The Fourth Fall - Chapter 43 preview

The battle had only lasted minutes at this point, not even a quarter of an hour. Many mortals, or cultivators close enough to mortality with only a few Body Cleansing meridians opened, were still struggling to reach a point of safety. Some of the unluckiest, the least fortunate or protected were curled up, catatonic from the clash of spiritual energies and daos as the Nascent Soul cultivators did battle. A few - a lucky few - were experiencing moments of intense enlightenment, blockages in their cultivation torn asunder as the vagaries of battles and the pressures of survival forced them to transcend their limits.

High above, the sun still glimmered, though its radiance had been hidden by the gathering storm clouds. These clouds were moving now, at a fast clip, drawn forward by gale force winds as their shepherds chased after the fleeing figure beneath. Some cackled, other heckled and a scarce few cheered on the cultivator that rushed back to battle, attempting to flee the oncoming tribulation.

The landscape that Wu Ying flew over, that the winds and his spiritual sense informed him of were vastly changed. More so, the world was expected to alter even further as the flying fortress of the Cai finally finished disgorging their contents and began the process of shutting doors and rising into the sky.

In the moments while he had been struggling to achieve dominance, to grow to become a match for the Cai King, the land had been torn apart. A new lake had formed on the northern side, mist lingering across the watery depths even as soldiers skirted around the edges of the growing watery impediment. Those few foolish enough to enter the water were pulled down, drowned by unknown phantom assailants, even as the mists and fog confused the mortal soldiers, leading them to their deaths as well as sending them astray into battle with one another.

Between the Shen and Wei spiritual instruments, the land glowed red as spilled energy and conflicting daos tore it apart, living lava and burning foliage highlighting this land. Powerful chi weapons were unleashed, only for moving barriers to block the attacks; Elders and guards on both sides doing combat. However, even with the Shen defenders split; the Wei were taking a beating as loyallists did battle with traitors and the safeguards in the Wei palace were left half-formed, entire gardens and structures torn down.

The Seven Tier Immortal Pagoda was, however, looking less than pristine. The attacks by the king, by the Wei and the occasional lofted shot from the Cai fortress had done damage to the building causing walls to buckle, for balcony doors to be blown apart and the contents within to be thrown about. Yet, none of those attacks had pierced the pagoda itself.

In the meantime, the Nascent Soul cultivators had showcased the reason they had survived so long. Another sneak attack, laid long ago and utilising the remnants of the formation, by the Eight Stanza Patriarch had caught the Six Jade Gates Patriarch in the midst of the formation of the third jade gate. This attack, of them all, had done the greatest damage for it had torn into the man’s own cultivation base and his connection to the gates.

Now, the Six Jade Gates Patriarch had retreated behind the impenetrable barrier of the first Jade Gate, such that he was untouchable. Whether he intended to exit again, and what he would bring with him, was unknown.

Rather than waste time on him, the pair of Nascent Soul cultivators from the Shen had joined in the battle against the Guerilla General and the remaning two swords of Iron Gorge. Together with the Wei Nascent Soul cultivators, they had pulled the battle higher into the sky, above the ground that they had so casually trampled upon to allow the less powerful an opportunity to survive.

Even so, the after effects of the attack below were still being felt; with the non-Core Formation cultivators being shepherded back to places of safety rather than focused on doing battle.

As for the Vanguard of the Cai, they who were meant to be the forefront of battle, who had crushed so many before...

Elder Hsu, returned to the battle along with Elder Pai and the Generals of the Shen were admist them. Their usual cohesion was nowhere to be seen, their strength significantly reduced. The group of Shen cultivators were tearing into them now, tigers amidst a herd of horses.

Dangerous and deadly, but still they might be pulled down. Would, eventually, as the initial shock and injury was over.

In the meantime, Yang Mu; now in control of the word magic utilized by Yi Lai contested with the King, locking him down and crushing his ability to connect. Rather than joining his men or saving the vanguard, he concentrated on the pagoda itself which had begun to rise. Intent on tearing it apart and destroy the glowing light that filled the battlefield and inhibited himself and his soldiers.

New hills, a new lake, deep furrows and a boiling lava formation. Fires everywhere, entire forest torn down or sheared apart by a casual missed strike. A world altered, and even powerful cultivators forced to take shelter or risk being torn apart. All this, Wu Ying took in as he returned.

Moments.

Then he was there, bringing with him the wrath of the gods and an immortal soul finally freed and joining with his immortal body.

***

Lightning cracked, as Wu Ying raced the heavens. He moved as swiftly as the wind, gale force winds uprooting trees and calling forth dust and debris ahead of him. He raced onward, pouring all the energy from his now broken Core, from his immortal soul that was merging and tearing apart his immortal body together. All these years, he had been feeding it slowly, developing the immortal soul with unaspected, inspirationless energy as the Formless Soul method dictated. Or so he had thought.

