Wang Li stretched his back, luxuriating in the way his muscles slid across each other without pain. He hated being bedridden, which was slightly ironic given how long he’d spent convalescent this past decade.
A pity, that great exertions came hand in hand with long recoveries.
Fang Tao’s parting gift had broken his spine. And almost every other physical structure in his torso. His last second reinforcement had diffused the force of the blow across a wide area, but all that had served to do was keep him in one piece, rather than two.
He’d spent the first week within a single Li of where he’d landed. The first day had been like a dark dream, he’d flickered in and out of awareness like a candle in the wind. Through the pain-haze of those first waking hours, he’d dragged himself from the crater he’d found himself in. His arms had still worked, and pain was a teacher, not a commander. Driven by more animal instinct than thought, he’d searched for any tree hollow or tiny cave to sequester himself in. In the end, he’d settled for a large hedge, his strength spent.
Then began a full week of monotonous cycling. In a way, he was lucky. It should have been two, if not three. But Disciple Zang’s storage ring had contained some truly remarkable healing pills, which supplement his own supplies nicely. He supposed the man would have needed them, with his own lackluster attainments in bodily cultivation. But even a peak foundation establishment pill was not enough to restore his Steelsworn body on its own. It was one of the unfortunate downsides of such advanced bodily cultivation. But their potent medical energy had drastically reduced the amount of spear qi he’d needed to rebuild himself, and helped refill his depleted channels as well.
It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t even in his top five worst recovery experiences. Not being actively hunted was a pleasant change of pace.
Now free from the hedge he’d spent his convalescence, Wang Li enjoyed a small meal of salted pork and pickles. It was a pity that even Disciple Zang’s ring was not powerful enough to protect its contents from the greedy hands of time. He would have loved to be able to simply store a proper meal and unseal it later. How ironic, that most of those rings sat on the fingers of elders who treated grain liberation as a dogma, instead of the convenience it was.
Despite the food, his stomach churned with anticipation. It was time. He could feel electricity in the air, as if Heaven were watching, already preparing its tribulation.
It was a pity, he thought, that only the birds would witness his triumph. Glorious deeds deserved an audience. Alas, he was no longer a sect prodigy, whose achievements merited that sort of attention. He had cast that aside, when he took up the spear of the Dragon Emperor, and he was no craven to regret his choices.
Casting his qi towards his own ring, Wang Li pulled a spear from it. And then he pulled another.
Weapons piled up around him. Spears first, then swords, and then even stranger things, knives and arrows, glaives and even a chakram, a bladed disc he’d claimed from a foreign warrior. Slowly, he walked through the valley he’d chosen, stabbing weapons into the ground. He scattered spirit stones as he walked, trusting them to fall to their proper places.
Scholars were far too precious about formations. Was it really so complicated, to simply place things where they should go? What need had he to consult the Book of Changes to see that the chakram ought to rest atop a stump? That the spears should be in the outer ring, and the swords the inner? Perhaps if they’d spent more time outside and less time with their nose in a book they’d see that nature had the answer right before their faces. A tree could arrange its leaves ten thousand different ways, and each one could be perfect.
Wang Li shook his head. His thoughts were wandering. He could bully the scholars for their blindness when he was a core formation master.
He could feel it already, the beginnings of a hurricane of steel, a steadily building stream of weapon qi joining the electricity in the air.
It was finally time to put deeds to his words. Every disciple dreamed of this moment, the moment when they would finally lay their challenge at the feet of Heaven. The moment when they finally gave truth to their empty boasts.
The core formation tribulation. The first tribulation. The moment when he would truly defy the will of Heaven, rising beyond not merely the station the kings of men had ordained for him, but the lifespan Heaven had allotted.
He stood in the center of his formation, the spear of Qin Longwei in his hand. The flow of qi intensified, its sheer intensity tinting the air the faintest shade of silver. He pondered the weapon in his hand.
