Ave Xia Rem Y

~~~

The damage done by those in higher realms is not easily fixed.

The phenomenon is not purely an aspect of raw power. A cultivator in the Heaven Realm can grab a normal knife, use normal strength to slice someone's cheek, and leave behind a normal cut. So long as that person is in the Nascent Realm or below, the cut will not heal. The blood might clot, but the flesh will never mend. The wound will keep opening and bleeding throughout the years.

Mud has seen it happen.

The wounds Bright Sword left on him do not have that degree of permanence, yet Mud still winces with every step he takes. It has already been nearly an hour since he fought Bright Sword, but it is only recently that his legs have healed enough to support his weight. Normally, it’d be unthinkable for someone in the Heaven Realm to remain wounded for this long. Bright Sword’s grasp on his Dao must be profound.

That or he’s not in the Heaven Realm at all.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t another one of the annoyances from the Dead Plains.”

It is the first time Mud sees the Fleshcrafter in person. When they fought in the Dead Plains, the man was always inside his creations. Despite that, Mud has no trouble recognizing him. A Qi like his is unmistakable. Mud knew he was there from the moment he crossed the doorway.

“This spatial realm is quite something. To make so many brilliant flowers cross my path… This Mud feels a little too blessed,” Mud says as he bows his head in greeting.

The Fleshcrafter does not reciprocate the gesture.

“Blessed?” He scoffs. “Say what you truly mean. Providence has abandoned you.”

Mud keeps his face blank. Then he thinks about it a little more and allows himself a weak smile. What point is there in denying the obvious? He cannot possibly hide his wounds from someone as skilled as the Fleshcrafter, nor is he blind to how unfortunate this situation is.

Mud is in no condition to fight someone like him.

“It is as you say,” Mud admits. “This is unfortunate.”

“One would think you would be used to it,” the Fleshcrafter says. “An abomination like you cannot possibly have known fortune. I, however, am a favored son of Heaven. This encounter proves it. I have already killed one of the annoyances from the Dead Plains. You shall be the second one. Truly, I am blessed.”

The smile falls off Mud’s face.

“I beg your pardon. This Mud seems to be having some trouble comprehending your meaning.” He tilts his head. “It almost sounds as if you’re saying-”

“I am saying I already killed the upstart who dared to try to usurp my creations,” the Fleshcrafter cuts him off. “Do not tell me that makes you angry. Why would a Heaven Realm cultivator care about someone not even in the Earth Realm?”

Mud is hundreds of years old. The time he has known Qing Jin is minuscule compared to that. He’s simply a promising junior. In that sense, the Fleshcrafter is not wrong.

And yet…

“I do not believe you are right,” Mud says.

“Denial will not help you.”

“No, you misunderstand this Mud’s words,” he said, raising his Qi. “Beyond a shadow of a doubt, you are the most unfortunate person here. This Mud will guarantee it.”

~~~

The soldier who dies with his neck crushed by Murong Bang is truly unfortunate. Brave, but unfortunate. He only has himself to blame. Had he not been so brave, Murong Bang would have never found him.

As a man in the Emperor Realm, Murong Bang could have easily gotten out of the way the moment he sensed the Storm Dragon’s spatial realm expanding. However, why would he ever do something so boring? He wants He Bin’s still beating heart in his hand, and the only way to get it is by going forward.

Now, if only the coward would bother showing his face.

“He Bin! You spineless son of a diseased sow! At least have the stones to come out and fight!”

Predictably, He Bin does not show up to answer his challenge. In this spatial realm, he cannot possibly hear him, and even if he could, he’d probably run the other way. The only thing Murong Bang can do is rely on that which he has always relied on.

Violence.

Always and without fail, Murong Bang can continuously head to the path that will result in the most violence. His path has served him well multiple times throughout his life, but it falls short under these circumstances. It keeps leading him to those with the courage to face him instead of those who are hiding from him.

The only person who can lead him to He Bin is the Storm Dragon, and that’s another bastard who hasn’t reacted to any of his insults. He’s probably busy having fun with the brat right now. Not that he hasn’t been guilty of the same thing lately.

Weak. Naive. Stupid. There is no denying the brat is all three of those things, but if that was all there was to him, he’d have killed him already.

Murong Bang can see it. All those who met the Black Dragon can see it

He kicks down a door and stops.

He feels it. He senses it. A presence he has never felt before, yet completely unmistakable. Immediately, Murong Bang knows exactly who is inside this room.

He steps into it regardless.

It is a simple room illuminated by a lit fireplace. There is not much furniture, and the only person there is sitting on the floor, their body covered by a simple green cloak.

“So that’s how it is,” Murong Bang says, chuckling. “I get it now. That’s what He Bin’s been playing at all these years. Cheeky little fuck.”

The person rises. The fire goes out. The room is quiet. Not even the wind dares to flow.

“Given your reputation, I find it hard to believe you understand anything at all.”

