Allowing himself a moment to bask in smug satisfaction, Goujian stifled a chuckle as he watched young Gen falter and fall.
Though the young hunter once had promise, Goujian always knew Gen’s tenuous grasp of the Razor’s Edge would be his undoing. While he pushed his limits to progress faster and further than most, he was prone to fits of unrestrained rage and lust, so his downfall was all but inevitable once his luck finally ran out. Promising as he might seem, Goujian believed it was only a matter of time before Gen was left behind by other young talents, such as Yuanyin, Mitsue Hideo, Mao Jianghong, or even the Chieftain of Chieftains Vithar. Against all expectations however, this once future Emperor’s path had come to an early end thanks to hubris and impulse, and Goujian found it fitting to see Gen’s Transcendent form to bear a twisted expression of fear and despair, complete with two metallic tears embedded upon his frozen, metallic grimace, an eternal testament to his cowardly inner nature.
Such a shame for this once promising dragon among men to be ruined by the Uniter’s unsound teachings.
That was the only explanation for it, because as talented as his opponent might have been, there was no way the half-cat slave girl should have been able to defeat young Gen so easily. While the ruined Emperor established his Transcendent Form, Goujian replayed the battle in his mind’s eye and noted all the oddities he couldn’t quite explain. The half-cat’s movements hinted at a superb level of mastery in the Forms, comparable to Goujian’s famed first Disciple Wen Zhong, who himself was considered a prodigy of the sword. However, even as outstanding as she was, Li Song’s skills were still inferior to young Gen, yet for some reason, he’d been unable to muster up a proper response in the face of her all out offensive. Some of it could be attributed to her uncanny ability to chain her Movements together with superb timing and precision, but this alone wasn’t enough to explain young Gen’s panicked reactions and lacklustre defences. Goujian had seen the boy keep pace with some of the finest Chosen of Heaven, and while the half-cat was likely to eventually reach the pinnacle of the Martial Path, at the moment, she was still somewhat lacking when compared to the best of her peers.
So how was she able to overwhelm Gen so easily and topple him off the Razor’s Edge?
“Do not underestimate the girl.” Startled out of his thoughts by the unexpected Sending, Goujian turned his gaze upon Wisdom Vyakhya. Though he stood head, shoulders, and chest above the hunched-back monk, the aged ascetic’s unsightly scowl made Goujian feel like a child again, one who was about to be caned for making a stupid mistake. “Even you with your refined body and decades of experience might have fallen before her blade, for her Aura is formidable and insidious to behold.”
Her Aura? How could that possibly have been the reason for Gen’s defeat? Scouring the battlefield for a glimpse of the half-cat, Goujian realized both she and the Transcendent Gen had both disappeared from view, though the battle continued to rage all throughout the monastery. “Your student is lacking and does not understand. In what way is her Aura formidable?”
“The Dao is boundless and without limit.” Tearing his eyes away from the battlefield, Vyakhya regarded Goujian with solemn gravity. “The world at large sees Aura as a binary function, Imperial or Defiled, courage or terror, an emotional assault which is easily countered by its opposing force, but this is merely the most basic and elementary function of Aura.” Frowning, he added, “Though your time under my tutelage has been sorely limited, surely Mahakala’s teachings were not so lacking?”
Reminded of his brush with Mahakala in Nan Ping, Goujian shuddered at the memory of his former Mentor’s terrifying Aura, one which set him to gibbering inside his tent until Yuanyin’s arrival. “But Gen has an Aura as well,” Goujian Sent, still not entirely understanding how one’s Aura could be considered formidable, “And the Chosen had long since unleashed their own Auras, so surely he must have been well protected. How was it possible for the half-cat’s Aura to penetrate through so many defences and affect him?” The only reason Mahakala’s Aura had overwhelmed Goujian at the time was because he was unprepared to defend against it, but surely things were different with Gen.
“A frog in a well who knows not the heights of Heaven.” Shaking his head in abject disappointment, the Wisdom Sent, “You hear, but do not listen. The Dao is boundless and without limit, yet you refuse to accept that there is more to the world than what you have already experienced. You are akin to a child swinging a stick and pretending to be a Warrior, while wholly unaware of the true intricacies of swordsmanship. With this monk’s help, you have progressed further than most, and few under Divinity can match you in raw strength, speed, and reflexes, but these are not the sole measure of a Warrior’s strength. The body is vital, but so too are the mind and spirit, and whether it be through luck or cunning, the half-cat utilized an attack which targeted Gen’s glaring weakness, that of his meagre mental fortitude. Throughout their duel, she subjected him to an advanced Aura of crippling despair, which is the best explanation this monk can give without delving too deeply into the mysteries of the Dao, though you should keep in mind that matters are far more complicated than this, as it is less of an Aura and more a targeted empathy. Her personal despair became his and he was unable to bear the weight of her emotions, and so a once promising young Warrior has been toppled from his formerly lofty heights, a fate which you might soon share should you be caught unawares. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”
A terrifying prospect, though Goujian felt that Vyakhya gave him far too little credit. How could the trials and tribulations of a young slave compare to what he suffered through? Still, he was suitably humbled by his Teacher’s lecture as prior to this, Goujian wasn’t even aware of the existence of mental or spiritual attacks, or rather would never have categorized them as such. Now that the concept had been introduced however, he recognized the veracity behind his Teacher’s words, for he’d encountered other such mental attacks firsthand. One example was the power of illusion, as wielded by certain powerful Transcendents, and another was the indecipherable chants of the Brotherhood and the Spiritual Tiger Rakshasa’s sub-vocal growls, though Goujian knew little to nothing regarding the mechanics behind these various attacks.
