Impossible. Inconceivable. Unimaginable and unthinkable.

And yet still this came to pass.

Such were this Sovereign’s thoughts as he recovered from his initial shock and struggled to comprehend this stunning reversal of fortunes. The plan had been so simple it could even be described as perfection. Forcibly draw the boy’s soul into the Void where he would be left dazed, confused and separated from his Elemental Spirit, and thus vulnerable to illusion and manipulation. Here in the Void, strength of Will reigned supreme, an area in which this Sovereign should hold the upper hand against a tribal boy of only twenty years, even one as exceptional as Falling Rain. What the boy faced in Meng Sha had been but a fraction of this Sovereign’s true strength, for he was not fool enough to risk sending his eternal soul so far away from his body. No, the ‘Zhen Shi’ in Meng Sha had been but a mere Natal Soul, a puppet powered by the Death Energy harnessed during the slaughters carried out in the harbour and anchored in place by the Bloody Confessor’s Transcendent. Here in Shi Bei was this Sovereign’s true body, mind, and soul, with the full weight of his Will bearing down upon Falling Rain, yet rather than succumbing as expected, the boy shook off his initial confusion in the blink of an eye while wholly oblivious to the carefully crafted illusion that should have driven him to despair.

Except how was it possible for the boy’s true soul to be so strong? The power Falling Rain’s Natal Soul displayed in Meng Sha was due to his unification with the Elemental Spirit, but the boy’s true soul had yet to do the same. What’s more, this Sovereign’s Ascension had done more than bolster the strength of his physical form, but his mind and soul as well, a change which allowed him to sense the disparate entities hiding within Falling Rain’s Natal Palace. There were five minor Natal Souls buried deep within, feeble and anemic entities that would crumble within an instant if let loose in the Void, as well as one Natal Soul almost as powerful as the boy’s true soul itself. The minor Natal Souls were being used to control his weapons and oversee the battlefield, but this Sovereign had been unable to determine what the major Natal Soul’s purpose might be, though he’d sensed its presence before in Pan Si Xing. This powerful Natal Soul was likely something akin to this Sovereign’s puppet in Meng Sha, a tool to affect matters far away from the boy’s physical location without risking his eternal soul, but that did not explain why it was still operational. A fool’s gambit, placing so much power and trust into a disassociated entity which could easily seize control of the Natal Throne in a moment of weakness, but this division of power was the only reason this Sovereign was able to forcibly seize the boy’s true soul in hand.

Half a soul should be weaker than a whole soul, especially one which had been Refined with the Death Energy of countless Spectres and corpses, yet even then, this Sovereign found himself at an impasse with his foe. A miscalculation, for despite dividing his soul in two and severing so much of it already, the boy’s soul was more powerful than most. The work of the Elemental Spirit no doubt, which combined with the boy’s innate talent of Devouring allowed him to mend and nurture his eternal soul to levels previously unimaginable by a mere mortal. The boy’s Will was also stronger than expected, but more than that, it was nonsensical and absurd as well, projecting baseless images here in the Void that struck this Sovereign with the weight of a thousand mountains and left him reeling with confusion.

An angry, dark skinned-man with the most ridiculous hair and moustache while shouting vulgarities in an over-exaggerated manner, followed by a pale, faceless commoner wearing gloves fashioned to look like bear arms while proclaiming the right to carry them, two meaningless images lacking sense and significance in this Sovereign’s eyes and mind, yet to the boy, they were so compelling and meaningful that their connotation was made clear upon first glance despite their farfetched absurdity and baffling delivery. The first was a call for reckoning and retribution, heralding a justified punishment brought on by one’s own actions, while the latter was a pun of some sort that was beyond this Sovereign’s understanding, one which filled the boy with unmitigated glee and delight.

