“How can this be!? I am an inner disciple of the Blessed Clouds sect! How could some lowly third-ring commoner-”

A man dressed in the same white and sky-blue robes of the whinging idiot smacks said idiot upside the head.

“We apologize for the young master’s disrespect, honored cultivator. His blood runs hot and this fight has been a thrilling opportunity for education for him.”

Shin Ren bows politely, his guandao vanishing back into his storage ring.

“Think nothing of it. I understand how daunting new comprehension can be, and do not fault the young master for taking the lesson to heart.”

The entourage of the young man from the Thundering Cuts sect nod their heads, with their leader giving a further half-bow back to Shin Ren. “Your grace does you a great service, fellow Daoist.”

Shin Ren raises an eyebrow slightly to that, but doesn’t comment. To call someone a fellow Daoist, the man before him must be claiming his very own comprehension of Dao. What form of it, he’s not sure, but, well… he’s from the Blessed Clouds sect. Lightning Dao users and Aspirants of the Cut both have had their roots there.

One of the big six sects of the second ring, a tried and true dog of the Empire, with all the beauty and wonder gifted unto the loyalest of pets. In turn, they feed the Division of War aptly, especially when it comes to the Imperial Guard, the peacekeepers of the inner rings, clad in flying armors and artifacts.

Shin Ren has respect for the role. It takes diligence and skill to be a center-point to peace for so many, and while there are plenty who see them as glorified lapdogs, Shin Ren knows better. There is a reason that bandit clans are so rare. There is a reason that those who do not directly live in the shadow of a sect still do not need to fear constant danger. To be a peacekeeper is a noble thing, and to have a sect dedicated to it is nothing vile.

But Shin Ren has yet to see them act much differently than any other sect-children he’s met in the Academies. Arrogant, entitled, and ultimately more focused on personal growth for the sake of it than he’s comfortable with.

None of which is a sin.

But he wasn’t unhappy with the contents of his latest letter.

He gives a final bow and turns away from the flushed face of one of the Blessed Clouds sect’s young masters. There are whispers, so quiet they dance below a mortal’s hearing level, but audible to his senses as he leaves the courtyard.

Not his preferred avenue for a confrontation. It’s public, embarrassing for the loser, and frankly, the artificial “outdoor” areas of the Academies grate on him a bit. There’s just something frustrating about having to block off his senses to not be able to sense the Qi and Dao flowing through the space.

But that, too, was specified in the letter.

So far, this “Wyld” has been true to her word. They’ve asked nothing of him that he wasn’t willing to answer. Three missions over the last several weeks, each one as seemingly benign as the last. After “befriending” Mei Yu, the next mission was to rearrange some of the books he searched for previously into specific places, making it look accidental. Done easily enough, and they would only be returned to their proper places by the invisible custodians before long. Second mission was to follow an individual whose name he did not know, publicly and openly, such that others could see him traveling along a specific route. This latest letter was the most demanding, and yet, the easiest.

To humble one particularly arrogant young master of the Blessed Clouds sect that had been showboating around.

In truth, Shin Ren isn’t sure he needs much humbling, so he hopes this is enough. It’s more than alright to be confident, reaching mid Nascent Soul stage at the age that he has.

The fact that Shin Ren has outpaced him, after losing so much of his cultivation, is no reason for him not to keep that trust in himself. The kid has potential to go far, really.

He was kind of an ass, though. Even his allies seemed to agree, especially if the way his fellows treated his loss was any indication.

Hopefully this is exactly what the kid will need to improve himself.

Not that Shin Ren has any room to be calling people kid. He’s not even thirty.

He smiles at that. Shin Ren, genius among geniuses once again. This time, even those in the Academy have to recognize him as more than a peer, more than just a particularly determined third-ring cultivator who got lucky. Even though that’s exactly what he is, in all fairness.

He smiles at the thought.

He might never say it (or get to say it, more grimly) to his master, but his teachings are actually almost magnified by the Empire. Access to materials is one part of the equation- to those it favors and those it needs, the Empire is more than generous. Rather than losing the lives of the young and bold in obscure places to get once-in-a-lifetime ingredients, the Empire has methods of creating, farming, or procuring almost every resource in the world. What were once resources that cost lives and had whole generations of servants to guard and cultivate them now can be acquired by the hard work of experts and trained workers of all sorts.

In the second place, the breadth of techniques are absolutely exponential compared to that of any sect. No technique too small or too great, and most rewritten so that the… eccentricities of many of their authors aren’t a weakness to would-be cultivators of them. They even keep the originals, to be studied alongside annotated and translated versions. Techniques that might have been discarded or lost are studied, understood, sometimes leading to all new ideas and strengths.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

For all that Shin Ren has felt the hand of the Empire pervasively in every academic text he’s found on its history or its enemies, that doesn’t change the fact that without it, there are hundreds, maybe thousands of ideas, stories and experiences that would be lost to time or left to rot in some abandoned cave, or never written at all.

Between the two, Shin Ren’s cultivation has soared.

The ninth layers of both of his demon cores came along easily, thanks to the sheer density of Qi available to him and the pills to back it up. Pills to improve or reduce his need for sleep, pills to heal his fatigue and mental damage, elixirs to alter his mind and improve comprehension, and more. Add onto that the myriad techniques and journals or discussions on cultivation, all added into his own comprehension of himself and the growth therein…

It didn’t take long for something to begin to spark inside himself… and his other “selves”.

It was an enlightened manifesto on the nature of Dao.

Purple and Gold are the two colors to Shin Ren’s own flames, the centerpoints of his Dao. They are two of the seven colors, concepts, or higher ideals that are associated with Dao, on the way to true comprehension.

