the frenzied glare his attacker carried, even as she raised her dagger to pierce Fang Tai's heart, for they would have been staring beyond him. They would have beheld the furious sky, the doom of death and rebirth churning far above. They would have seen the bright blue of Heaven's lightning flashing within, bringing clarity to his fading consciousness.
Roots emerged from Fang Tai's wounds, burrowing into the soil in preparation for the coming impact. It was a painful relief, like a broken bone being set back into place.
The sword of penitence fell, delivering cosmic wrath unto the blasphemer, the heretic, the demonic and the deviant. Heavenly lightning coursed through the body of a man utterly unguarded and unprepared to receive it, burning him from the inside. Fang Tai reached up and wrapped his arms and legs around the assassin, letting the lightning pass through her and into him. She spasmed violently and vomited blood, her many wounds rendering her unable to properly resist this attack. The disgusting scent of oxidized flesh overwhelmed Fang Tai's nose, but he held on despite the woman's desperate thrashing.
Taking Tribulation lightning directly instead of properly resisting it was a foolhardy thing, even with the other man soaking up a significant fraction of the energy in Fang Tai's stead. In a few moments, Fang Tai's final obstacle died, and without any qi circulation, his flesh lost the lively sturdiness of an Expert. The incoming bolts blew apart the body of Fang Tai's enemy, until nothing remained to shield him, and he was struck by the unmitigated force.
It didn't hurt that much, for he was already growing numb. He felt the essence of himself diffusing,becoming less distinct. Perception grew hazier and hazier in the following minutes. Fang Tai felt himself growing and stiffening, becoming slower in thought and duller in awareness. He became one with the ground, and the pain of the lightning faded more and more, until it stopped entirely.
Scoured but alive, Hong Xuan Fang Tai slipped into a cold, dark and fitful dream.
——
If you were to visit the Great Drunkard Sect, you might hear of a mountain of fire, a temperamental, all-hating goblet filled with the bubbling essence of the inner earth. Its name was Death-Spewer, and it was the destroyer of any city or settlement built in its vicinity. This had been tested: any permanent buildings constructed around Death-Spewer were soon destroyed by an eruption, but the simple, nomadic tribe who lived nearby were never harmed. Thus, the Great Drunkard Sect had never bothered to officially bring the Death-Spewer worshippers into the fold, despite the richness of their soil and the mineral wealth beneath their land, and instead made vassals of the tribesmen.
But those simple folk, normally kind and accepting, would not let you in if you tried to see the volcano for yourself. Recently, things had changed, and the land around Death-Spewer was now ravaged by unrelenting storms every night, driving the primitives into caves and other secluded places. Amidst all that destruction sat a towering tree, thick of root and trunk. Lightning flashed again and again, flowing down its bare branches and into the primary mass. Blackened by the heat though it was, the wood did not catch fire despite the onslaught, though any who drew near would feel an intense heat which radiated from within.
Every day the story was the same; when the sun rose, the dark clouds parted and a thick canopy of leaves grew upon the tree in minutes. The bright sunlight filled the tree with strength, revivifying it and mending the wounds of its previous ordeal. After the sunset, the clouds formed once more and the storm assailed the tree, quenching its roots with torrential rain, enough to kill less hardy plants even without the lightning.
Indeed, that had in fact happened; what had once been a verdant forest was now a strange marsh, empty of complex life aside from its single mighty inhabitant. Beaten down by this constant punishment, all other plantlife had long since died out, and so the tree's roots spread deep and wide into the rich black soil. With each passing year the tree grew larger, and the heat within more intense, until a dim orange light began to throb from the center of its trunk like a heartbeat.
The worshippers of that fell mountain of fire were held to but one commandment: bring more stones. Each day, they dug into the caldera, extracting Fire-aspected spirit stones which were then buried all around the great tree. Such were the terms of an ancient pact made with the Well-Wisher in a time shortly after the life of the Demonic Soup Chef. Their masters, the Great Drunkard Sect, did not interfere in this business, for such things mattered little so long as tithes and taxes were paid.
As such, Death-Spewer's servants had grown much poorer in the past six decades, their wealth extracted by two different masters without much left for themselves, despite the abundant resources of their territory. They were, at least, granted succor by the tree's divine fruits, each one a precious gift endowed with fire and lightning. They resembled plums, vaguely, with a firm outer layer but soft flesh. They were of a pale color, with green coloration around the part closest to the stem, making them resemble some bulbous eyeball.
Eating of these fruits, the Elders of the tribe grew strong; strong enough to be of great use in the ongoing war against the cannibals. Strong enough that the Drunkards turned a blind eye to the ongoing ritual.