The interpretation of these images had not been left to this Sovereign’s own devices, but forcibly impressed upon him by the boy. This was akin to crafting a Rune with the power of his mind alone, for what was a Rune but a means to convey Intent to the Heavens Above? A technique older than the Empire itself known as crafting a Dharmic Icon, one the boy used with an ease and familiarity even this Sovereign could not match. Materializing two abstract and intricate concepts in an instant without preparation was impressive enough, yet these Dharmic Icons were enough to not only affect this Sovereign’s thoughts, but overpower and supplant them. Were he ignorant of their significance, then the power of these Dharmic Icons would affect only the boy and nothing else, yet seeing them for only an instant was enough to forcibly impart their significance to this Sovereign and cause him to be affected by their power as well. This was a battle of Wills, and his Will was being influenced by the Icons and their ingrained significance, leading him to accept that the boy’s retribution and right to bear arms was wholly fair and just.

These were not the tools of a boy with barely two-decades of life, for such compelling and iconic imagery required years of emotional and intellectual investment to develop, and the conviction behind it was so powerful it bordered on the religious. This was the very reason why the Emperor had turned against the Brotherhood, for there was a time in which a monk wearing full ceremonial regalia drew more respect and veneration than even the Grand Marshal or Prime Minister. This sort of blind faith in the Brotherhood’s trappings gave them power over the masses, not just the power to sway hearts and minds, but power in a more personal sense as well. External though this power might be, to see faith in others was to reinforce faith in oneself, meaning that to an ordained monk of the Brotherhood who’d Developed their Domain, any ceremonial robes might as well be Runic Robes, and every spade a Spiritual Weapon. The same could be said of their rosary beads and wooden fish drums, and so armed with the tools of their faith, they were able to relay their Intent to the Heavens themselves to draw upon its Energy without risking its Wrath, to say nothing of their droning chants that served much the same purpose except in audible form.

Even all this was not enough to threaten the Imperial Clan, for every Runic Craftsman was able to do the same, but there were other benefits to be had from faith, namely the reverence of the masses. In their hearts, the Emperor should stand above all else, yet the commoners of the Imperial Clan found it difficult to venerate an absent figure as opposed to the monks who were always happy to lend a hand. And so the Brotherhood was banished, and in less than half a century, their place in the hearts of commoners had slipped until they were little more than farce.

And now, Falling Rain, a boy of twenty-one years, somehow possessed the foresight to craft these images for his own use, ones so fixed in mind that he could convey their significance through presentation alone. This was a Dao akin to Music, Poetry, Dance, and more, a Dao of Artistic Expression that spoke to the soul itself. Such mastery was unthinkable in one so young, for how could one convincingly convey the vicissitudes of the human spirit without experiencing it firsthand? The boy not only had the ability to do this, he’d also prepared for this battle beforehand, and not just in the last few hours either. It would have taken weeks to secure one image in mind and fix upon it the intended symbolism, and even longer still to resonate so strongly with it that it could impart that symbolism to others. It wasn’t as simple as saying, “The Dragon and Phoenix Seal symbolizes the Emperor’s Authority”, for you yourself and others must wholeheartedly believe it, respect it, fear it, and even venerate it before it can become a true Dharmic Icon, one capable of moving even the Heavens themselves.

This was the level of faith and conviction Falling Rain had in his baseless imagery, nonsensical likenesses of random individuals whose origins even the boy himself was unaware of. There was no adoration or reverence instilled within the Dharmic Icons, only a sense of frivolous ridicule that he found amusing for no discernable reason at all, yet this did nothing to detract from the effectiveness of the Icons, because amusement was the boy’s sole reason for crafting them. All this and more was conveyed to this Sovereign alongside the rest of those images’ significance, and he marvelled at how anyone could place so much meaning into so insignificant an Icon. Nor were these the only two Icons the boy possessed, as this Sovereign discovered to his chagrin as the boy appeared behind him without warning. Clad from head to toe in black, stylized clothing unlike anything he'd ever seen before, he had his hand atop his head which sported a broad-brimmed hat worn with a rakish tilt which made him look like even more of a fool, and yet everything about his carefully crafted attire held significance and meaning in spades. “Nothing Personnel Kid,” the boy uttered, while driving a single-edged longsword clean through this Sovereign’s soul, a weapon wholly unlike the boy’s Spiritual Sword yet possessing the same level of personal significance. The misspoken word seemed wholly intentional as well, and while this Sovereign was unable to make heads or tails of why that might be, it made perfect sense to Falling Rain as he inflicted untold damage upon this Sovereign’s soul.