What constituted a Spiritual attack, then? The question burned away at the back of Goujian’s mind, but he knew the Wisdom would look down on him if he asked without first contemplating the issue himself. Now was not the time for self-study however, so all this musing would have to wait until later. First, there was a battle to be won, and though the Chosen of Heaven vastly outnumbered the gathered monks of the Brotherhood, Goujian was taken aback by the overwhelming prowess of these supposedly pacifist monks. More impressive than their actual skills was the atypical manner in which they fought, wielding all manner of tools and objects which Goujian once would have said had no place upon the battlefield, but now he realized how closed minded he’d been. The Dao was boundless and without limit indeed, and upon seeing these monks Reinforce stone pestles, Hone bristled brushes, Resonate rhythmic drum beats, and utilize miraculous Chi skills for which he had no name, Goujian was made aware of a myriad of new possibilities which he’d never known had existed.
And yet none were more impressive than the Abbot’s sole Disciple, whose Martial prowess was easily a match for any Peak Expert Goujian had met firsthand. Standing at the forefront wielding a spade identical to Mahakala’s, there was nothing remarkable about the hefty Monk Anand at first glance. A portly, chubby cheeked fellow whose persistent grin made him seem like the very soul of congeniality, all this changed as soon as he took to the battlefield and exchanged his customary smile for a fearsome, ferocious glower. Unleashing all his pent up emotions, the once jovial monk lost himself in a frenzy of rage and resentment to become an unstoppable force of bloodshed and violence. Though the Wisdom claimed he was not yet a Half-Step Divinity, Monk Anand cut a swathe through the Chosen elites like a farmer reaping his harvest, one burdened by grief and regret for the pain he caused his crops. Truly a conflicted individual, the fearsome monk’s demeanour offered Goujian a glimpse of the Truth, one which was in some way superior to the Truth he himself had discovered, and he yearned to take this man’s comprehension and make it his own.
“Go,” Vyakhya Sent, once again reading Goujian’s thoughts as if lifting them from his mind. “So long as this monk guards you from Mental and Spiritual attacks, then you will undoubtedly emerge victorious in a clash of brawn. Do not let overconfidence cloud your judgment however, and remember to study his movements well, for there are few under Heaven who can challenge you like Anand will.”
A lonely prospect, to have so few peers left to challenge, but such was life when approaching the peak. Only Divinities still stood above Goujian, so he meant to make the most of this opportunity to learn and improve. This being said, he felt ill-equipped to fight Monk Anand with naught but his bare fists. A personal failing, because he knew his refined body should be more than capable of stopping a Honed Spiritual Weapon so long as he took the proper precautions. However, seeing how this was his first battle as a half-step Divinity, Goujian was anxious to achieve victory and reaffirm the veracity of his current Path. To this end, he made a quick stop on the battlefield and picked up a two-handed greatsword, one dropped by a fallen Chosen of Heaven who would no longer require it. Giving the too-light weapon a few casual one-handed swings, he familiarized himself with its use while reflecting on his recent lessons with Wisdom Vyakhya.
“The Martial Path is flawed from conception,” the aged monk had proclaimed during their first lesson following Goujian’s recovery, the first of many throughout their two week-long journey to the monastery. “The Martial Path is wide and far-reaching, encompasses anything and everything which falls under its purview. A grand undertaking, but one humans struggle to understand, for though the Dao is boundless, our mortal perception limited and insufficient to the task, so it is better to work within our limits and pursue a more defined Dao. The Martial Path is too broad for this monk’s tastes, and while the Abbot would claim too much demarcation would only make matters more complicated in the end, he speaks as one who has never struggled to understand the Dao.” Goujian detected more than a hint of jealousy in Wisdom’s Vyakhya’s tone, and he sympathized with the sentiment. The Heavens were prejudiced to the extreme, doling out talent in uneven proportions, but even without talent, great men like Goujian and Wisdom Vyakhya were able to reach the pinnacle of mortality and were now poised to take the next step beyond false Divinity.
