Lu Chang watched the bridge above him fade into the distance as he fell. The area here between the mountains was filled with tempestuous squalls that ripped into his flesh as he plummeted downwards. Lu Chang tried to immerse himself in the winds to avoid being sliced to death, but found his spiritual energy was much too weak to affect these winds even slightly.
He could sense the winds, at least, with his experience from the legacy trial. A moment of clarity came upon him then, and Lu Chang drew his dagger and launched a slicing wind of his own toward one of the gales that was about to hit him. It didn’t dissipate the wind entirely, but did weaken it enough that Lu Chang was able to withstand the impact much easier.
Lu Chang fired off slicing winds constantly as he fell, also desperately looking for a way to avoid splattering into a fine mist on contact with the ground. A shape below him caught Lu Chang’s eye. A winged spirit beast of some kind wheeled through the wind some distance below him.
Lu Chang did his best to angle himself on a path to intercept the beast, arms outstretched to catch on to it. It caught sight of him and screeched a warning, but Lu Chang was moving too fast and it too slow. Lu Chang struck the beast like a falling star, grabbing hold of it in the process.
Both Lu Chang and the beast entered a freefall for a moment while they recovered from the impact. The beast squawked angrily, then levelled out, its wings catching the wind again and slowing their fall. There was but one issue; Lu Chang had broken one of its wings on impact, so they were still falling, only slower.
Lu Chang straddled the back of the beast, ignoring its constant screeches as he scanned the mountainsides for somewhere to land quickly. He was further in to the mountain range now, and all he could see below was dense forests. The mountains nearby were both so steep as to be sheer walls, with nowhere to land. Lu Chang did spot one difference in the wall of the mountainside, though.
From any other angle it would have been impossible, but Lu Chang’s position allowed him to see a small opening in the mountainside, barely visible in the gloom caused by the dark storms far overhead. He grabbed the beast’s head and forced it to fly in the direction of the mountain. They were still falling at a rapid rate, and Lu Chang didn’t want to miss his best shot at living.
Closer and closer the beast’s ungainly glide took him, until, just before it hit the mountain wall, Lu Chang leapt off its back. Lu Chang heard a heavy crunch where the beast impacted the wall as he made his own crash landing into the tunnel.
He hit the ground of the tunnel and skidded further in, causing a white-hot flash of pain all over. Lu Chang lay there, nearly unable to move from the injuries caused by the wind and his landing. He hadn’t died on impact, but Lu Chang was unsure if he wouldn’t expire from the wounds.
Suddenly, he remembered the Visceral Essence Fruit he’d found in the plains. Retrieving it from his pouch, Lu Chang carefully ate it. As his vision faded from the exhaustion and wounds, he felt the hot medicinal energy explode through his body, then Lu Chang knew no more.
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Lu Chang woke with a gasp. Looking down at his wounds, he saw that they’d all been healed. He stood up and looked out over the cliffside. It was dark now, suggesting he’d been unconscious for a while, though he knew not how long it’d actually been. He could see no way down the mountain from here, so he turned to head further inward, taking a small lantern from his pouch.
Lu Chang only had to go a few short steps before he encountered a barrier. The whole tunnel could more accurately be described as a small threshold in the mountainside that extended to a door made of black metal.
It was a regularly sized door, nothing on the consistently grand scale he’d seen in the temple’s outer sect. In the light of his lantern, the metal of the door had a strange multicolored sheen, almost like a pool of oil in the sunlight.
The door was covered in decorations. Devils of all kinds, warlike asuras, and hellish features were all engraved on it, and Lu Chang thought he could feel a strange frigid spiritual energy from it.
Atop the door was yet another line of that ancient script. Lu Chang read it closely.
“Ye have spurned one path, yet the Dao is limitless. Heed not the decisions left untaken, and brandish the blessings of choice, ever remaining in pursuit of Heaven. Ye who have endured one tribulation, drink deep the reward of Hell.”
Lu Chang frowned. This text was simultaneously clearer and more cryptic than the one atop the bridge. Clearly, he’d ‘endured one tribulation’ by merely finding this place, or perhaps by surviving the violent winds. What did it mean by ‘drink deep the reward of Hell’ though?
He inspected the door again, running his hands over all the decorations, feeling nothing but the smooth metal and that strange frigid energy. Lu Chang raised his lantern and looked all around the small tunnel, hoping he’d just missed an obvious reward. Finding nothing, Lu Chang settled down to sit and contemplate the text.