This was far from a fatal blow, for the soul was a single undying entity unlike the body or mind, but this Sovereign’s circumstances were unique and unprecedented. His body, mind, and soul were linked in harmonious Balance through the corrosive death energies gathered by his Spectres and Transcendents, meaning damage done to his soul would manifest itself in reality as well. Not only this, but damage to his soul might well affect his hold over his Spectres and Transcendents, for his Natal Palace was no longer fixed in existence and the souls of his prisoners no longer trapped within the Dharmic Icon which was his robes to keep them under control. Now, the struggle for domination was far more active and dynamic than before, requiring a bare pittance of effort to keep them in check, but a pittance he might soon be unable to spare if the boy should continue his rampage here in the Void.

Gathering his wits about him, this Sovereign faced his foe and let loose with a roar of defiance that sent the boy hurtling away through the darkness of the Void. “You think yourself capable of resistance?” The words struck home with the force of a thunderclap, and the boy flinched as this Sovereign’s Will pressed him from all sides and a hundred swords crafted from Death Energy pierced through his torso. “You are but a worm, an insignificant child flailing about in ignorance, and this Sovereign shall derive great pleasure in tearing your soul asunder, for – ”

“Don’t care didn’t ask plus you’re bald.”

The sheer contempt, disregard, and absurdity of this dismissal caught him by complete surprise as the boy rallied behind yet another carefully crafted Dharmic Icon, this one of a pale, bald man in unhealthy lighting and odd eye coverings with two middle fingers extended upwards. Much like with his other icons, the overt derision and disdain was overlaid atop a foundation of frivolous amusement, and this Sovereign was at a loss as to explain why. He wasn’t even truly bald, only hairless by choice for the moment since expending his reserves of Heavenly Energy to grow hair would have been a waste given how it would naturally grow in time. This single moment of confusion and distraction was all that was needed for Falling Rain to escape from his plight, not through outright superior strength of Will, but canny intellect and incomprehensible tactics. Appearing before this Sovereign once more, the boy turned into a moustached man with curly hair that came down to his shoulders. “My name is Inigo Montoya,” he declared, which was almost as surprising as his visual transformation, and while it felt as if he was about to launch into a lengthy speech, he promptly concluded, “Prepare to die.”

A piercing thrust delivered lancing pain as the boy’s blade took this Sovereign through the throat even before the message was finished, but Falling Rain’s greatest weakness was his unfamiliarity with how a clash of Wills should play out. Attacking with swords and spears was not as effective as one might think, for it was the Intent and energy behind the attack that delivered the bulk of the damage. So long as this Sovereign held firm to his conviction that his soul was unaffected by this representation of a physical attack, then its effect would be minimal at best. This was doubly true given Falling Rain’s conviction of how such attacks should work, too focused on causing ‘bodily’ harm to truly convey the most effective Intent. What’s more, with so much Death Energy at his disposal, this Sovereign was far better equipped to damage the boy’s soul, for this was a power which went beyond even the Energy of the Heavens, for there was no known force in the cosmos capable of avoiding death.

To this end, this Sovereign crafted a Dharmic Icon of his own, the character ‘Death (死)’ written and infused with the energies of death itself. None too subtle, but the direct approach was often easiest and this Sovereign’s patience was at an end. The dark inked character of Death crackled with murky luminescence as it shot out towards the boy, growing larger and denser as it approached him so that he would recognize its significance. The character engulfed him in its necrotic energies which annulled what life energy was left to him, and while the boy’s soul was eternal, his memories and personality were constructs of his mind and thus contingent on the energy of Life to sustain themselves. Valuable though those memories might be, there was still much to be gleaned from the boy’s soul itself, for it represented the raw Energies of the Heavens for anyone to use freely. What’s more, another half of the boy’s soul was still residing within his body for this Sovereign to seize in hand, allowing him to have the best of both worlds as it were. Having learned from his mistakes this first time around, he would be prepared the next time he targeted the boy’s body to draw out what was left of his soul, a feat which was only possible because there were multiple minor Natal Souls still residing within that could substitute for the boy’s eternal soul.