What followed was a brief introduction to the various Daos from Wisdom Vyakhya, one he categorized himself and included the Sword Dao, Spear Dao, Fist Dao, Axe Dao, and other such Martial Daos, but also more esoteric subjects like the Dao of Painting, Calligraphy, Music, Sculpting, Cooking, and even Farming. Anything and everything could become a Dao, but many could be gathered together under a single label, so after countless decades spent categorizing the various Daos, monk Vyakhya came up with just over three-thousand distinct Daos to focus on. While Goujian’s first thought was to devote himself to the Dao of the Sword, his gut reaction to this decision was to steer clear from this decision, for he was no Warrior, but an investigator. In his eyes, the sword was merely a required tool to help complement his true Dao, so while he was not adverse to studying the Dao of the Sword, he could not devote himself to the sword and nothing else.
Wen Zhong clearly followed the Dao of the Sword, and Li Song a proponent of the Dao of the Sabre, but to this day, Goujian still had no clear epithet for his personal Dao. The Dao of the Confessor was the closest he could come up with, a Dao that resonated with him and him alone, which Wisdom Vyakhya wholeheartedly approved of. “Fitting for you to lay claim to a unique Dao,” he said, nodding as he considered Goujian’s answer, “For you yourself are a unique individual, with a Path no other could ever follow.”
This led Goujian to wonder why even bother labelling the various Daos in the first place, but he was not so foolish as to side with his teacher’s rival so soon into their relationship. What’s more, even though his personal Dao did not fit into one of his teacher’s three-thousand classified Daos, Wisdom Vyakhya was not wrong to have his students focus on one aspect of the Dao at a time. Take the Dao of the Sword for example, which Goujian studied despite his initial reservations. There was more to Sword Dao than merely how to swing a blade or move one’s feet, for the Dao encompassed more than just the mere physical. A sword was a tool, but the Dao was limitless, and so too was the Dao of the Sword.
Holding out his left palm for Goujian to inspect, Wisdom Vyakhya began yet another lesson with, “This is the physical world, one you are no doubt familiar with. Here, we have everything you see, smell, touch, hear, and taste, the trappings through which our mortal shells are encased within.” Offering his right palm, he continued, “And this is the metaphysical world, one which your senses cannot perceive, but is there all the same. You are familiar with this as well, if only by another name.”
Recognition dawned almost immediately, for Goujian had long since suspected this Truth. “The Void.”
“A good a name as any,” Wisdom Vyakhya agreed, before placing his right palm over his left and pressing them both together and interlacing his fingers. “These two worlds exist in two separate planes, yet are interwoven together at an infinite number of points, a concept which even this monk is unable to comprehend. For your purposes, it is enough to accept that this is the Truth, until we can prove otherwise.” Separating his hands again, the Wisdom raised his left hand and continued, “Martial Warriors almost all focus solely on the physical world, because it is the only world they are able to perceive and understand, but as this monk explained before, the two worlds are intertwined in more ways than one. Thus, by focusing on the physical world at the detriment of the metaphysical, this means any Insights gained into the latter are achieved through sheer luck and happenstance. Most don’t even realize they’ve stumbled across an Insight into the metaphysical, which is why so many Martial Warriors fail to pass down their unique skills and Insights to the next generation.”
“So you mean to say that by focusing on both and studying how they connect, one can achieve twice the results with half the effort?”
“Correct.” Offering a rare nod of approval at Goujian’s astute answer, Wisdom Vyakhya took a deep breath and said, “Now let us begin.”
Previously, Goujian found the subjects of mathematics, biology, and chemistry daunting to the extreme, but these next lessons went above and beyond his meagre comprehension. Part of it was because even Wisdom Vyakhya lacked a complete understanding of the metaphysical, leading to a fragmented tangle of information regarding waves and particles that were both present and not present at the same time. Somehow, waves behaved like particles, but particles behaved like waves, both of which behaved differently when observed and yet were also wholly predictable in behaviour. There was so much more Goujian had yet to fully digest, like the presence of natural matrices in the form of numerical symmetry or the presence of more dimensions than length, width, and height, but he persevered through the lessons and eventually grasped the core tenants of what Wisdom Vyakhya tried to impart.
Focusing his attention on the greatsword in his hand, Goujian gave his body time to become acquainted with the cold steel, attuning himself to its physical form while simultaneously attaining an intuitive grasp of its metaphysical properties, ones that went beyond weight, length, and other such mundane dimensions. Not to say knowledge of its physical properties was useless, as every good swordsman knew that no two swords were exactly the same, but having progressed so far along the Martial Path, acclimating himself to a new weapon was now second nature. As the Bloody Confessor, his hooked sword had gained much fame over the years, and there was many a time when he was forced to conceal or abandon his Spiritual Weapon in order to blend into a crowd, so he was no stranger to fighting with unfamiliar weapons. This was a skill borne from countless years of experience, and it served him well here today, for the physical and metaphysical were inseparable. Familiarizing himself with the physical properties would also familiarize him with the greatsword’s metaphysical properties, even if he lacked the ability to communicate his familiarity in any discernible fashion.