“You’re not the first person to say that to me. Those people usually die,” Murong Bang says, slowly cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. His Qi rises as he prepares for a fight. “I might actually have to kill Bright Sword today. A pity.”

“You knew about Bright Sword?”

“He’s been at my side for years. How could I not know?”

“...and you kept him at your side regardless?

“Good help is hard to find,” Murong Bang replies, shrugging. “Should I have killed him for being from the other side of the Dead Plains when one of him is worth more than all my idiots? That’d have been the most idiotic thing of all.”

“I would not know. I have never needed anybody’s help. However, I suppose it will ease your mind to know that Bright Sword does not know of this part, though he might have already sensed me. The Eternal Flame Clan’s actions forced He Bin to escalate accordingly. Quite pathetic of him, really.”

“That sounds like him.”

The idea that this person could be lying to him does not once factor in Murong Bang’s mind. Lies are for people who seek to gain something. This person does not seek to gain anything from him.

He grins.

“However, on this one occasion, I am actually grateful to the bastard.”

The aura of an Emperor Realm cultivator expands like a shockwave across the room and even distorts the spatial realm around them.

“Impressive. However, you will die today. You realize that, right?”

Murong Bang bares his fangs and attacks.

~~~

Golden fire dances in an alternate space.

Feng Zhi and Yuan Tao clash with speed and fury. Their battle flows from one room to the next, leaving nothing but cinders in its wake. Eternal Flame is present in such large quantities that it looks like a river of molten gold.

It is brilliant, dazzling, and unspeakably deadly.

If they had an audience, most people would marvel at Feng Zhi’s ability to keep up with Yuan Tao despite the difference in cultivation. Though the battle has raged on for a while, there are no serious wounds on his person. Even if he is the Eternal Flame Clan’s Young Master, that he can fight against someone in the Heaven Realm while being in the Earth Realm is an astonishing feat.

Anyone above the True Realm would be able to tell how hopelessly one-sided the battle truly is.

Feng Zhi and Yuan Tao have exchanged hits multiple times. That much is true. However, Yuan Tao has never once seriously attacked Feng Zhi. Every time Feng Zhi’s flames rush at Yuan Tao, the latter meets them with nearly equal force. Never enough to overwhelm Feng Zhi. Never so little that the clash is equal.

Yuan Tao always uses just enough power to win.

The frustration on Feng Zhi’s face and the confidence shining in Yuan Tao’s eyes tell the true story of the battle. It is not just that Yuan Tao is in the Heaven Realm. He could easily overwhelm Feng Zhi with speed and brute strength if he wanted to, but that is not what he is doing. This battle is, first and foremost, a contest of their mastery over the Eternal Flame.

And even in that area, Yuan Tao is proving to be his superior.

The dancing embers in the air flock to Yuan Tao’s side. A wave of his hand turns them into doves. They fly over his shoulders and chirp before rushing at Feng Zhi like arrows.

The birds do nothing other than harmlessly sink into the flames around Feng Zhi. From the beginning, the attack lacked any sort of potency. Yuan Tao is just showing off the difference between them.

Even the state of their barriers is a testament to the gap between them. Feng Zhi’s body is cloaked in Eternal Flame. It beats and dances over his body, scattering sparks with every breath he takes. By contrast, the flames around Yuan Tao are completely still. They move only when he wills them to move.

It is humiliating.

Yuan Tao might be older and in the Heaven Realm, but Feng Zhi is the Young Master of the Eternal Flame Clan. He has received his father’s guidance. He has access to ancient texts written by his ancestors. Meanwhile, Yuan Tao has only received Elder Fa’s instruction. In this one area, he has no right to be Feng Zhi’s superior.

Feng Zhi attacks and attacks, his heart burning with shame. No matter what, he cannot stop. If he falters or, worse, tries to run away, Yuan Tao will take it as an invitation to finally take the initiative.

If that happens, he’ll die.

“Is this all you are capable of, cousin?” Yuan Tao asks him, laughing as he shapes the Eternal Flame into a pair of fierce tigers.

They roar and run towards him, their large claws tearing apart the floor. Feng Zhi stomps the ground to send forth a wave of golden flames, obliterating Yuan Tao’s creations with brute force.

However, no matter how fierce, his flames can only crash harmlessly against Yuan Tao’s barrier.

“All those tutors, all those ancient scrolls, the guidance of your own father… You had all those things, and these brutish displays are your best?”

They are not, but what point is there in trying to compete with Yuan Tao in finesse? Feng Zhi might be able to shape his flame, but he cannot replicate such intricate detail. One of the many doves Yuan Tao has created lands on the older disciple’s shoulder. It is a simple movement, yet it denotes tremendous skill.

“I suppose I am being a little unfair. I am older than you, after all,” Yuan Tao admits. “Besides, you didn’t have all those three things I listed. Not really.”

Feng Zhi’s body goes very still.