Except just as the character of Death was about to erase all that was left of the boy here in the Void aside from his eternal soul, his figure erupted into a puff of smoke that obscured all senses. From it emerged a pale, freckled, red-headed man, one who swung his arms and shook his hips to a blaring tune that shocked the Uniter to his core. The music was pleasant enough, but it filled him with such exasperation and indignation aplenty as well as bitter regret and personal dissatisfaction for having seen this once again, having been beguiled into attacking an all too obvious decoy. No, not again, nor all that obvious, as this was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on this fire-haired man, but the boy had seen him countless times before to form this impression, one that went hand in hand with the dance and music.

“So you have chosen… death.” Uttered with a ponderous gravitas that should have been beyond the reach of one Falling Rain, the boy’s words filled this Sovereign with chilling tension and hostile suspense, words which sounded from behind him. Three or four Dharmic Icons was already more than the boy should possess, yet he continued to reveal them without a care in the world, with each one seemingly more powerful than the last. As this Sovereign turned to face his foe, an aged and powerful being stood to meet him, one with hair of snow and a piercing stare that guaranteed delivery of that which was promised. A most formidable opponent indeed, and for the briefest of moments, this Sovereign forgot that his foe was merely a boy rather than the grizzled veteran of a thousand battles depicted here before him. It wasn’t just his appearance which shook this Sovereign so, for this was a gentleman who embodied tenacity and lethality in spades, one who commanded respect by virtue of demeanour alone.

Two staves appeared in his hands as his countenance took on a ghastly complexion, and the world shook beneath this Sovereign’s feet as he was sent tumbling out through the Void. “I gave you the chance of aiding me willingly,” the formidable veteran began, every word dripping with cold fury and bitter contempt as he advanced with staves pointed. “But you… have elected, the way of… PAIN!” Agony lanced through this Sovereign as reality came unhinged, leaving him unable to tell up from down, left from right, and pain continued to wrack him for long seconds before he was able to rein his emotions back in check. Breathless and shaken by this ordeal, he found himself beset by fear and anxiety for the first time in recent memory, his courage sapped and conviction shaken as he tried to make sense of his foe’s implausible strength. Only now did he realize that he had not moved a single centimetre, and that all his pain and disorientation had been imparted upon him, a sense of weakness and incapacity forced upon him by yet another set of Dharmic Icons. This time, they didn’t merely impart their significance upon this Sovereign, but drew him in to experience a humiliating defeat first-hand, a truly intricate and elaborate working which could not have come from Falling Rain.

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No, this was the work of someone far older and wiser, someone whose understanding of the Dao of Artistic Expression touched upon the realm of True Divinity itself.

Taking a moment to rally his thoughts and raise his defenses, this Sovereign drew himself up to full height until he stood towering above his diminutive foe, yet Falling Rain seemed none too bothered by their difference in size. Practice no doubt, for the boy stood head and shoulders beneath most Martial Warriors and was not so easily intimidated. Nor was this Sovereign able to utilize the Spectres to threaten Falling Rain in any way, shape, or form either, for it would be akin to using a fish to threaten a wildcat and likely to have the reverse effect. All this Sovereign could do was draw upon the death energies still coursing through him, for death was antithetical to life and thus repugnant to all living creatures on a base, instinctive level, yet he sensed none of this from Falling Rain. The opposite in fact, for the boy almost seemed drawn towards this Sovereign as he unleashed the energies of death, transfixed in place and mesmerized by the darky, swirling actualization of the antithesis of life.

A strange one, this Falling Rain, but at least now, this Sovereign better understood what he was dealing with.