Again, a simple concept, but one which hid a myriad of complexities just underneath the surface. If given the choice, every swordsman in the world would choose to fight with their own personal weapon over an unfamiliar one, but few could ever explain exactly why. The physical properties were only a small part of this decision, because even the worst swordsman in the world would be able to wield a similar but unfamiliar sword without too much difficulty, so there must be more to the reasoning. The answer lay in the sword’s metaphysical properties, which could only be perceived through familiarity, as opposed to objectively measured, so Goujian resolved to have a proper sword forged for himself, one more suitable for his current physique than his destroyed Spiritual Weapon.
Alas, there hadn’t been enough time before their departure to task a blacksmith for the job, so Goujian would have to make do with this scavenged greatsword. After a long minute spent familiarizing himself with the weapon, he took a deep breath and deployed his Domain around the cold steel of the sword, not just its physical form, but also its metaphysical one. In his mind, he pictured his Domain as a thread sewn into the very structure of the sword itself, forming a lattice framework sword that existed in both the physical and metaphysical realm, but even he knew this was a faulty conceptualization. There was more to the sword than the physical, but he was unable to visualize anything beyond the tangible three dimensions. Until such a time as he could, however, this would have to do, and while the concept sounded simple in theory, exhibiting such fine control of his Domain was easier said than done, especially considering he had to maintain the Domain framework in the exact physical space occupied by the greatsword at any given moment. It was a feat he likened to simultaneously playing a thousand games of speed chess against a thousand grand-masters without using a board, while also running a marathon by following the exact footsteps of a man faster than himself.
Difficult for a mortal, but for a half-step Divinity like Goujian, a simple enough task so long as he kept focused. His physical improvements were not limited to his muscles alone, for even his organs had been much improved, including his mind, which belied the question of why Vyakhya believed Goujian’s mind was his weakness.
No matter though. The important thing was that Goujian was able to use Chi and Domain in ways he never thought possible before. This Domain Framework wasn’t just a haphazard deployment of his Domain, but a fine interweaving of Chi that brought the metaphysical world closer to the surface of the physical world. This was the means through which Spiritual Weapons and Spiritual Hearts received their near indestructible aspect, for by becoming physical containers for storing metaphysical Chi, these objects and organs were more heavily tied to the metaphysical world than other mundane objects, a benefit his Refined Physique now shared. This was also why the bodily fluids of an ascending Transcendent were capable of destroying a Spiritual Weapon, because those vital fluids were metaphysical in nature, and therefore able to affect other metaphysical objects.
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All of which he found fascinating to the extreme, and while Goujian yearned to spend several years sequestered away in study of the metaphysical world, there were more important matters at hand now.
Using this Domain Plating, as Wisdom Vyakhya called it, Goujian turned his borrowed greatsword into a quasi-Spiritual Weapon, not quite as hardy and reliable as a forged Spiritual Weapon, but those objects were crutches he could no longer rely on, not if he intended to see his Path to completion. Granted, it took countless hours of practice immersed within his Natal Palace to achieve even a tenuous grasp of Domain Plating, and he still had far to go. Having seen the variety of haphazard tools used by the Brotherhood in battle, Goujian was certain the monks were also well-versed in the use of this skill, considering how they fought with whatever object lay close to hand. It also explained why Monk Anand’s weapon was so similar to Mahakala’s, not because they were replicas, but because they were one and the same object. This was only possible because the spade had never been a Spiritual Weapon to begin with, merely a tool the deviant monk could use to both kill and bury his foes with dignity, one Monk Anand now used to slay Chosen Peak Experts with near impunity.
Even though he’d fallen out with Mahakala, as the deceased monk’s former Disciple, Goujian found it distasteful to see his once beloved Mentor’s weapon in the hands of another, so he took Monk Anand’s disrespect personally. Leaping into battle with a ferocious roar, Goujian covered dozens of metres in a single bound to clash with this hateful foe. The impact set the rotund monk’s cheeks to jiggling as he fell back for the first time this battle, and Goujian was quick to follow up with another attack. “You are not worthy to wield Mahakala’s spade,” he declared, delivering a series of blows that set Monk Anand reeling. “Leave it behind, alongside your dog life, and I will spare you any suffering.”
Stopping to give the monk time to consider the offer, Goujian stood tall as his foe regained his footing. Taking a deep breath to temper his rage, the ferocious, wide-eyed monk’s expression twisted in fury and indignation, his savagery a sight to behold. “You are not worthy to speak his name, apostate,” Monk Anand spat, settling his body into a spearman’s stance. “This monk will not suffer to hear it cross your lips again.”