It needed a name, this storied lance now cast aside. It was a beautiful thing, a long shaft of lacquered wood blacker than a moonless night. The head was leaf-bladed, silver steel that glowed almost blue beneath the noonday sun, engraved with the name of a smith long dead, a mortal genius surpassed by his creation. Instead of the traditional horsehair tassel, a short pennant of blue silk hung from the joint where wood met steel.
Qin Longwei might have begun it’s legend, but Wang Li would finish it. What was a suitable name for such an inheritance, cast aside and then taken by force from an unworthy heir?
“You are Inauspicious Fate“ He told the weapon, his voice as gentle as a father naming their firstborn child. What better an end for his enemies, than the one he’d been destined for?
He shifted, adjusting his posture to complete the formation. This one wasn’t an echo of the battlefield, the glory of the victor. No, this formation was a promise unfulfilled, a challenge. Its proper anchor was not a warrior who held his spear in readiness, but one who took it up with newfound will.
Wang Li began to cultivate, letting instinct guide him. He began as he’d been taught, with the first patterns of the Scripture of the Heaven-Piercing Spear. Qi flooded his channels, drawn to him like rivers flowing out to sea. The sea within his dantian grew wild, stoked to savage fury as he forced more and more qi within the fixed space. As the storm raged within his heart, he adapted his cycling pattern, doing his best to accommodate the furious power. He’d never seen the core formation manual of the scripture, not even Zang Baihu had been given a copy before he needed it. That was fine, he didn’t intend to walk his whole road in the shadow of the emperor.
His technique was imperfect, but his will was flawless. More and more qi poured into him, and the formation met the demands of his dantian, then surpassed them, drawing in qi from all across the countryside. Every dragon vein, buried deep, every blade raised, whether in righteous fury or a hunter’s reverent indifference, the weight and glory of it all of it funneled towards him.
Then he heard the shouting in the distance. Well, he wasn’t exactly being subtle.
Wang Li smiled. Perhaps Heaven had heard his laments, that his ascension would go unwitnessed. He had no doubt his audience would be unfriendly, he had few friends in this empire now, and Heaven did ever favor granting wishes in the cruelest of manners. That was fine. This day, he embraced their cruelty, and loved them for it.
“Let them come. Let the whole world bear witness.” He whispered to the sky. “I do not fear you. Why would I fear men?”
He wondered who they were. The army? A noble’s retinue? His former brothers? Not the Imperial Guard certainly, that particular doom would have come in silence. He would know soon enough.
Men streamed into the valley in ones and twos, taking up position in a perimeter around them. They wore the iconic scalemail of the Qin army, but bore no standard he recognized. Spears and swords bristled as they organized into formations of their own. Fools, in baring steel against him, they only added to the majesty of his working.
Eight men charged into the forest of blades around him, two spears aimed at his heart, six swords positioned to ward off his retaliation. On another day, on another field, he might have yielded before that assault, abused his superior speed to reposition and take a more advantageous angle.
Today, he would not move before even a hundred mortal men.
With a gentle flick of Inauspicious Fate, he redirected one of the rivers of weapon qi pouring into his formation. The weight of a hundred swords crashed into the soldiers, stopping their charge instantly. Swords flashed as they parried desperately, trying to swim against the current. Blades chipped and skin wept crimson as they failed to block the greater flows within the torrent. In mere moments, their resolve broke, and they retreated.
Straightening his spear, Wang Li returned the formation to its previous shape. He was no butcher.
More and more men advanced out of the treeline, surrounding him in a wall of bodies. Some of them, he could feel dimly through the chaos of his formation, foundation establishment captains.
He smiled. His formation had been good, but this, this was far better. He was a spear cultivator. He would advance upon the battlefield.
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Still, he’d only seeded a hundred odd spirit stones through his formation. The power that fueled it would not last forever.
It was time.
Wang Li formed his will into a spear, and turned it inwards. His fingers ground against the cool lacquer of Inauspicious Fate, the material left the slightest bit tacky to the touch by the traces of sweat on his palms.
If these ants thought they could survive sharing his tribulation, let them come.
He drove the spear home, and shattered the walls of his lower dantian. He gasped as power flooded out of him, leaking out into the world. Wang Li strove mightily, refusing to let his now unchained qi abandon him.