He brightened as a thought struck him. While searching for an answer to the riddle of the door, Lu Chang had time to properly consume and digest the Ninefold-Qi fruit. Removing it from his pouch, he stared at the shimmering fruit, feeling the vibrant potency of its spiritual energy.
Lu Chang put it in his mouth and chewed slowly, focusing on the feeling of its energy as it intertwined with his. Like throwing oil into a hot pan, his spiritual energy began to boil. It wasn’t a painful sensation, merely uncomfortable. His roiling energy became more and more active, then slowly had a qualitative change.
Whereas his spiritual energy before had been relatively vigorous for a meridian opening cultivator, it now held a deep potency to it. All of his techniques would benefit from the new might of his spiritual energy. This kind of qualitative change was not something that could be looked for, only found. Any change to the nature of spiritual energy usually only came from the highest quality cultivation techniques or natural treasures.
Lu Chang sat there and refamiliarized himself with his spiritual energy while he thought about the door’s riddle. The only interesting thing he could find about the door was the strange energy that permeated it.
The energy was frigid feeling, and clung to the door like a cloak. He eyed the door thoughtfully. Perhaps the key to the riddle lied in the energy itself? It sounded reasonable to Lu Chang. He closed his eyes and stretched out his senses, feeling the touch of the unnatural energy.
Unnatural.
Lu Chang furrowed his brows. What about the energy made him intuitively feel it was unnatural? He sensed it again. The frigidness of the energy felt nothing like the chill of frost or the bite of a cold wind. No, it felt like the essence of despair, the cold bitterness of loneliness, and the icy touch of the grave. It also held an insidious stickiness to it that seemed like it could infiltrate anything. It felt like what Lu Chang imagined Hell itself would feel like.
He reeled back as the realization hit him. The mentions of Hell and the decorations made sense now. The spiritual energy clinging to the door was energy from Hell, or some energy much like it. Lu Chang felt an abrupt longing to see this Temple of Limitless Paths in its prime. It must have been very grand to have such secrets still, millennia since its demise.
Lu Chang looked back at the door, frustrated. He’d solved the mystery of the energy, but was no closer to actually opening the door. He was struck dumb, though, as a ludicrous thought hit him. Perhaps the energy itself was the ‘reward of Hell’? It sounded crazy, but Lu Chang was out of ideas.
He took a deep breath, hoping he was on the right track, and felt for the energy again, drawing it into his meridians slowly. The frigid energy was almost too pliant, as if it truly desired to be absorbed. Lu Chang only drew in a small amount, when the energy poured into his meridians of its own volition.
As soon as the Hell energy mixed with his own energy, Lu Chang screamed in pain. It was worse than any pain he’d ever felt, as if his insides were constantly freezing and thawing over and over. He put the handle of his dagger in his mouth to bite down on, so he wouldn’t bite his tongue.
Lu Chang pushed through the excruciating pain to better feel what was happening to him. He could feel the frigid energy still flowing into him, like a river suddenly un-dammed. In his meridians it coated the outside of his energy, flowing rapidly throughout the meridians. Wherever it passed, the meridians would crack as the sides were expanded, then heal, then expand and crack again. It was this cycle that caused most of the pain.
At the same time as it was expanding his meridians, the flood of energy was still happening, and Lu Chang was running out of room for it. The only chance he had was to start digging out his extraordinary meridians, something he wouldn’t have had to do for a few more months before now.
Lu Chang grit his teeth as pain wracked his meridians again; he’d have to risk it. Remembering Mei’s instructions, Lu Chang carefully located the first extraordinary meridian. Whereas the regular meridians were like wells that had already been dug, then filled with loose dirt; the extraordinary meridians were comparable to excavating a totally new well, only guided by a few markings on the ground. The amount of spiritual energy needed to do such was vastly beyond what any meridian opening cultivator was capable of without rare medicines, or a situation like Lu Chang found himself in.
Grasping hold of the wildly flowing energy, Lu Chang thrust it at the location of the new meridian, unable to spare the concentration needed to be precise. The Hell energy was potent beyond belief, many dozen times stronger than his own, even after the augmentation of the Ninefold-Qi fruit. Even so, the ease at which the meridian was cleared astonished Lu Chang.
In only a few moments, the entire first extraordinary meridian was opened, but Lu Chang was still drowning in the frigid energy. Shocked, he sought out the second meridian and let the energy loose on it. Lu Chang was even more surprised when the second meridian was cleared just as quickly, so he moved on to the third, then the fourth and fifth.