—-
"Long ago, pillagers arrived on wings of gold, to extinguish the life of a great beast and its children. The Turtle Emperor did not want to fight, and yet he was assaulted, scarred by their rapacious conquest."
Bright blue flashed across the tree's interior as a retaliatory bolt of lightning struck the tree. The sparks spread throughout the plant, dispersing their energy, before rushing inward. At the center sat a sac of amber, which squirmed as the power of heaven was fed into it. Within, surrounded by the primordial fluids of the womb, was a half-built body.
A mostly-complete skull shrouded a brain, with bits of flesh and skin beginning to sprout in small chunks. Below the skull hung the dense bundle of nerves that formed the spinal cord, vertebra encasing the upper half. From the spine, nerves flared out in all directions, trailing off like bits of thread. Collarbones jutted out proudly like the gleaming pauldrons of a mighty general, one of them capped off by the ball joint of a shoulder. Over half of the ribs had also taken shape, protecting the mush within which would soon become distinct organs.
Deconstruction followed by construction, performed in the most tender and meticulous way possible. Granted to a champion who the Well-Wisher knew could handle it.
"They were defeated, with great difficulty, the remnants beset with curses which ensured they would not rise up once again. This world was far reduced, but with a distant hope of recovery. Conditions gradually improved as our world entered a state of brumation, with the World Fusion Cultivators acting as guardians of the natural order."
Once more the tree was struck, an automatic response to the sharing of forbidden knowledge which it deliberately triggered. The few tendrils of muscle that had managed to sprout thus far squirmed in delightful agony, swelling and lengthening ever so slightly. The yawning hole in the side of the skull shrunk the tiniest bit as new marrow bubbled forth. The harsh blue light soon faded once more, though, and the sac grew dormant once more.
A scant few million cell divisions with each strike; an agonizingly slow rebirth. But it was worth it, anything was, to stop what was coming.
"But as you know, their wickedness is immortal."
BOOM
"The selfish greed of what were once the Fifth Sea's shock troopers, eternally assured in their superiority, has changed their mission. The Iron Pillar, created to outmaneuver the invaders, has become a tool of game hunting. Now, the Devils resurge, wielding the wicked power of the Chef."
BOOM
"The Demonic Soup Chef, consumer of one of the few remaining Turtle Children. Mighty as he was, he rewrote the fabric of fate with his actions, setting forth a new path."
BOOM
"The Single Pillar Path, the Path of Kingship, is a path which leads to Armageddon. The Kings, one and all, are the embryonic form of the ultimate destroyer."
BOOM
None of this was new. This story, and many others, had been shared with Hong Xuan Fang Tai over and over. Eldritch secrets, forbidden to humanity, were hammered into his mind over and over. There could be no chance he would forget it through the haze of pain.
What went unsaid was the missing piece. Of the region's Kings, two were the most likely to bring forth the end. Devils both, of course. They had to die; them and their Clan, who threatened the future of this world and beyond.
The telling of the story ceased for the time being; even such a mastercrafter conduit as this could only take so much lightning in one day. A new, softer light glowed from below, as the tree's roots took in the power of the spirit stones buried amongst them, drip-feeding the energy into the slumbering chosen one. Instead, the voice of the Well-Wisher took on a soothing tone.
"You are so very brave. We are well past halfway done, child." They crooned.
"You will be the first of your kind, a new breed of warrior. Already, you surge with potency."
The shoulder joint rotated, pointing up with the little nub of bone that would eventually become a humerus. The skull, too, imperceptibly tilted upward.
"Do not be impatient, young one. I promise, one day you shall be complete, and then you shall walk the earth and sky once more, perfect and Unbound."
——
I figured I'd give a little update on what Fang Tai's been up to in the time since he had his procedure done. I considered making this bit of storytelling an entire arc, but decided I could get it all across with a series of vignettes instead. This is gonna get like two likes anyway, so no point writing thirty thousand words nobody cares about. The resulting product feels a little bit awkward, but at least it gets across all of the imagery I was hoping to include.
The Well-Wisher and the Unbound is a bit of worldbuilding I've been turning over in my head like a rotisserie chicken for a while now, but thankfully Fang Tai won't be hatching until turn 17, so I won't have to cram him into a point in the timeline that's already crowded. I do plan to bring in Dai Xiaohui again sooner than that though; she's not as important of a character as Shi Jiang, but I feel bad for sidelining the story arc that would have been her time to shine. I'll have to figure out something to do with her, since I already came up with so much information on her.
Honestly, I should spend more time refining my in-progress ideas than thinking up new ones - I have so many thoughts that will probably never go on the page.