“You are no mere child, but an old soul birthed anew,” he accused, his tone clipped and terse so as to hide his fear and trepidation, for the boy’s reaction proved this to be true. Surprise and alarm, followed by an effort to appear calm and confused, but this Sovereign knew it all for false. This was most alarming, for he only knew one other person in existence who knew how to transfer his eternal soul to a new body, but now there was a second, else this Sovereign would have recognized Falling Rain’s soul at first glance. This was the only feasible explanation possible for the boy’s incomprehensible mastery of the Dao, to say nothing of how he kept one step ahead of this Sovereign for the last two years without eliciting any suspicion whatsoever. A masterstroke of genius, playing the part of bumbling buffoon who inexplicably stumbled his way to success time and time again. The sheer amount of calculation required to pull off such a deception was staggering to even consider, but this Sovereign had been fooled every step along the way. “Who are you?”

“Heh.” Relief and amusement flashed across the boy’s face, but only for an instant. “Don’t you know who I am?” he asked, transforming into a hulking figure with an iron open-faced helmet and armour that left his muscled arms and rippled mid-section completely bare. “I’m the juggernaut, bitch!” The armoured form crashed into this Sovereign with enough force to rattle his thoughts, but he rallied in an instant and struck back with a spear of Death Energy that sent his foe reeling in pain. Were Falling Rain here in full strength, then this Sovereign would have no choice but to flee for his life, but here and now, they were at worst equally matched, though he suspected he held the upper hand. If not for Falling Rain’s seemingly unending supply of Dharmic Icons, then this Sovereign would have long since won this battle of Wills, for he wielded the power of death itself, but the boy had nothing save for the Energy of the Heavens. Powerful though he might be if facing another False Divinity, this Sovereign had surpassed the limits of the Mortal Dao to touch upon the Immortal Dao, which afforded him no small amount of protection against the Heavens who rejected him. As such, even though he was unable to consciously manipulate this unfathomable Immortal Energy, coming into contact with it alone had raised the quality of his body, mind, and soul to a level mere mortals could only dream of.

Meaning this Sovereign could afford to trade blows with his opponent and achieve victory through attrition.

Materializing an entire armoury of weapons to wield against his foe, this Sovereign infused every last one of them with the power of death before delivering them unto his foe. A crude offensive, but one written in the language Falling Rain was most familiar with, and therefore most effective. The boy responded by dodging and weaving about, seeking to avoid these attacks without realizing that they were driven by Will and Intent rather than force and momentum. Not that this Sovereign minded much, for this gave him a chance to calm his nerves and rethink his prior conclusions to realize that he’d been gravely mistaken at best. If Falling Rain was truly the puppet of some old, powerful soul, then it made no sense for him to be so weak. The boy’s own Path had provided this Sovereign the answers he needed to soar to such great heights, so why was Falling Rain lagging behind? There were only two possible explanations. Either he was chasing a more complete Path and not yet ready to advance, or he was utterly incapable of doing so for some reason or another, and this Sovereign suspected the latter.

The boy made too many fundamental mistakes for it to be anything else, because an older and wiser Cultivator would have long since realized that Will and Heavenly Energy alone were not enough. The boy even had the tools needed to injure this Sovereign, namely the Sword Intent he’d incorporated into his corporeal attacks, yet here in the Void, he relied on countless Dharmic Icons to attack and defend, like a child flailing about with hands and legs instead of reaching for the dagger at his belt. Impressive though it might be to see him conjure so many different and powerful Icons without need for thought or effort, no amount of unbreakable, patriotic shields, oversized rapid-fire rifles, or handsome dancing fools could save him now. It was merely a matter of quality, in that Death Energy was of a higher quality than the Energy of the Heavens, for even Creation and Destruction were beholden to death.

All this and more proved that Falling Rain was not an old soul inhabiting a new body then, but more likely a youngster who’d been provided some answers by an outside source. The Elemental Spirit perhaps? That was the point at which the boy became a thorn in this Sovereign’s side, though he knew not how an inhuman Spirit could bestow knowledge or memories to another. A matter worth studying, though he would first need to secure an Elemental Spirit in hand, a feat even the Emperor himself was unable to accomplish with all the resources of the Imperial Clan. Even if this Sovereign were to capture Falling Rain, he had no intention of trying to secure the Elemental Spirit as well, for he lacked the means to contain or even threaten it. A lamentable loss, but one this Sovereign had long since come to terms with, and now that his anger and frustrations had been thoroughly vented, it was time to move on before it was too late.