“After all…” Yuan Tao smirks. “Your father never really taught you much, did he? Saying he did would imply he could stand the sight of a failure like you.”

The fire erupts.

Had they been in the outside world, at least one entire street would have been obliterated in the ensuing blaze. Since they are in the Storm Dragon’s realm, the damage is limited to the room they are in. Feng Zhi roars as he propels himself towards Yuan Tao and smashes a fist coated in golden fire into the older disciple’s barrier.

His teeth are bared. His eyes burn. His Qi roars. A single thought blazes in his mind’s eye.

Destroy.

Anger must be tamed. It must be channeled and controlled if one is to grasp success. That is a lesson most people are given throughout their lives, and Feng Zhi is no exception.

Right now, Feng Zhi has a different lesson in mind.

The wind will rage and destroy houses. The earth will tremble and bring down cities. The waters will rise and flood towns. Make no mistake, son. Every path can lead to destruction. Fire just happens to be closer than most. Some people see the Path of Destruction as something to be wary of. Something to be feared. Those people are right. Regardless, properly channeled Destruction will bring about something new and better.

It is one of the few lessons his father gave him. Unfortunately, it is one that has never borne fruit. Try as he might, Feng Zhi never found what he wanted to destroy. All the signs of Destruction were there in him. That is what all his tutors and even some of the Elders told him. However, Feng Zhi could never move to the next stage. He could never find the moment when the destruction of something became an all-consuming purpose, a need that drove him to any method.

Feng Zhi desperately tries to make the Destruction of Yuan Tao become that moment.

It is the only path forward. He can not match Yuan Tao in anything else, but if he were able to grab hold of Destruction while Yuan Tao is still toying with him…

“Don’t tell me this is all your anger is worth, cousin!” Yuan Tao laughs as he lets Feng Zhi keep attacking, perfectly safe behind a barrier of Eternal Flame. “It is no wonder your father abandoned you!”

That is exactly right.

Not officially, of course. Feng Zhi has lived a life suitable for his position. He has never wanted for anything. However, it is undeniable that his father stopped paying attention to him once Feng Hao’s talent became obvious.

Feng Zhi likes to tell himself his father did what was sensible. Feng Hao is a genius, a shining jewel. Even Feng Zhuo cannot compare when it comes to raw talent. For his father to prioritize him is only natural.

Even if it hurts.

Feng Zhi screams in anger and frustration. Sadness is not needed here. Resignation is pointless.

Anger.

He needs anger.

If he cannot get angry enough at Yuan Tao, he’ll die. Yuan Tao will keep targeting other Fengs, and that path will lead him right to Feng Hao.

His brother could die.

Feng Zhi repeats the sentence again and again as he attacks Yuan Tao. He imagines the sight of his brother’s broken body. He tells himself that he needs to destroy the person in front of him. He drags up countless painful memories to feed his rage.

It’s not enough.

Yuan Tao easily slams a fire-coated palm onto Feng Zhi’s stomach, breaking his barrier. He then twists his hand and brings it up, his fingers drawing deep scars across Feng Zhi’s face. Before Feng Zhi has finished falling, Yuan Tao twists on his heel and kicks him right in the chest. He even sighs while doing so.

Feng Zhi crashes against the wall.

“Pathetic, cousin. Pathetic,” he says as he slowly approaches the fallen Young Master. “I suppose it is to be expected.”

It is, isn’t it?

Rather than feel ashamed of his failure, Feng Zhi can only feel resigned. It is the same every time. No matter how hard he tries, he can never really do anything. He could not meet his father’s expectations. Feng Hao had to do that for him. He could not stop the civil war between his father and uncle from exploding. His grandfather let it rage on his own terms instead. He could not protect Feng Hao. It was others who protected him in the Dead Plains.

He could not save his mother.

A demon hunt gone wrong, they said. There was nothing that could be done, they said. Unfortunate things just happen. Being stronger, smarter, or swifter, none of it matters sometimes.

“They were right,” Feng Zhi whispers.

“Babbling already?” Yuan Tao asks as he bends down and hoists him up by the neck.

“I can’t do anything,” Feng Zhi says. “I try and try, but I can’t do anything.”

Things happen, and he’s not strong enough to control them.

He’s a pathetic man who cannot destroy a single thing worth destroying.

“But Feng Hao is not like that!” Feng Zhi shouts, holding onto Yuan Tao’s arm. “You like Feng Hao, don’t you? I’m not worthy, but he is, right? So please… just this once… Please choose me!”

“Have you gone mad?” Yuan Tao looks at him with disdain. “What in the blazes are you even talking about?”

To his surprise, Feng Zhi chuckles.

“I am not talking to you…”

Something cold settles in Yuan Tao’s stomach. Instinct forces him to look down just in time to see a single spark of Eternal Flame leave the tip of Feng Zhi’s fingers and touch his barrier.

Blinding light follows. The Eternal Flame engulfs them both, roaring as it threatens to twist the spatial realm.

When the blaze is over, Feng Zhi falls.

Yuan Tao’s body crumbles into ashes.

The Eternal Flame made its choice.

~~~