The pattern continued all the way up until the seventh meridian was opened. After it opened, the relentless tide of energy stopped, seemingly used up. Lu Chang could sense no more energy from the door, and was afraid of looking deeper lest he trigger another deluge.
Lu Chang sat there, flabbergasted at the development. He was thoroughly convinced that the energy was from Hell, now. Only energy from a higher plane could sit here decaying for millennia and still be potent enough to open seven extraordinary meridians at once.
He looked inward. Other than the seven newly opened meridians, his other meridians had expanded greatly, and felt much tougher. This would allow him to move spiritual energy much more quickly and in greater amounts, the benefit of which couldn’t be overstated.
His spiritual energy, too, had changed once again. There was none of the frigid energy left, but his own energy felt like it had gained a shadow of the Hell energy’s insidious nature. Lu Chang felt that his energy might last much longer now outside his body, lingering in wounds and obstructing its removal.
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Overall, Lu Chang felt like a new person, reborn. His strength had advanced considerably, and he felt the urge to laugh maniacally, though he restrained it. Lu Chang sprang up, and looked at the door again.
Now bereft of the energy, the door seemed to have lost its sheen, and looked brittle. Lu Chang stared thoughtfully at it, then strode up and gave it a sharp rap. It crumbled apart like sand. The energy had clearly been keeping it together. Past the doorway was more tunnel, just as dark, so Lu Chang pressed on, holding out his lantern.
He walked, and walked, then walked more. Lu Chang felt he must have walked several miles at least by the time the winding tunnel ended. In front of him was a doorway with only a single word carved atop it, ‘Power.’ Lu Chang mused over the meaning for a moment, but with no further context, gave it up as a wash. Stepping out from the tunnel into a larger room, Lu Chang looked around curiously.
It was a cavernous room, roughly hewn from the mountain. The floor was covered in tiles of glimmering green crystal. Four large pillars were the only other thing in the room, extending from floor to ceiling and holding sconces that burned with some sort of green spiritual fire.
Lu Chang walked further in, inspecting the pillars. As he got close to the center, though, he heard a heavy thud as some contraption raised a door of stone to block the tunnel he’d come from. He whirled around at the sound and felt an ill omen when the door was raised. The same thing had happened when he’d taken the legacy trial of the outer sect. Was this another of the ‘tribulations’ he needed to pass to get to the inner sect?
A minute passed, but nothing happened. Just as he was about to let his guard down, the room’s wall to his right started to rumble and descend. Lu Chang drew his dagger, ready to face whatever came out, but nothing leapt from the darkness when the wall retracted.
Confused, Lu Chang retrieved his lantern and shone it towards the darkness. The light illuminated a giant shape. Inching closer, it was revealed to be some kind of insect spirit beast, a giant beetle with shiny, metallic skin. It was clearly dead, though.
There were no visible wounds on it. Clearly it had grown old in the years since the demise of the temple and expired, a poor fate. Examining it up close, Lu Chang praised his luck. Spirit beasts all grew more powerful with age, and had this one not died, it would have been much too powerful for him to fight.
Thinking the beetle-king’s shell could be made into armor, Lu Chang withdrew Tempest from his pouch and used it to cut off great sheets of the metallic carapace, an auspicious start to his partnership with the saber. He apologized to it sheepishly, but explained he truly had no other way to cut the shell.
After he’d stored the sheets and Tempest away, Lu Chang noticed another doorway hidden behind the dead beetle-king. Looking through, another tunnel greeted him. Cursing the temple’s fixation on tunnels, Lu Chang went on his way.
Another few miles of tunnel brought Lu Chang to another doorway with a word carved in it. This time it read, ‘Will.’ He was starting to see the pattern. The first door said ‘Power’ and was supposed to test his skill in battle. This one must be a test for his will.
Lu Chang took a deep breath to center himself. There was no guarantee whatever this test had in store would be conveniently dead or decayed like the last one. From what he’d seen of the temple, Lu Chang would likely bet on ‘not.’
He stepped forward through the doorway, and found himself in a room much bigger than the one from earlier. There were no pillars here, only a long, straight staircase, at the top of which Lu Chang could barely make out the shape of another doorway. Clearly he had to climb the staircase, but Lu Chang was sure there was something else to it. Shrugging, Lu Chang stepped atop the first step. Then, abruptly, his vision went dark, and he was in another place entirely.