Ready with a rejoinder, Goujian’s words froze upon his lips as the monastery shimmered around Monk Anand. The paved stone slabs of the courtyard, the carved rotating columns, the polished wooden walls, and even the smooth, interlocking shingles, none of it changed in any perceptible way, and yet it all became more vivid, more solid, more... real. Were he to place the image before side by side with what he currently saw now, that was the only way to describe it, as if reality were a lifeless painting done by a second-rate dabbler of the craft while Monk Anand had somehow improved upon what was there.
So this was the power of the furious Monk Anand, a man who Wisdom Vyakhya claimed was most likely to become the next Divinity and Abbot of the Brotherhood.
Then, while Goujian was still reeling with the implications of what he saw happening before his eyes, Monk Anand attacked, and the world went dark.
It wasn’t until after Goujian regained his bearings that his memory filled in the missing gaps. A simple charging thrust was all it was, and yet this straightforward attack would have taken his head clean off if not for his nigh-impervious physique. Instead, Monk Anand’s opening attack merely left a bloody furrow at the base of Goujian’s neck and knocked him out for a single heartbeat as his body was sent careening through the air. Tucking himself into a ball, he controlled his descent and flipped about to land heavily on his feet, only to find the deadly spade before his eyes once again. There was no time for thought as Goujian acted on instinct, bringing his sword around even as he lowered his head and prayed. The Heavens were on his side and his gambit succeeded, with Goujian accepting the deadly blow on his hard forehead in place of his vulnerable eyes. The spade bit deep, scraping through flesh and glancing off bone, but his enhanced mind merely acknowledged the pain as a statement of fact rather than allowing it to overwhelm his thoughts and senses. Before Monk Anand could follow through with his killing thrust, Goujian’s greatsword swept across, not to defend but to attack in an arcing blow aimed at taking his foe’s life. Formidable though Monk Anand might be, his body was still mortal and vulnerable, meaning even a glancing blow would be enough to end him. Thus, this move left him no choice but to withdraw instead of pushing forward to claim Goujian’s life.
Cold sweat dripped down his back as he took new measure of the monk, using this hard won lull in battle to reassess the situation. Barely a single second had passed since the beginning of their exchange and he’d nearly died twice. Thrice now, as he just barely managed to side-step and Deflect a third deadly thrust after finally acclimating to his foe’s ridiculous speed. The trick was to concentrate without putting too much focus on one specific point, which allowed his peripheral vision to take in every detail without fail. Monk Anand was fast and powerful, but not so fast and powerful that Goujian couldn’t keep up once his eyes and mind acclimated to the man’s movements. No, in fact, the monk couldn’t be considered fast at all, not compared to Goujian’s true speed, but there was some restrictive force in place preventing him from unleashing his full potential. It was as if his body was being weighed down by the air itself, the stones beneath his feet clinging to his cloth shoes in an effort to bring him down, but even his reduced speed and strength was enough to deal with the likes of Monk Anand.
Enraged by his continued survival, the monk’s furious expression was almost comical in its exaggeration, but Goujian was not laughing as he dodged, parried, Deflected, and retreated, circling about the monastery courtyard in a desperate attempt to stay alive beneath the ensuing storm of attacks. Time was on his side, for not only was he acclimating to whatever restricting was in place, but his wounds were also mending as they fought without the need for focused Healing, an added effect Wisdom Vyakhya had Goujian incorporate when refining his physique. Even without these two factors however, his situation was not as dire as it seemed, for his foe was sorely lacking in actual combat experience. Despite his formidable physical prowess, Monk Anand’s attacks were all straightforward and guileless, making him utterly predictable in Goujian’s eyes. After a dozen exchanges traded in the blink of an eye, he finally had the measure of his foe and managed a second offensive strike, sweeping his greatsword low and forcing the monk to retreat. With a casual flip of his wrist, Goujian reversed the blow and charged into the fray, catching his foe off-guard and forcing him back yet again. Having seized the upper hand, Goujian pressed the offensive with a series of spiralling strikes, each reckless strike seamlessly leading into the next to force Monk Anand onto the back foot, a combination he learned from dutiful Wen Zhong.
Good child, good disciple. Even in death, he supported his Mentor and surrogate father, a good son right up until the end.
With their speed and strength so well-matched, Goujian was all but daring his opponent to take an unfavourable trade of blows and gambling on his enhanced physique to emerge victorious. As satisfying as it might be to outsmart an opponent, he would be hard pressed to win in present circumstances without using every advantage at his disposal. Wisdom Vyakhya was right, for aside from top-tier Peak Experts like Nian Zu, Akanai, Gongsun Qi and their ilk, there were precious few Warriors who could offer Goujian any challenge. A shame Monk Anand was not more experienced, and Goujian felt a hint of regret as their duel progressed towards an inevitable end as he outmanoeuvred his formidable foe and set out to deliver the killing combination. A warding riposte followed by a high to low slash, only to reveal it for a feint to follow up with a killing thrust, Goujian read the exchange twenty moves in advance and set out to make it so. Everything played out just as he envisioned, with Monk Anand dodging right from the feinted slash only to realize the trap too late, leaving him no option but to accept defeat as Goujian’s greatsword lanced towards his neck.
