Buried deep in the Jianghu Province of the Great Tang Dynasty lies an uninhabited region of the most prosperous territory of an empire. Vast plains coated in thick qi-filled mist, to say it would be the most beneficial place to cultivate in all the world would be an understatement. Many sects and clans, empires, and kingdoms over the centuries have fought, bleed, and died for this place. Yet none have ever held it for more than a few decades, due to the towering peak that could be seen all across the world.
Towering over all life, it inspires many, yet none have been able to climb it, for the same reason none can hold this land. The powerful myriads of demon beasts. They have long held the region, and will hold it forevermore it seems. Despite the Tangs' efforts, even the mightiest of empires can not hold it for long.
The prowling demons that stalk the mist lead those who wander too deep to the Yellow Springs, and the battlefields that are grown over are frequently gifted new bodies to enter the great embrace. Few ever see the great beasts, and those who do and survive are very few in number. Many legends and rumors fill the taverns and bunkhouses of the Murim. Of beasts, hundreds of meters tall, and that can swallow a man in a single gulp.
Once every year the great mists recede every year for a single month, the beasts no longer stalk the plains and return to the highest peaks of the mountain. This is cause for great celebration for the great sects and clans of the Tang, as when the mists pulled back, plentiful spirit medicines are revealed and many weaker beasts are left behind, ripe for the tempering of many new apprentices and martial nieces and nephews.
But what occurs deep in the Myriad Beast Mountain that causes these powerful demon beasts to retreat deep into the rocky spires and cliffs and allow the human cultivators to plunder their resources and kill their young? Surely it must not be a coincidence or some natural phenomena?
Caravans of wagons and men and women flying in on swords and small boats, or the back of fantastical spirit beasts cluttered a well-traveled road. Numerous towering stone markers flanked the path, each carved with faded and ancient script telling the stories of ancient triumphs and defeats. There was much conversation, the disciples speaking of their plans for the trial, of sect gossip, of plans to betray and to team up. The closer you went to the front the quieter it became. A massive spirit boat floated above the path, staffed with grim-faced soldiers, grasping their spears and shields. Standing watch for potential enemies or threats. On the deck of the boat, a group of young men sat around a table speaking boastfully about their latest conquests and achievements, either in the bedroom or of martial arts.
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These were the children of the high-ranking elders of one of the greatest sects, The Golden Immortal sect. This sect only accepted the most talented individuals or those whom the Tang Imperial family personally recommended. The soldiers were provided for these young masters on this occasion. Few would openly mock these people but they were all tied to a single name, the Lascivious Lotus Group. Their infamy spread across the whole of the Tang, except for one young disciple. He was not lascivious or crude, but quiet and contemplative. His heart was solely dedicated to martial arts, Tang Huaizhen. Sole son of the Emperor's youngest son, he has sprouted as the highest of talents, even beating out the crown prince.
He sat silently, a jade slip in one hand, a steaming cup of tea in the other. His brows were furrowed, clearly in deep contemplation as he tried to drown out the laughter and proactive words of his peers. Eventually, one of his cousins, not even worthy of the Tang name, called out to him.
"Senior brother, why don't you relax some more? There is no reason to study so hard. With your talent, you'll easily become a grandmaster in a handful of years!" snickers filled the air as the other young lords grinned. "Hao Fang, maybe if you spent more time in contemplation than in the bedrooms of our junior sisters you would not be stuck in Early Foundation Establishment" Tang Huaizhen shook his head sadly. "If you and the Lotus are the top talents of the empire I fear for the future of the Tang." he stood up and placed down the jade slip and the now empty cup of tea. Turning to face the bow of the ship he simply shook his head.
Hao Fang's face, and the face of the other young masters stiffened. Smashing his fist against the table, Hao Fang stood up "You dare? Just because you are Late Establishment doesn't allow you to not give me face!" he reached to his hand, and out of a spatial ring drew his blade, pointing it towards the youth. The youth's golden trimmed robe swayed in the wind as he didn't even bother to acknowledge the challenge. He simply continued his walk to the edge of the ship. Turning his head he simply smiled and walked off. His feet finding a hold in the air as he walked slowly, turning around. The sown dragons grinned as they shimmered in the morning sun. "I of course can look down upon you with no concern of face. What can a mere Foundation Establishment do to me?" he smirked before blurring away to a different ship. The sword fell, crashing into the table. The Lotus sat slacked-jawed, in fear. "G-Golden Core? How the hell can he do that? Not even the Crown Prince has reached that point!" one of the young men cried out. He groped for his storage bag to pull out a talisman.
"There is no need for that Martial Nephew. We Elders already know." a voice echoed from the back of the ship, calming the Lotus and its members. "Second Elder!" they called out, quickly bowing in respect. The old man waved a hand and looked at the ship that Tang Huaizhen flew to. "Eldest Martial Brother has certainly picked a good seedling.: he snorted before turning away, vanishing in a puff of wind. The Lotus glanced at each other, silently. Before they returned to muttering. The Noble clans and sects would hear about this for sure.