Despite suffering several hundred blows laced with Death Energy, the boy’s Will was still strong and unyielding. This wasn’t to say he’d escaped unscathed, for the caustic energies were eating away at his soul and would bring him low in time, but this Sovereign had underestimated the boy’s resolve. What’s more, he had yet to truly understand just how outmatched he really was, so this Sovereign set into motion a plan to show Falling Rain the true depths of despair. “Foolish little worm,” he intoned, still directing his weapons to chase the boy about as he flew through the Void atop an obese, oddly-shaped cat spewing rainbows out its rear end, rainbows which eroded even the Death Energy of this Sovereign’s attacks. “In possession of so much knowledge yet lacking the wit to use it.” A risk to imply the boy had the tools he needed in hand, but belittling his achievements was a tried-and-true method of weakening his will. There were other options available as well, but time moved differently here in the Void as opposed to out in the material world, where this Sovereign’s gaze was still locked with the boy’s as they stood across from one another on the battlefield of Shi Bei. Not even a second had passed, and the boy’s physical self had yet to move, save to blink in confusion and sniff the air twice. Odd that, but this Sovereign gave it no thought as he materialized a Scrying pool within the Void so that the boy could watch what transpired next.

“Ours is a battle that will be long and arduous indeed,” this Sovereign continued, even as he acted in the material world and launched an attack at the Old Wolf Calamity, a scene he reflected in the scrying pool with copious artistic liberties. “But even in the unlikely event that you escape this Sovereign’s clutches, little worm will return to find naught but blood and sand to greet him in Shi Bei.”

There it was, the first sign of the boy’s wavering Will as his odd cat dissipated into nothingness, for he was panicked and desperate to return to his corporeal form, but how could this Sovereign allow him to run off so easily? He’d long since secured this section of the Void with his Domain, and the boy was readily trapped within, flying about in circles without ever touching the outer edges as he frantically sought to escape. Such a simple illusion, yet he gave himself wholly over to it in his haste, fooled into thinking he was making progress by breaking barrier after barrier when all he was doing was wasting his strength. To think, this Sovereign had been wary of this foolish, emotional child, one who possessed power aplenty, but no knowledge as to how to properly utilize it. All the while, this Sovereign manipulated his Scrying pool to show an illusion of the Old Wolf dying in a single blow. A bloody and barbaric affair, as the image of this Sovereign drove his fist through the Old Wolf’s chest, but this was what the boy would expect in a battle between Divinities. If this Sovereign crafted a scene using skills too complex and incomprehensible for the boy to understand, then he might spend too much time puzzling out the details and either see through the illusion or benefit from it.

For the best lies were those built around a kernel of truth, as this Sovereign readied to do battle against Old Wolf Calamity out in the material world.

The boy continued to flee with all haste, and this Sovereign manipulated his perceptions to make it appear as if he and the Scrying pool was always just in sight as they chased the boy down from behind. It mattered not how fast the boy moved, for here in the Void, distance was not measured and fixed, but shifting and ever changing. This Sovereign could easily have placed the boy upon a looping track and watched as he ran circles in place, but that might well have given away the illusion, so a more active approach was needed. All the while, he continued to attack the boy with weapons infused with Death Energy, whittling away at his strength and resolve by inflicting pain and suffering aplenty.

In reality, not even a single second had passed, time enough only for this Sovereign to trade a single blow with the Old Wolf, yet the boy might well have experienced an eternity of running in that same instant as time stretched itself just short of infinity.

Focusing on his efforts in the material world, this Sovereign growled with frustration as his foe proved hardier than expected. The Old Wolf was finished testing the waters and unleashing his full might with every attack, and hardy though this Sovereign’s Ascendent form might be, he could not easily disregard the Old Wolf’s attacks. There was a hint of a higher power at work in his strikes, a wisp of what might well be a burgeoning Intent, that of Fist, Fang, Claw, or something else altogether, though what, this Sovereign was unable to say. Were he still a beast beholden to his instincts and cunning, then the Old Wolf might well be strong enough to contend against this Sovereign, for Spiritual Beasts were formidable in their own right, even if they were far from approaching the realm of a Divinity.