Gold is the color of Truth, Enlightenment and Stability. It stands at the apex of the others, but is incomplete without the other colors blended into it. It speaks to a climactic step to the center of a concept, a grasp on some of the properties inherent to its very core. He’s rather proud of gaining that one, especially before the others.

Purple is the color of mystery, of secrets, of the unknown. The Purple Flame Burning Lotus sect is, in many ways, an examination of this aspect of the Dao of Flame. It sounds intuitive- it’s easy to think that one doesn’t know something. Ironically, it is very, very hard to know that one doesn’t know something, to feel the weight of what is not comprehended and what may always be unknowable. The absence of comprehension is, in and of itself, a property, one that takes wisdom to master.

That one feels a bit more obvious to Shin Ren, really.

Then there’s Black. Death, destruction, and the infinite. The absence of color more than its presence. The End, in as many words, the black-beyond-black. It is the part of a thing’s concept that denotes how it relates to the final and absolute end, both of itself and that of which it touches. Impossible to truly understand without experiencing it, in some way, profoundly and entirely.

It’s one of the two colors that the Corpse Aflame manifests in her fires.

The other is Red, and all its permutations. Harm, the destructive meeting of two forces or manifestations, but also passion and energy. To be touched by Red, one’s comprehension requires true, foundational understanding of the ways in which a concept destroys, unmakes, or violently transforms that which it touches, and is transformed in turn.

Neither color is evil. Good and evil, neither one of them really factor in. They’re smaller concepts, too broad and too indistinct to hold weight on reality without weight being placed upon them. Comprehension, Dao, these are beyond that. It speaks to only experience and wisdom that she has these colors so vividly in her flames, even if they’re still weaker than Shin Ren’s comprehension overall.

The other colors fall into their own categories.

Green is growth, balance, harmony. The circle of life and death, the way that it feeds the world, the way that things change into what they are meant to be. Fate, to some, consequences and synchronicity to others.

Orange, sometimes viewed as the calmer sibling to Red, speaks of creativity, energy, and change. Boundless enthusiasm, infinite permutations, and transformation without the context of death, destruction, or growth inherently tied in.

Finally there’s Blue, often the most elusive to those who have never experienced it. Tranquility, which is hard enough, often wrapped around both the concept of duality and the idea of limitlessness.

Only with all seven can one claim true and perfect comprehension of Dao. Many fall into their concepts, lost along the way or sacrificing themselves to it to become something other, but to master all the possible permutations of color makes the idea of an early “True” anything a joke.

So far, the only one of the three of them yet to unlock any Dao of his own, or any permutation of their original Dao of Flame, is the Smiling Noble. To be fair, he’s not really about fire. Its effects are sort of filtered through another concept, one more abstract, more… socially-inclined. It is no shame not to hold a Dao of his own, considering that technically he was born only, what, a year and a half ago? And that he’s the least powerful among them. His nine layers around his core took far, far longer than the Corpse Aflame, and even still, his pool of Qi is smaller than his sister’s by a wide margin.

But there’s no need to rush. He has his own talents and his own perspectives, and pursuing them is often at odds with Shin Ren, so the mutual consensus is that he will grow at his own pace.

But to grow is still required. For all of them.

Qu Haolan is still trapped somewhere in the first ring.

Even still, progress is progress. His own Nascent Soul is more solidified, more closely tied to the Dao of Flame, but its shape is still indistinct to him. The Corpse Aflame, on the other hand, is developing hers quickly, a roiling, faceless thing of burnt flesh and crackling, searing oblivion.

Shin Ren… doesn’t love it. It’s got far too many hands, and they’re all sort of… melting together. Like the flesh on them is wax, to sizzle and pop on the pyre.

And yet, this, too, is Dao. This too is cultivation. Death and harm are inherent to the Flame, as they are to every possible concept. He is lucky to have someone he can trust and understand deep within himself, adding her comprehension to his own- and vice versa.

Shin Ren walks back towards the library. There’s always more learning to be had, more things to uncover and comprehend, and he refuses to slack off. Better to act now than regret it later, and there is much to regret in losing time. He rests when he has to, maybe once a week, and spends the rest of his time either in cultivation, in the training arenas, or in the libraries. It would be lonely, if not for Gou Mai insisting on joining him near-constantly, something he’s grateful for.

And having to deal with the extended Qi senses of the dozen Nascent Soul cultivators on this floor of the Academy is easier in a place that’s quiet.

The Nascent Soul floors are… a lot like the lower floors, but nicer. Richer in Qi and resources. More optional lessons, larger libraries. Outside this place, without the aid of the carefully designed arrays of experts, it might take him years to advance the slightest bit in feeding the nascent divine within him.

But above all else, the documents.

Maps. Historical records. Treatises on the intricacies of the Empire, and its old enemies. Everything he needs to understand who he’s going against… and to begin to understand why.

But today, of course, there’s a break in the pattern. Today, when he walks into the library, there’s a letter waiting for him.

That’s… new.

They’ve always been in his room before. Someplace private. Yet here, when he pulls a manual from its shelf (a complex thing, blending arrays with heat-based changing runes), a piece of paper falls out with it, sealed with black wax.

He breaks the seal, his Qi igniting against the wax and proving his presence, leaving the paper (and the array hidden in it) intact. The letter inside is… considerably less flowery than before.

To Whom It May Concern,

A mission has been posted on the Academy’s merit boards. SOS 316, for Fortress-City 180 on the east-north-east part of the wall. It should be posted for approximately 600 merits. You’ll need at least three other cultivators at the Nascent Soul level to accompany you. We recommend your skyward friend and the illusionist to start. This is a priority. You have three hours to arrive there before the situation escalates beyond control. Do this, and you’ll receive direct information on the one you’re looking for.

Well.

That’s different.