The first letter arrives directly into his room.
The door is closed, arrays equipped, everything prepared and well-set for privacy and security at the height of the Academy’s capability to deliver it (without being overly bothered). In theory, there should be no way to subvert those arrays without access to their very foundations, and there should have been some sort of disturbances to someone sneaking or breaking in.
And yet, there sits the letter, right there on his table.
Shin Ren is sweating, hard, as he steps back into the significantly colder air of his living quarters, his body emitting steam from the heat he’s absorbed. Behind him, the door to his cultivation chamber closes, the molten stone in the center of it making an indent as the ground slowly goes from a bright red-gold lava. Despite the quality of the seclusion-space, prolonged contact with the feather his… benefactor procured eventually overcomes the room’s limitations.
And his own.
His Dao of Flame almost caught fire the first time he tried to use it directly.
His Dao of Flame. Almost caught fire.
The gifts of Qu Haolan once again provide. While it limits the space he can use, eating up a large amount of the energy needed for storage, his spatial ring can store the feather. The original array it was brought in also works, but he refuses to use it. He doesn’t know is there are tricks of some sort programmed into it, and even if there are none, it limits the feather’s output.
Safer, maybe. But slower.
While he’s yet to reach some kind of breakthrough, Shin Ren is not one to shy from the flame, not after being reborn from it in the desert.
He waves his hand, making sure the air cools it enough that the paper won’t catch fire at his touch, and picks up the envelope.
There is no seal on it, no sign of any sort of iconography or detail. The paper could be from any one of a million other places, with both Ren and the Smiling Noble going through their known types and finding it most similar to standard issue Imperial paper, accessible in any minor store throughout the city or across the empire. The only sign it has anything at all amiss about it is the fact that there is the slightest hint of Qi around the lip of the letter, connecting to an array so basic even Shin Ren could make it. A basic fire-starter array, its runes so small and detailed they look machined.
Flipping it open, Shin Ren plucks the letter out of the envelope and begins to read, ignoring how the envelope is beginning to smolder ever so slightly.
To whom it may concern,
It has come to our attention that a certain individual has found an interest in you. In the spirit of supporting your growth, we believe you might be well suited to grow closer to this person, at least enough to offer her a passing word. We believe you encountered them on your very first day back.
Additionally, it will be in your best interest to be… flashy. Duels are always popular.
If you do decide to make a new friend, a bit of encouragement will find its way to you shortly.
We look forward to your success.
Vague and cryptic, but not actually coded in any way. Whoever his benefactor is, it’s clear they find more security in anonymity and mystery than direct obfuscation. The letter has no names, no identifying traits, and just like the array, the writing is detailed enough that Shin Ren wouldn’t be surprised if a machine or artifact enhancement was responsible for writing it.
If someone else read this letter, it would likely mean very little besides denoting one of the half-dozen people he met on his way back into the Academies. Only the addition of a “her”, and the fact it’s the most frustrating possibility, tells him exactly who it will be.
Mei Yu.
A Nascent Soul cultivator, and worse, a member of the Divine Veil sect, one of the central sects of the second ring.
The second ring has six sects, though each technically holds a few dozen lessers under their grasp. The sects, while in theory half-distinct from the Empire, remain as much under its thumb as any mortal or independent cultivator, bound to its taxes and laws, but with moderate freedoms to act as they will. To manage this, the Empire raised the favored sects of the second ring to prominence, granting them priority in accessing resources and growing their reaches unrestricted, stifling other sects beneath their political acumen and overbearing weight.
Almost directly subservient to the Emperor, changing their ancestral names to better honor their master, they act as a useful supporting tool for the suppression of other sects. Especially alongside how many resources they take from the overall pool.
To the strong go the spoils, after all.
Blessed Clouds sect, in the far west, whose disciples stride across the sky itself and can manipulate the weather in broad stretches of land.
Artisan’s Enlightenment sect, a modern fusion of several sects focused on crafting that won the eye of the Emperor and sit on the far east. Patrons of the arts, engineering, and the creation of puppets and constructs of all forms.
Divine Frost sect, representative of the far north and its forever-winter and master of ice and stasis. Said to be ruthless and alien, their actions inscrutable yet always deadly.
Eternal Flame sect, to the far south, wardens against the forever-fires of the horizon’s edge and some of the greatest warriors in the Empire.