He was back in the blood-soaked streets of Hundred Fragrance City, on the night of the attack. Lu Chang was not in control of his body, though, and could only helplessly watch, trapped inside his mind, as his mother was killed and he and Li Feng were captured again.
The scene abruptly changed again. This time the night before reaching the Painted City, where Lu Chang watched Li Feng die, again. Stricken, Lu Chang tried to tell himself it was just an illusion, muttering it like a mantra inwardly, but to no avail.
Over and over, Lu Chang was forced to endure the scenes. Every time they ended there was only a few moments until they started again. Lu Chang didn’t know what was expected of him. Was he supposed to bury his grief and move past it, giving up his revenge? He could not do that.
Lu Chang searched his mind for all he’d learned about the Temple of Limitless Paths. They espoused that there were ‘limitless paths to Heaven, even through Hell.’ Why would he have to give up his grief and revenge?
Thinking on it as the grisly scenes played out in front of him once more, Lu Chang thought he’d had an epiphany. He’d carried his grief and need for revenge with him, so far, almost like weights, which sounded like it wasn’t in accordance with the Temple’s doctrine, ‘Heed not the decisions untaken and brandish the blessings of choice.’ He must choose his path of vengeance, rather than carry it like a forced burden.
He did so.
Like a moment of nirvana, as Lu Chang made his internal resolution, he opened his eyes back on the first step of the stairs. He stood there for a few minutes, ruminating on his decision. Lu Chang felt good, as if he’d dropped a weight he’d not realized he was holding. He could now pursue his goals freely, without the feeling of choking helplessness he’d carried since the night of the attack.
Lu Chang looked up at the top of the staircase, his demeanor now holding a lighter air. He stepped up to the second step, where nothing happened. He continued on to the third step, then upward more. As he crested the tenth step, the halfway point, his vision went black again.
When he could see again, Lu Chang found himself this time in Mei’s room. Only, both of them looked older. Perhaps this was a possible future? He watched as the years passed and he and Mei grew closer and closer, though Lu Chang still longed for a free future in which he could wander to his heart’s content. One day Mei took him on a trip and they found the one-eyed man from the 105th Supply Legion and took his revenge.
Mei comforted him in his grief, and afterwards they were inseparable. Lu Chang devoted his entire life to her, wholeheartedly giving himself to the identity of ‘attendant.’ He was content, and loved Mei, who gave up her position as clan heir so that she would not have to marry, but there was still a piece of Lu Chang that ached for freedom.
It was an open secret in the clan whose children Mei had, but no one made a fuss; he and Mei had served the clan well over the years, though she was never allowed to free him. Lu Chang watched his children grow up and loved them fiercely, celebrating all of their accomplishments, and the part of Lu Chang that still held wanderlust grew smaller and was heard less often.
Eventually his children had children of their own, then his grandchildren grew up and married, and so on. Lu Chang and Mei watched over their extensive family with great love and care. They’d stopped cultivating years before, putting the joy of raising a family before thoughts of strength and power. The piece of Lu Chang that wanted something else, something grander, shrunk ever-smaller, only rarely seen.
On his deathbed, Lu Chang was surrounded by generations of family. He was loved. Though, as he remembered his life, a strange dissatisfaction grew in him. As his future self died, Lu Chang woke, as if from a dream.
He could still remember the experience as if he’d lived it. The vision frightened him. It was frightening in its temptation. He could still remember the happiness and joy that Lu Chang felt in his life. Was cultivating worth giving that up?
In the black void, Lu Chang meditated on the possible future. He remembered that piece of his future self, that small part that wanted to fly free on the wind, to all the corners of the world. It had died a slow death in that future, smothered to death by the weight of love and family, but also of responsibility and the chains of servitude.
That idea made Lu Chang uncomfortable. Was the happiness that his future self felt all that one can aspire to? Was this vision a warning, or a prophecy? For some reason, the future he’d seen was unsettling to Lu Chang. It seemed like his future self had no drive, merely content to settle into where life took him.
Ambition.
Yes, that was what was missing in the vision. Lu Chang had an ambition, to see all there was to see, to experience all there was to experience. He’d said that to Old Man Zhao the day after his martial spirit awakened, and experienced a minor nirvana.
Then, he’d been a frog in a well. He was still a frog in a well, Lu Chang assumed, only a slightly larger frog in a slightly larger well. A dauntless emotion welled up in Lu Chang, and he felt his martial spirit stir. His ambitions from then were too low. He would not only see the world and its experiences, but he would conquer the Heavens and Hells too.