He laid claim to all the qi around him, in this one moment, his cultivation was unbound by the limits of his form. He would not let it go to waste.
He saw it now, so clearly he wondered how he’d ever not known. The next steps of his path. He was the point of the spear, it would all begin and terminate in him.
Through the pain, he raised his eyes to Heaven.
“Your move.” He spat through bloody teeth.
Above him, the sky raged. Clouds swung low, a grasping hand seeking to snuff out his light. Deep within them, a dark fire churned as lightning gathered.
With all the weight of the world, a single finger descended to wipe away the ant that dared defy the order it would impose upon the cosmos.
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Qin Xifeng was having a good day. Most of them were, these days. You could only live so long in a gilded cage before you realized that even if you could not control your life, you could control your reaction to it.
All those tutors from the Transient Vessel had gotten at least a few things right.
And who would have thought that a mere decade later, she would be wandering the wilds with her own command? All it had taken was a series of disasters and external pressure enough to threaten the very future of the empire.
All the same, she wasn’t sure she would trade these fraught days for more peaceful ones.
Sipping her saucer of tea, she favored the newly promoted Colonel Chen Yu with a nod. He was getting better at brewing. If he was to be her right hand man, he would have to learn how to provide for her comforts. Lesser attendants had an unfortunate habit of dying when knives came out, and it was so very tedious training a new one.
She could feel it in the air, stirring. A mind to fuel the storm. A tribulation was coming.
It would be their man. It all fit the pattern. An audacious theft, then forcing his breakthrough, to prove to himself that he needed neither the sect he left behind, nor the weapon he stole.
“I do believe they’ve found him.” She said mildly.
“Princess?”
“Wang Li.” She clarified.
Colonel Chen rose to his feet, abandoning his breakfast, and began strapping on the rest of his armor.
“How do you know?”
“Listen, Colonel Chen, listen. The earth and sky are the very worst of gossips.”
She ignored the look he shot her, and finished her breakfast. The scouts would manage. His records showed he was not one to revel in slaughter. She didn’t truly want to apprehend him until after he completed his tribulation anyway. He would be so much more useful to her, if he did manage to leap the dragon gate. So very many so called cultivators bottlenecked at the peak of foundation establishment.
It was a surprisingly good breakfast, for a force on the move. It certainly helped that she’d brought a proper chef with her. Not an immortal one, but a mortal who had completed their apprenticeship under one of the imperial cooks.
It was almost miraculous, what a single skilled person could do when given a dozen untrained but very enthusiastic helpers. Even the soldiers were eating well, if nowhere near as well as her. Finishing her congee, she rose just as a scout burst through the doors of her tent.
“We’ve found him.” The man barked. “He’s holed up in a slaughter formation in a valley north of here.”
“I know.” Xifeng said. “I was just finishing breakfast.”
She paused. It was good to reward servants, when they performed acceptably. “Your haste does you credit. Feel free to help yourself to my leftovers.”
There. The spread had been too large for one person anyway, but she liked the variety. And she did so hate waste.
“Come, Colonel Chen. We would not wish to be late.”
The man visibly bit his tongue as he followed. He needed to have more faith in his subordinates. Two or three foundation establishment captains should have arrived by now, they should easily be enough to prevent undue casualties.
The run was short, Colonel Chen managing not to lag behind too much. For all the man’s flaws, he neither lacked resolve, nor neglected his body.
They arrived just as the first bolt fell.
Wisely, the men had retreated. They watched from a safe distance as lightning pounded down upon the lone figure standing amidst a field of blades.
A single finger of the Will pressed down upon him, borrowing its form from dense gray clouds bound by ligaments of lightning. Even from here, she could feel the weight of its suppression as it pressed closer to the earth. Early nascent soul equivalent perhaps, nothing remarkable. Wang Li seemed to primarily be relying on his spear intent to clear the tribulation, striking back directly at the lightning that rained down upon him. As the bolts fell upon him at a drummer’s cadence, he would strike back with his spear, drawing the bolt to them. A gleaming white spear intent dispersed the strike.