Karmic Foundations sect, their plateau within a massive underground cavern, capable of reshaping the world and guarding against the beasts of the deep.
And last but not least, the Divine Veil sect.
Only in the Empire’s age would an entire sect dedicated to mental techniques be allowed to grow to such a stature.
Mei Yu, by her robes of dark grey and vibrant purple, belongs to the Divine Veil sect, a sect specialized in illusion and mind techniques. Many of their disciples become part of the Empire’s bureaucracy or healing divisions, with many working in the Research and Altered Cultivation Divisions. There are… worse rumors, but, of course, never substantiated.
It is not uncommon for a disciple of one of the “big six” to be in the Academies. It is said by some that each one has a deal with the Empire to feed half their most promising recruits directly into its machine, and so their numbers are common, their sub-sects making up a good part of the second-ring cultivators that always make up most of the Academy’s numbers. While the Emperor stands above all, and its tools and systems rule over even the greatest, the six great sects are no small things which can be brushed off.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
And his first mission, should he choose to accept it, is to befriend one of its members, one in the Nascent Soul realm. A realm he is still at least a half-step away from, further if he counts his demon cores.
As he thinks, the fire array burns through the letter and its envelope, turning them both to simple ash with a smokeless flame.
Sure. He’s curious what the “encouragement” they offer might entail at least, and if he decides she’s not worth allying with, he can always abort mission.
Manifesting a fresh set of robes from his spatial ring and using his Qi to evaporate the dirt and sweat on his body, Shin Ren sets off.
A few minutes later, he finds himself at the stairs to the upper floors.
Taking a steady breath, he begins to climb.
His original core, stronger for its breaking and already ripe with the potential for a manifestation, shakes, but remains firm. It’ll be uncomfortable, but manageable, and if it was his only concern, he could likely move to the upper floor now, using the higher Qi density to spark his transcendent soul.
His demon cores are not so comfortable.
The Corpse Aflame shows a smile in his mind that drips bloody froth. Her core, more compact and sharp than her brother’s begins to vibrate with the pressure, but remains solid. When she breaks, it will be explosive, but he’s certain that the shape and density of her will buy him at least an hour, maybe.
The Smiling Noble does not fare quite so well.
A hallucination of the funhouse mirror version of Shin Ren appears on the stairs, not quite blocking his path but not far from it.
While Shin Ren wears the simpler robes of the Academy, the Smiling Noble wears his full regalia, the iconography of the Purple Flame Burning Lotus sect bright and almost gaudy in some abstract way, juxtaposed with a newly added bit of Imperial white. His face, just as handsome as Shin Ren’s own but often wearing a deeply false smile, now holds a sneer.
“As bold as ever, you stride forth against the unknown and clear risk,” he says, the mockery in his voice saccharine sweet. “To send a letter? How pedestrian. To attempt to find a power base or allies of hers, ingratiate ourselves? How plebian. No, for the great Shin Ren there is only one choice, to march forward mindlessly into pointless risk.”
Shin Ren smiles softly. “To show one’s sincerity is important to establish a good first impression. To walk up to her level and petition, rather than ask her down to my level, shows commitment, and does not burden or create associations about our relationship. Better to do this honorably and politely.”
The Smiling Noble scoffs, his image wavering as reality and hallucination overlap. Shin Ren takes another step higher, feeling the cornucopia-shaped horn of his demon core tremble harshly against the pressure. Taking some of his own Qi, he strengthens his meridians and the flow of Qi around the core, buffering it ever so slightly.
“You’ll be fine,” Shin Ren promises.
The Smiling Noble’s smile turns harsher, more vile, before the tone and intent in Shin Ren’s voice make their impact clear.
Shin Ren, in a tone as light as if he were talking about the weather, promised. And meant it absolutely.
The Smiling Noble does not step away from where he stands on the stair… but he does adjust his stance, crossing his arms and oh-so-accidentally opening up space to move past him.
Each step up is a burden. The pressure pushes through his skin, presses down on his soul, the sheer weight of meaning and intent in the rooms above weighing upon him. Qi in massive quantities, compressed to fit perpetually into the rooms above, gives the impression that he is walking upside-down into some perpetual lake, the pressure of its depths making his metaphorical ears pop and his bones begin to ache.
And he perseveres.