With victory in his grasp, the world went dark a second time, and again, Goujian feared for his life.
Awakening as the air rushed out of his lungs, he struggled to understand just what went wrong, but his addled mind could not make hide nor tail of the situation. Laid out on his back and staring at the sky, his body refused to obey his commands and remained limp and unresponsive. The greatsword was no longer in his grasp, his Domain Plating no longer in effect, and moving his eyes made him nauseous enough to almost black out once more. Long seconds passed as he lay there gasping for breath, his chest set aflame with agony from every heave and pant, but he put the pain out of mind while scouring his memories for what went wrong. The killing thrust had been delivered, the greatsword about to pierce Monk Anand’s throat, and then...
The world shattered and rumbled, but only from Goujian’s perspective. The battle continued unabated around him, but the monastery emanated a sense of threat and foreboding that only he could sense. The walls closed in around him as pure, unmitigated rage and rejection emanated from the furious monk, assaulting Goujian’s mind and soul which caused his body to freeze in fright, the primal, instinctive reaction of prey before the predator. Even then, momentum should have carried his attack to completion, but his Domain Plating unravelled before metal touched flesh and glanced off the monk’s robes with nary an impact. No, not his robes, but the very air itself as Natural Law rejected the blade and denied it purchase on cloth or flesh. Then the spade whipped about and knocked the greatsword out of Goujian’s feeble grasp, and in the same motion, Monk Anand advanced a single step and drove his free hand into Goujian’s chest, delivering an Amplified strike that crushed flesh, broke bone, and shattered organs with laughable ease.
A frog in a well indeed. Goujian’s physical prowess was near unmatched, but there was more to the Dao than the Forms could encompass. Only now did he sympathize with young Gen’s plight, for who could endure such a torrent of unexpected emotion without faltering?
Directing Chi to mend his injuries, Goujian pushed himself up on one elbow with great difficulty and scowled at his foe, who stood over him with one hand held in prayer while the other pointed Mahakala’s spade at Goujian’s throat. “The Right Livelihood means to abstain from causing suffering,” Monk Anand intoned, his eyes and tone laced with grim determination. “But you yourself are a source of suffering this monk cannot allow to exist any longer. May you fare better in your next life, apostate.”
As the spade drove down, everything shifted around Goujian, and he found himself several meters away from Monk Anand, whose spade was now driven into the ground. Standing atop the steel weapon as if it were a pliable wooden pole was none other than Wisdom Vyakhya himself, a sight which sent relief and regret coursing through Goujian’s body, glad to be alive but embarrassed for being so weak that his Divine Teacher was forced to personally intervene. “Not even a half-step Divinity,” the Wisdom began, his tone more curious than annoyed, “Yet you are stronger than you should be. How is it possible for you to Manifest your Domain to restrict this battlefield and injure my student without first Shattering the Void?”
Domain Manifestation? Goujian had never even heard of such a thing, but he had no time to ponder the implications while Healing his internal injuries. “Such arrogance, such sin.” Arranging his free hand in a Mudra of intent to argue with conflict, Monk Anand sneered and lectured the Wisdom. “This has always been your greatest flaw apostate, your pride and inability to see beyond your own Path. You believe that your Path was the only Path to Divinity, but all Paths invariably lead back to the Dao, so long as one has the time and determination required to see their journey through to completion. Expert, Peak Expert, Half-Step, and Divinity, these are all vague measures of strength used to gauge one’s progress along the Path, but this only applies to the Martial Path.” Straightening up and offering the Wisdom a glare of challenge, Monk Anand patted his chest and declared, “Your meaningless labels are nothing to this monk, for I do not tread the Martial Path. I seek the Dao, and in doing so, have found inner peace and happiness. What have you found on your Path of betrayal and bloodshed, apostate? Naught but sin and suffering as you compromise your morals and slip further and further from the Noble Eightfold Path.”
“Good, good.” Shoulders shaking with anger and resentment, the Wisdom’s body sank atop the spade as it bent beneath his increased weight. How this was possible, Goujian wasn’t entirely certain, as there had to be more than simple Lightening at work here. Even if this was the Wisdom’s real weight, unsupported by Lightening or even reversed to increase the downward pressure his body exerted, there was simply no way for his slender, frail body to contain so much mass. “You’ve hidden your progress well, as prodigious a young talent as ever, so let this senior here take the full measure of his junior’s strength and see where he sits upon the meaningless measurement of Martial Strength. For the purpose of upholding the Treaty, of course.”