“His tribulation has already begun.” Colonel Chen said.
“Thank you, for stating that for the benefit of the blind.”
Xifeng watched as he dodged a bolt, letting it strike one of the less important flags of his formation, before taking the next directly on his chest. She approved, it was good to pace yourself, Heaven always dragged these things out. And tribulation lightning was an excellent way to temper the body. It became harder and harder to find good whetstones as one advanced.
Colonel Chen held his tongue for a moment, but soon ventured more unnecessary tactical advice.
“We should wait until he completes his tribulation before attacking. He’ll be flush with the power of a fresh advancement, but it should clear his formation completely. We could also move in at the end, before the storm fully clears, but if Heaven takes offense and redoubles its efforts, we could well see every combatant slain. If you did choose the latter course, we should limit the initial strike to the captains. If either of us take the field, his tribulation is certain to increase.”
“That is true. We will be waiting for him to complete his tribulation, before attacking in earnest.”
They had an audience now, a pair of captains kneeling behind them, awaiting commands. She would have to break them of that habit eventually. She could make her voice heard wherever they stood, their duty was to lead their tenths, not to shadow her.
“A wise decision, princess. I’ve seen what happens, when foolish commanders do not treat an enemy undergoing tribulation with the respect it deserves.”
Her brow furrowed. What sycophancy. He left unvoiced the obvious, that they could have intercepted him before his breakthrough, if she hadn’t finished breakfast. Wrong in any case, she’d only sensed him when the potential for tribulation had reached sufficient intensity that he could have triggered it at any moment. But he could continue to labor in ignorance, she didn’t feel the need to justify herself to him.
“There is a third option.”
“Princess Xifeng?”
“I could disperse his tribulation, you know. It would be bloodier than a straight fight, but well within our force’s capabilities.”
“Of course, princess.”
He didn’t believe her. Still, at least he had the good sense not to doubt her aloud. It wasn’t that surprising, he’d seen the wrath of Heaven, and recently as well. He’d never seen hers.
“It's good to let a stallion run itself out, before you try to break it in.” She continued. “But he’s more valuable as a captive after he’s advanced anyway, and far from strong enough to be a serious threat to our detachment.”
“I didn't take you for an equestrian, princess.”
“I'm not one. Horses are boring animals. But dragons and men really aren't that different from stallions. They all want the same things, form, temperament, and intelligence are all rather superficial differences in the end.”
They watched as Wang Li danced and fought through the rain of lightning. His formation was in tatters, his robes scorched black by strikes he allowed past his guard. Only the spear he’d stolen was untarnished. It wasn’t the most interesting tribulation transcendence she’d ever seen, most of her brother’s attempts had been more creative. But it was working, and wasn’t that what mattered in the end? Relying on his formation to resist Heaven’s suppression was textbook, but effective.
No, the only truly interesting mystery on display here was the boy’s spear intent. That white glow was forming the foundation of his defense, less dispersing bolts of tribulation lightning that outright annihilating them. A purer manifestation of Destruction? The ever classic Hunger? Whatever it was, its range was lackluster, his mastery too limited to effectively project it.
The storm was slowing now, readying itself for its final assault. Qin Xifeng already knew he would succeed. He wasn’t the type to choke in the final moments. If he’d failed, it would have been in the planning. In a way, she mused, he did exactly that.
“Ready the men.”
When Qin Xifeng spoke, the sky carried her words to every ear under her command.
“Full squads, defensive formations. Nobody except Colonel Chen risks direct melee exchanges. Clear the remains of his formation and harass him with ranged attacks. Elemental only, don’t give him weapon qi to redirect. If he tries to break out, let him, don’t attempt interception.”
One day, these men would be legends who could bring down talents like this with a thousand cuts. Until then, they would stay out of the way.
“Colonel Chen.” She continued, her voice carried to his ears alone. “Engage him up close. Expect prolonged exchanges to break your weapons. Fight defensively, try to bait out his techniques. Once my domain is established, retreat to the edge and intervene only at my command.”
He might have doubts, but he was learning. There was only one response for him to give.
“Yes, princess.”