He has to burn a not-inconsiderable part of his own Qi to increase his circulation, forcefully shielding his demon cores in a way that will not be sustainable for more than perhaps an hour or two, but he perseveres.
Eventually, after thirty slow, agonizing steps, he reaches the next floor, and steps past the threshold.
The Academies are a massive place, larger by far with each floor one rises. The world warps and space shifts to allow for truly expansive arenas, libraries and living quarters, nevermind communal areas and cultivation spaces. Without a clear goal, one could wander for days without finding all of the rooms and hallways of a place such as this.
Sighing with preemptive exhaustion, Shin Ren clears his mind. With a flicker, his Qi rises, unbowed against the pressures of its environment.
Shin Ren raises his hand, and summons a flicker of True Flame.
His Dao of Flame is imperfect. His experience with the feather (which certainly cannot be a phoenix feather, not even in his mind) has proven that much beyond that. In spite of this, of all the myriad colors of fire and all their potential meanings, for all that the concept of Flame holds depths he has yet to explore and a reach far beyond his sight, two things hold true.
All Things Burn, and that the Flame is mysterious indeed.
Gold and Purple flames come easy, manifesting in his hand for just a few moments before he closes his fist, extinguishing them.
Mei Yu showed interest in him at a pretty early point, and, especially given her sect of origin, he can’t imagine that she won’t be keeping an eye on his movements, or new entrants to the first floor of the Nascent Soul territory of the Academy. A little added Flame only helps to confirm what she likely already knows, and act as a sign that he’s broadcasting his position to her.
His soul and meridians straining, Shin Ren strolls through the doorway and into the floor proper, sitting heavily against a couch more opulent than some noble manors, sinking into it. The Smiling Noble, shaky though he may be against a challenge he can’t gaslight or manipulate his way through, manifests a brief hallucination of self to sink into the impossibly plush cushions alongside his original.
On a small side table, a small cup of plum wine and a handful of grapes appear while his attention is elsewhere, the opulent gold and marble chambers rivaling a Palace in their splendor. The illusion of natural light filters down through impossible doorways and windows, and an invisible breeze moves through the room to lightly ring against some of the finely crafted pieces and draw attention to ornate curtains and paintings.
Shin Ren sighs. All this opulence, all for what is effectively the room before a stairwell.
He does take a sip of the plum wine, though. It would be downright cruel to the Smiling Noble not to give him at least that much.
And he nearly spills the cup when someone comes from behind him for a hug.
Mei Yu drapes herself over his shoulders, her lips distressingly close to his ear.
“What a delight to see you here, amongst us greater beings,” she says in a voice that is half sultry whisper and half laughter. “I had thought you one of the slow and steady types. What a joy it is to find out you’re such a grower.”
He’s fairly certain the innuendo is meant to fluster him, but he can’t help it. He laughs.
He feels the moment where she blinks, and he turns his head to meet her gaze, his lips daringly close to her own. “Does that usually work, or are you more used to teasing your juniors than properly flirting?”
There’s a moment where he breaks through her mask just enough to see a look of mixed delight and confusion on her face. A moment later, the painting is back, a picture-perfect jade beauty staring back at him, but she does rise from where she’s draped herself over the cough, sitting tall and elegant along the back of it.
“Oh? Do you not consider yourself my junior? Perhaps you will seek to call this young mistress a liar and tell me that you’re in the Nascent Soul realm, rather than pushing your cultivation to allow yourself this little visit.”
Shin Ren smiles wide, the Smiling Noble channeled through him. “A junior is one’s lesser, young mistress, and I’m afraid that while I may have a few steps higher to climb on my path, I am lesser to very few.”
“Perhaps I shall savor my place amongst these few, once your surprising turn to arrogance has been relieved of you.”
“Perhaps you shall. I came here to make a request of you, after all.”
She blinks, her form shifting even more towards the traditional coquettish approach, leaning back ever so slightly to better emphasize her chest (which, he freely admits, is impressive). “Oh? And what favor would you request of this honored one, who stands above you on the stairway towards the Heavens?”
“I came to request a duel.”
This time, when she blinks, it is not an act.
And this time, it’s the Corpse Aflame who “smiles”. Probably. She crackles and clacks her teeth together, and the crispier parts of her body make a crinkling sound. He’s pretty sure that means she’s happy.