Having said this, Wisdom Vyakhya made no move to attack, but Monk Anand’s expression twisted in exertion as the spade bent even more under the spindly Wisdom’s weight. Seconds passed with agonizing slowness as Monk Anand’s back bent with effort, his cheeks flushed and rage unsightly to behold. His feet barely above the stone slabs, Wisdom Vyakhya shook his head and sighed. “Manifestation is one thing, but you are sorely lacking in control, else this monk would not be able to easily do this.” The stones cracked underneath his feet and the illusion shattered as the world returned to whence it was, lacking in neither colour nor vibrancy, but somehow lacking in spirit and vitality, as if viewed through a thin veil that made everything seem just a little off. To Goujian, it was a rude awakening indeed, but as the subtle weight lifted off his mind and body, he found it so much easier to breathe. Not so for Monk Anand, who staggered in place as he spewed a mouthful of blood into the air, but still the man stood with body bent double and blood dripping down his chin while refusing to let go of his weapon.
The Warrior in Goujian admired his opponent’s unyielding tenacity, even as he took pleasure in the formidable monk’s unpleasant plight. Wisdom Vyakhya could not be said to have broken the Treaty, not when testing the limits of a possible Divinity, and so long as Monk Anand’s life remained intact, any injuries could be waved off as incidental. Whatever this Domain Manifestation might entail, it was clear it had something that could only truly be done by those who Shattered the Void, meaning that even though Monk Anand had somehow accomplished an incredible feat, his results paled in comparison to the real thing. Good news for Goujian then, as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, his injuries not yet wholly mended but still able to continue the fight. “If it pleases you Teacher,” he began, gingerly retrieving his greatsword from where it lay, “Allow this incompetent student to finish what he started.”
Waving a hand in careless approval as he stepped off the spade, Wisdom Vyakhya shuffled away into the crowd without looking back. Or at least he would have were it not for another monk calling him out. “So this is how you mean to reconcile our differences?” The monk in question was the same one who admitted to being used by Wisdom Vyakhya, an ancient, decrepit elder whose wrinkle skin hung loosely from his thin, skeletal frame. “By eliminating all those who refuse to accept your views without question? What happened to you, stranger whom I once called brother? You who were named for Clarity of Thought should have been the most open minded of us all, and it pains this monk to see you fallen so far.”
Snorting in open contempt, Goujian had no intentions of allowing his Teacher to waste his breath on a fool, but as he raised his greatsword to deliver a killing blow, the undernourished ascetic’s gaze fell upon him and drove the air from his lungs. There was no blow or impact, and yet Goujian was concussed all the same, unable to understand how these seemingly harmless monks were able to surprise him time and time again.
“Careful, Brother Dama,” the Wisdom warned, and the fog lifted from Goujian’s mind as his Teacher stepped in to defend him once again. “You have stood upon the precipice of Divinity for so many years, and no one prayed for your success more than this one, but if you mean to act here and now, then this one can only offer his apologies before sending you on to the next life. It would be a shame for one so close to the apex to have his Path cut short before having run its course, and this monk would grieve to see it happen.”
Deflating at the obvious attempt at intimidation, the emaciated Monk Dama spirits rallied as he straightened to full considerable height, which only made him seem all the more gaunt and haggard. “Threats and violence will not sway me from the Right Effort, not when this one’s mistakes are largely to blame. I will do as my conscience demands, and whatever may be, may be.” Raising his gaze to the Heavens, Monk Dama stood in place as two tears trickled down his cheeks, and though he spoke in what sounded like a bare whisper, Goujian heard the monk’s words as clear as day. “For decades, I denied myself the pleasures of the flesh in search of the way forward, abstained from food, flesh, and for a time, even the company of friends until recent calamities forced me out of secluded meditation. So much has changed in the time I spent locked away, and now I look back on those years and wonder why I ever even bothered. What use is Divinity if it costs us everything we hold dear? I have given so much in pursuit of this goal, but now, it seems so meaningless and empty as those who I considered friends and family war amongst themselves. Is this my trial? Must I sever these ties of karma binding me to mortality before I can ascend to Divinity? This I cannot do, for my conscience will not allow me to watch my brothers suffer so, not when I have the means to save them. If their lives are the cost of Divinity, then I will not pay it, because then it would be better to live and die as a mortal, unfettered and free.” The battlefield brightened as the monk glimmered in place, his frail body emitting a soft, golden glow, and beside Goujian, Wisdom Vyakhya hissed in surprise. “Perhaps that is the lesson we are here to learn,” Monk Dama continued, and Goujian’s heart frozen in his chest as the Heavens came alive around him, surging down towards the emaciated monk as he pressed his palms together as a string of wooden beads materialized around his hands and forearms. “That True Divinity is not meant for mere mortals after all.”