But how often had he broken through via divine inspiration? How great were those moments of enlightenment that he had, when he had found his true path. Again and again, he had progressed via heavenly chi, and yet, he had rejected it. Been angered by the demands placed upon his friend, upon himself.

Raged against heavenly order, even as he came to understand it. It was the duality of man, that they could understand the need for social hierachies, but yet reject their existence for themselves.

He could not accept a heaven that looked away from mortal needs, seeing only the greater good.

He could not be the wind, that blowed through the world without care; never touching down in any space, forever rootless. Though he might traverse the lands, longed to do so; he had roots.

Friends. Family. A lover.

Those he would not fail.

Wu Ying’s body betrayed itself, the merging impossible as two seperate but closely related daos warred within him. At the same time, the merging and the calling of the Heavenly Tribulation was happening, without fail. He could not escape the judgment of those above, and so, he did the only thing he could imagine doing.

He brought it with him.

There was no surprise attack. On the other hand, when Wu Ying neared, he plucked deep within and pulled forth the full strength of the Wandering Dragon sword style. The Dragon’s Truth, his lunge attack, exploded forth with even more power as he empowered it with the full strength of his dao and body. The speed that he covered the last few hundred feet surprised even the wind cultivator, for he had never wielded the full strength of his immortal body before.

A blink, and he was across the space, a motion so fast that even Meng Dai was barely able to bring his armoured forearm to block the attack. It sent the tip of the blade shifting from enterring via the side ribs into his heart to skim across the edge of the breastplate. Even as he was pulled backward by his footwear, even as the wind blocked his movement, the piercing screech of metal upon metal tore across the surroundings.

Moments later, the pain of the explosive lunge, the damage from forcing energy through a body that was experiencing multiple mini-tears roared through him. Wu Ying’s tip shifted off-course ever so slightly, the attack that might have pierced the breastplate and gorget turned.

The pain was indescriable. Even having been gravely injured multiple times, run through, stabbed in the chest, muscles and bones crushed; this was a different kind of pain. It was a conflict of visions and understanding, a spiritual form of injury that tore at the soul and manifested in the body.

Even so, decades of pushing himself, of hurting himself allowed him to recover.

Just in time to slip the return punch to the side and then deflect two cuts.

Faster, they moved. Wu Ying found himself moving faster than Meng Dai now. Even as he fought, his immortal soul was merging, empowering his body. Tearing it apart, leaving minor and lingering injuries all over. Injuries that Wu Ying knew would become weaknesses in the long-run, that would leave him open for the heavenly tribulation.

That would block his ascension, even if he took years to achieve that.

“You are insane. You called the Heavenly Tribulation to us!” Meng Dai snarled, eyeing the sky above. “This, this is the one for ascension to the heavens!” He dodged to the side, his cheek guard torn free by the swift thrust that Wu Ying had utilized when he was distracted.

“Yes.”

“You cannot believe you would survive it!” For once, the self-assured king looked worried. Even if the tribulation was not his own, he knew enough to understand that his actions had challenged the heavens. A few bolts thrown his way might not kill him, but it could severely damage him and cripple his own chances of ascending.

“I can believe that you would have trouble surviving too,” Wu Ying said, slipping back as he felt the pulse of energy forming. The pendant on the king’s breastplate burned hard for a moment, stored heated earth - glass - chi exploding forth in an impressive lance that cooled and dropped afterwards, putting those beneath in danger. “Or at least, be prey for my people.”

“You fool!” Momentum returned, the domineering king turned his dao on Wu Ying again. The fighting style was one that Wu Ying recognised - in origin, if not exact form. It was an advantage that Wu Ying ruthlessly utilized, allowing him to break apart the slashing form before him.

At the same time, the broken glass spear was shattered, again and again by a twisting wind. Fighting against one another, the glass formed from the enchantment was pulled apart; leaving only shards behind. Then, a flicker of intent and form and Wu Ying pulled the glass upwards.

It enveloped them moments later, the dust storm of ground glass. It pierced Meng Dai’s armour, slipped through the crack and began to rub against skin, irritating the man. More dangerous was the glass that went for the mouth, the nose, the eyes. Those, Meng Dai destroyed with an expulsion of his chi; melting and breaking down the glass into its component particles for daring to irritate him.

The same explosion of dao and chi threw Wu Ying away once again, an expanding sphere of flame that licked at the air and exerted its own force on his winds. This time though, he skidded to a stop a half-dozen feet away.

“You’d sacrifice your own ascension for them?” Meng Dai snarled, disbelievingly.

“Yes.”

What more was there to say? To save his friends, his family, his lover, his sect and nation, he would sacrifice his life even.

After all, a cultivator without the resolve to do even this much was not worth his name.