Eager to end things quickly, he utilized Death Energy in his next strike against the Old Wolf, and the results were surprising indeed. Rather than commit to the attack, the Old Wolf retreated with all haste before this Sovereign’s attack, or more accurately, away from the Death Energy gathered in the palm of his hand. A moment of thought was all he gave it, but then he could spare no more as his lapsed attention caused the gathered Death Energy to escape his control and turn his hand into a withered husk. Discharging the errant Energy at some hapless fool upon the battlements, this Sovereign refocused his efforts and drew Life Energy into his desiccated hand. Easier said than done, for he possessed no ability to directly control Life Energy save to direct where it could not go with Death Energy. Roundabout though this method might be, it was enough to restore his hand in appearance, if not bring it back to full function and strength, and he made a note to be more careful about Death Energy and avoid exposing his true body to it until he was more proficient with its use.

Unfortunately, this lapse in judgement and focus had allowed Falling Rain to see through this Sovereign’s illusions, and he was no longer making any effort to escape. Instead, he was immersed in quiet study of this Sovereign’s soul and readying yet another attack. With sword in hand, he formed up in a familiar stance, readying himself for the charge, only to launch himself forward without warning as he executed Balance on Windy Leaf and Pierce the Horizon in tandem. Akanai’s Ground Shrinking Strike, a most formidable melding of movements, but even here in the Void, the boy had yet to reach the same level of mastery as his Grand Mentor.

Which only affected his speed, and not the lethality of his thrust, for the boy had finally thought to put his Sword Intent to good use.

An attack easily avoided, but in doing so, this Sovereign confirmed the boy’s suspicions that his Sword Intent was deadly even in a battle of Wills. A sword was a tool for killing, and Sword Intent comparable to Death Energy in many ways, while the same could be said of various other Weapon Intents. Death Energy was merely the foundation upon which most Weapon Intents were built, but even this alone was not enough to cause this Sovereign alarm. The problem was that the boy’s Sword Intent was not pure, or better to say it was not solely Sword Intent, and try as he might, this Sovereign was unable to identify the blended Energy within the boy’s Sword Intent and had no desire to find out first-hand.

“Tch,” the boy began, sucking his teeth in annoyance as they faced off once again, as if he viewed this clash beneath him. “Another illusion.” Even without looking, this Sovereign knew that the Scrying pool was showing himself decapitating another Divinity, and he realized the error he’d made. The battle was too one-sided, but also too neat and orderly, with his foes being dispatched one by one instead of three or five at a time. Even the Refined body, mind, and soul of one bordering on Immortality was unable to keep up with the demand of carrying out so many actions at once, and he had to look away from the boy for a moment to deal with the Old Wolf. A mistake to do battle on two planes at once, but he was committed to both fronts now without room for retreat, not unless he was willing to give up the prize he’d worked so hard to claim.

Radiating Death Energy from one hand in the material world, this Sovereign warded off the Old Wolf’s aggression and reset the battlefield to match the impasse within the Void. Much as he yearned to strike a Divinity with this power, they were too fast and guarded against him, so he could only unleash it upon another unsuspecting mortal, an utter waste of effort considering most Peak Experts were either fleeing or Concealed. Hardly a barrier to this Sovereign should he desire to hunt them down, but with Death Energy in hand, he lacked the luxury of time to do so. Focusing once more on the true goal at hand, he towered over the boy within the Void and wielded his innate superiority over him. Most in the boy’s place would quail and waver, or at least entertain their doubts and anxieties, but he barely paid this Sovereign any mind and instead glanced about the empty Void in quiet study.