For the second time, the monastery shimmered around them, but this time, the difference was as stark as night and day. The soft golden glow permeated every square centimetre in sight, even somehow illuminating the shadows without casting any more. Plants sprouted from between the stone slabs and blossomed into various exquisite flowers, while fruit-bearing vines formed and matured to ripeness all along the monastery walls. As if this weren’t enough, fallen Chosen and monks alike began picking themselves back up all around them, those who had yet to die finding their bodies whole and unharmed once more. Even the corpses on the ground had their wounds mended by this holy light, but their soulless bodies stayed where they lay, which came as a relief to Goujian because at least now he knew there were limits to what Monk Dama could do. Even though nothing about the bony monk had physically changed, his bearing emanated warning and threat without ever meaning to, a testament to the power he now wielded.
The power of the Heavens themselves.
“And so the Void has been Shattered,” Wisdom Vyakhya muttered, unable to hide his astonishment. The declaration sent a jolt of awareness through Goujian’s mind, and he could only lament at how far he still had yet to go. It was both awe inspiring and underwhelming at the same time, to see someone take that final step with so little pomp and circumstance. A Divinity was born today, but Goujian would not have ever guessed if not for his Teacher’s explanation. Despite the torrent of Heavenly Energy still surging around him, Monk Dama was just as old and decrepit as his mortal form from mere minutes ago, which just didn’t seem right. Where was his renewed youth and increased vigour? Where was his overwhelming power and majestic character? Aside from the strange golden glow, there was nothing that made the wizened old monk stand out, and Goujian took personal offence at this glaring transgression.
Heedless of their thoughts, Monk Dama lowered his head and fixed his gaze upon the Wisdom. “Junior Brother Jorani,” he said, speaking to the confused half-rat standing slack-jawed in the crowd, his clothes still burnt and tattered from Gen’s fiery conflagration, but his skin healthy and whole once again. “I fear this might be the last lesson I can give, so bear witness to my actions and use what you learn as your conscience demands.”
A gilded replica of Monk Dama stepped away from his body, only this monk was younger, healthier, and far more intimidating to behold, his former self cast in golden flesh somehow made whole in reality. Wisdom Vyakhya moved to intercept, only to be blown away by the first exchange, and before the clouds of dust and shattered stone obscured his sight, Goujian saw none other than the Ancestral Mammoth stride forth to meet the golden Warrior Monk in battle, their fists raised and on course to collide in a veritable clash of Divinities.
“Stay your hands!”
Silly to think that mere words would be enough to stop this clash of titans, but interrupt them it did as both combatants took a step back. The gargantuan behemoth of a Defiled Divinity was far more clever than he appeared, a cunning Ancestral Beast who not only survived where few others could, but thrived as well. He knew just how disastrous an exchange between Divinities could be, and was unwilling to commit without first uncovering the full extent of the Enemy’s strength. As for Monk Dama, it was clear that violence was not his first choice, and thus he too took a step back, or rather his wizened body stood in place as he recalled his golden incarnation. Striding in-between the two formidable Divinities with a confidence Goujian admired, Monk Anand shook his head and sighed. “Mentor would never allow the sacrifice of so many merely to save his own life, nor does this monk care to burden Brother Rain with the guilt of so many deaths in his name.” Narrowing his eyes in the Wisdom’s direction, he asked, “Even after seeing all that your actions have wrought, are you still wholly set on this Path of death and violence? You would rather see the Treaty shattered than take a step back and reassess your view?”
“My faith and conviction have never been stronger,” Wisdom Vyakhya declared, but Goujian heard just a hint of doubt in his teacher’s voice, his thoughts thrown into disarray after seeing how easily Monk Dama Shattered the Void to overpower him in a single exchange. “My Path is clear, and if the Brotherhood insists on standing in my way, then my conscience is clear.”
“May the Heaven’s have mercy on your soul, apostate.” Closing his eyes and bowing his head, Monk Anand’s shoulders heaved in silent sigh before turning to Monk Dama. “Senior Dama, if you would be so kind as to guide our guests to the Abbot’s place of convalescence. I believe if either one of them were here, they would agree to this monk’s decision, loath as I am to make it.”
“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Weeping as he accepted the command, Monk Dama’s regret was clear as day, but so too was his reluctance to do violence. This was a man who cherished life, not one who took them, as evidenced by his Healing of friend and foe alike. Perhaps he did it to give everyone a chance to survive the ensuing clash, though as Monk Anand pointed out, everyone present would have likely died if Monk Dama traded blows with the Ancestral Mammoth in the monastery. “Come,” he said, his radiance dimming and flaring out before he and his golden incarnation disappeared from sight, and Wisdom Vyakhya and the Ancestral Mammoth followed suit, alongside the other Divinities Goujian suspected were lurking in Concealment. Only just barely able to catch a glimpse of their movements, Goujian Cloud-Stepped after his teacher in hopes of seeing this through to completion, for he’d come too far to let Falling Rain’s death go unattended, especially considering how easily Monk Anand capitulated to their demands.
Because regardless of what he told himself at night, Goujian would never rest easy until he saw the Undying Falling Rain dead and burnt to ashes, for there was no telling what miracle the man might accomplish next.
Chapter Meme