His inner proclamation seemed to shatter the void, and Lu Chang returned to the top of the tenth step. Filled with new determination, Lu Chang sprang up the rest of the stairs in one bound, skipping over the last step. He smiled amusedly. There were limitless paths after all.
As if acknowledging his path as approved, the door at the top of the stairs opened. Lu Chang walked through, then sighed as he found another tunnel. After another few miles of travel, a new doorway loomed ahead.
It read, ‘Comprehension.’ Lu Chang frowned. How would the Temple test their disciples comprehension? Could it be a puzzle of some sorts? Lu Chang was still bursting with adventurous spirit, so he walked right on in.
The room he found himself in was a perfect square, neither large nor small, with no decorations anywhere, and no exit either. After he’d entered, the doorway closed behind him, which he really expected at this point. Lu Chang looked around, then noticed characters appear on the wall before him, saying,
“True mastery comes from within, whether the Celestial’s spells, the Beast’s claws, or the Devil’s curses. Essence aligns with immersion. Display it.”
Another cryptic clue was also expected. Lu Chang mused over the possible meanings. He had no idea what it meant by Celestials, Beasts, and Devils, but ‘mastery’ and ‘essence’ made him think of martial techniques. Perhaps ‘display it’ called for him to display a technique with essence materialization?
Deciding to give it a try, Lu Chang executed his “Heavenly Wind from the Mountain.” As it had the last time, the image of a mountain appeared, but only in a hazy, indistinct manner. Clearly, that wouldn’t cut it.
Lu Chang closed his eyes, meditating on the meaning of the technique. The heavenly wind comes from the mountain, so the mountain must appear before the wind. Why does the wind come from the mountain?
The question resonated within Lu Chang, and he thought back to the sight that had captivated him outside the cave containing the minor realm entrance. The wind there had swirled around the mountaintop, blowing up the side and around the peak, then descending downward.
Abruptly, Lu Chang remembered his harrowing fall from the bridge, fighting the tempestuous winds to keep himself alive. Were those not mountain winds as well, only of a different stage than he’d seen?
Understanding slowly filled Lu Chang. The heavenly wind from the mountain was not ‘a mountain’ and ‘a wind.’ They were one and the same. The mountain did not come first, they both formed at the same time.
While the mountain formed, the wind climbed its sides. When the mountain was complete, the wind circled around the peak. When the mountain displayed its majesty, the wind roared with it, descending to the ground to show the world their might.
With a new understanding, Lu Chang executed the technique again.
“Heavenly Wind from the Mountain!”
This time, the mountain didn’t appear all at once. It materialized from the bottom up, along with a faint trail of wind on its slopes. The majestic mountain extended upward, and the wind climbed with it. The mountain materialized completely, now, unassuming in its power, and the wind circled the peak. Then it began to shine with resplendence, and the wind howled toward the ground.
The power of the technique dumbfounded Lu Chang. The crystal floor tiles cracked at the impact, surprising Lu Chang further. He’d thought them nearly indestructible. Thinking back on the technique, his version seemed to have deviated from the original scroll a bit. The scroll mentioned nothing of the mountain shining, or the wind carrying its splendor. Lu Chang shrugged after a moment, putting it up to happenstance.
In the aftermath of his technique, a new doorway had appeared at the other end of the room. Resigning himself to another several mile trek through dark tunnels, Lu Chang wearily exited the trial. To his surprise, Lu Chang found himself not in another tunnel, but a small room.
It was another square chamber, with a stone table in the middle. In one corner Lu Chang could see a pole from which hung dozens of ancient robes, all in varying states of disrepair. Another sign hung from the ceiling, suspended by chains. It read,
“Rejoice. Ye who have endured the tribulations of Hell have reached the precipice of this path. It is but one dao among many, and greater paths lead onward. Claim a blessing, and continue chasing the Heavens.”
Underneath the sign, on the stone table, was a metal disk with characters on it that read, ‘Inner Disciple.’ Understanding filled Lu Chang. The tribulations he’d passed weren’t just to test his worthiness to see the inner sect, it was to become an inner sect disciple. He imagined there were many other methods to do so. It would not be the Temple of Limitless Paths otherwise.
Lu Chang took the token. Status as an inner disciple could only be useful, here. As he picked it up, a new doorway appeared in front of him. He stepped through to find a long tunnel of stairs going upward. It took Lu Chang about an hour to ascend the stairs, and he stepped out from the exit into the inner sect.