“Is this your Natal Palace?” he asked, and though this Sovereign would not have answered, the boy shook his head as he discovered the truth for himself. “No, you’re not the type to float around in just your robes. Even if you don’t care for luxury or ostentation, you’d use it as a weapon against me, to make me feel inferior and beneath you.” Aggravating how accurately the boy had acquired this Sovereign’s measure, even claiming how many of his most useful stratagems were ‘right out of the abuser’s playbook”. A document this Sovereign was most eager to read for himself, but thus far, he’d been unable to find any mention of such a treatise, but he would have all the answers in hand soon enough. “You’re also distracted,” the boy continued, which came as something of a surprise, since this Sovereign expected the boy would have attacked if he’d noticed. “The fight out in the real world not going as smoothly as you’d like, yea?”

It wasn’t, especially with the Cloud Divinity stepping in to attack this Sovereign from afar, taking over for the Old Wolf who had set his sights upon the Mammoth Divinity. That could not stand, for the foreign musclebound fool would be slaughtered within an instant unless he utilized power beyond what the Heavens would allow. The Treaty was still necessary for now until this Sovereign was able to familiarize with his newfangled strength, and even better if it could remain in place until he uncovered the secrets of Immortal Energy. Keeping half a mind on the boy, this Sovereign rearranged matters on the battlefield in an effort to keep the battle from getting too out of hand, which was easier said than done while being battered about by a Divinity Blessed by Air and Water.

“So if this isn’t your Natal Palace,” the boy continued, wholly unaware of this Sovereign’s struggles in reality, “Then that means you’re either a Natal Soul like what I saw in Meng Sha, or a real soul set loose in the Void. Either way, I assume you gotta be tethered to your real body in some way, considering a body without a soul tends to die and you’re the type of control freak that wouldn’t let a Natal Soul run around free.” All meaningless musing to this Sovereign who had his hands full keeping the Old Wolf from tearing the Ancestral Mammoth’s head off while imparting in no uncertain terms that the latter was to abide by the Treaty no matter what.

“I wonder then,” the boy uttered, readying his sword in hand, “Is it possible to sever the connection between a soul and body? Probably, right? Only one way to find out.” This seemingly innocent question sent chills down this Sovereign’s spine as he watched the boy materialize thousands upon thousands of glowing blue swords within the Void, a tremendous effort of Will which he accomplished as easily as turning a hand. “I am the bone of my sword,” he chanted, and his swords sang in harmony with his words as he revealed yet another Dharmic Icon he had in hand. “Steel is my body, and fire my blood.” The Energy of the Heavens surged in tempo with his uttered cadence, a Sutra of his own devising which instilled his conjured weapons with Sword Intent aplenty. “So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works.”

Impending doom. That was what this Sovereign saw as the azure blades shot forth, some driving directly towards him while most sought to sever the Void itself and anything in between. The boy knew not the danger of his actions, ignorant of what lurked within the cracks and crevices of the Void, creatures from a higher plane of existence whose mere attention alone might be enough to bring doom to their reality. In his ignorance, the boy almost brought death to them both, and even at the speed of thought, this Sovereign suffered no less than nineteen blows as he retreated from the Void and returned to reality, where he found his physical form pierced and bloodied by the immaterial swords of Falling Rain. The boy himself returned to his body a moment later, more familiar with traversing the Void than this Sovereign gave him credit for, and as their eyes met once again from across the battlefield, this Sovereign knew not how to respond to his smug and mocking sneer.

“Fine then,” this Sovereign uttered, thoroughly infuriated by the boy’s actions as he discovered how slow his wounds were Healing. “If you will not submit, then you will be made to submit.”

A declaration made in error, for these were words spoken in the heat of anger when cold logic dictated he cut his losses here and withdraw. Alas, his orders had already been given alongside his spoken declaration, and he’d hesitated too long to withdraw them. Surging forward as one, his Ascended Transcendents roared as they closed in to do battle, a handful of whom carried express orders to target Falling Rain’s friends and family. Let this Sovereign see how smug and calm the boy could be after watching all his loved ones die before him.

And if even this much was not enough to secure his prize in hand, then this Sovereign would leave Shi Bei in smoking ruins as a warning to all who would dare defy him.

Chapter Meme 1

Chapter Meme 2

Chapter Meme 3