6.17 - Divine Body Attainment

Seated in his cycling position, He Yu reached out to the Monarch’s feather. The divine treasure pulsed with the power of the storm. Lightning crackled along its length while the delicate iron-gray vanes ruffled in the churning winds. Once again, the storm kicked up all around him, this time called by the feather rather than the Monarch himself.

Along with the feather, He Yu pulled one of his high-grade spirit stones from his storage treasure. He cradled the faintly glowing stone in his hands as the feather floated before him, buoyed by currents of air. He closed his eyes and breathed, drawing in a crackling surge of qi from the stone and feather alike. One unaspected, and the other a perfect match for his own cultivation base.

Qi surged through his meridians, and the storm around Sky’s Throne renewed and redoubled. As he had during the Monarch’s tempering, He Yu reached for his Dao. He connected to the Dao of Heroism. To his Wayborn Seed. With one hand firmly grasping each, he pulled them ever closer together. Weaving them with his qi. Braiding the roots and stem sprouting from his Wayborn Seed to that infinite shard of the Eternal Dao he’d aligned himself to.

As he worked on the connection, he cycled the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment. It both helped him maintain control of the complex patterns of qi looping through his meridians, and guided him in the ever increasingly complex workings of his spirit. He called forth the pillars of the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering. His spiritual awareness showed him each of the six pillars he’d already formed, along with the seventh he was now calling into being.

The storm fell away. Sky’s Throne fell away. Even, too, did the Monarch fall away. Once more, He Yu found himself atop the infinite stair, before the gates of the Heavenly Palace of the Cloud Emperor while the great dragon encircled the palace in the sky. The steady, thundering beat of that distant drum was the only sound.

Within his Golden Core, his Nascent Soul stirred. A brief pulse of qi expanded from the figure and pressed against the limits of He Yu’s Golden Core. Then it surged out. It shot along the length of his Dao connection, coursing through his Wayborn Seed and his Dao of Heroism. For one eternal moment, the entirety of existence held still. And then everything snapped.

An explosion of power greater than He Yu could begin to comprehend ripped him apart. A surge of qi obliterated everything that he was in a single instant. Time ceased to have any meaning. The expanse of the universe—a vastness beyond even He Yu’s conception of what could exist under heaven—quietly hummed within a single point of his awareness. At the center of his own existence, even though such a concept no longer held meaning, his Nascent Soul began its work.

Pulling from the very stuff of creation itself, He Yu pieced himself back together. He drew from an exploding star. A cloud of invisible gas and dust. Even from a pit of ultimate darkness, where time held no meaning. From the fabric of the celestial expanse itself, he gathered his materials. Guided by the insights of his cultivation technique, he crafted for himself a new form. A form of strength and power beyond which he ever could have hoped to achieve all those years ago when he left Shulin behind, and first set himself on the path of cultivation.

A seventh pillar rose to join the other six that he’d already forged. Standing amidst the stars, He Yu observed himself with the perception of the Peerless Judgment. He was more than he had been. Immortal now in so many ways that he’d never have fathomed even moments ago. He stood several finger widths taller than he had before, but he felt none of the elation that he might once have. His muscles contained power enough to shatter mountains with just a casual blow. Sickness, age, and death now held no meaning for him. He had become perfected.

Opening his eyes, he stood. The surrounding land had been blasted away. The telltale scars of heaven’s wrath blackened the land for as far as he could see. And to be certain, he could see for hundreds of li further than before. Only Sky’s Throne remained, protected as it was by the presence of a being still far beyond what He Yu had become.

He made a fist. Even that simple gesture warped the air, as the power of an eternal storm compressed into his closed hand. Lightning sparked across his fingers and knuckles, and even occasionally flickered up his arm toward his elbow. He couldn’t help but marvel at the strength he felt. The vitality. Like every stage before it, the Seventh Realm was true to its name. Divine Body Attainment.

There was one major difference from his previous advancements, though. The now-familiar feel of extruded impurities was absent. The black sludge he’d expected to ruin his clothes, coat his skin, and pool on the ground—absent. He looked up to the Monarch, expectant.

“What impurities might be left, Regent of the Heavenly Palace, after you reduce yourself to nothing, and then from nothing rebuild?” the great storm eagle asked.

“That…” He Yu let his voice trail off. Every advancement before had called forth a tremendous release of power, yes. He’d summoned storms on mountaintops. And inside Yongnian’s temple, now that he thought about it. But the visions had always been just that—visions. Yes, they’d been real. Yes, he’d earned the attention and approval of at least two great beings beyond even the Monarch. But they’d also been figurative in their reality. Impressions on his spirit and his understanding.

“Why do you think a cultivator must fully connect with their Dao to step into the Seventh Realm?” the Monarch asked. “Do you truly think a being once-mortal, even if mortal no longer, could survive remaking their very form, the very thing which anchors them to existence itself? No.”

This was a new threshold. The realms had always been divided into threes. Each stage contained early, middle, and late. Qi Gathering, Foundation, and Body Refining represented a similar triad. They represented a distinct tier of power and ability. Of what one could reasonably achieve. He Yu thought back to all the times he’d been told that anyone could reach Body Refining if they were given enough time, obtained enough resources, and had enough dedication.

Advancement to Golden Core was the first true step to power. Zhang Lifen had told him as much, and he’d seen that for himself when he faced his tribulation. That second tier of the immortal world—formed of Golden Core, Nascent Soul, and Soul Refining—was focused on refining one’s relationship with their Way, realizing and connecting and with the Eternal Dao. Again, building the foundation for what was yet to come. Now He Yu had crossed into that last tier. Divine Body Attainment, Divine Soul Apotheosis, and finally, Heavenly True Immortal. What heights of ability—what insights into the very nature of the infinite and eternal—lay before him, he couldn’t say.

But he was ready.

“Before you go,” the Monarch said, “there are things we must discuss. Truths you must know.”

He Yu frowned. “About the Seventh Realm and beyond?”

“No. About the foe you seek. The one you stand against. About Jin Xifeng, and the arts she possesses.”

*

In the center of the army camp, Sha Xiang stood atop a raised platform next to her martial father, Long Tingguang. The imperial army stretched out before them, and across the arid plain of the Western Passage sat the walls of Iron Gate City. The Li maintained their obstinance, even with an army of cultivators camped outside their city gates.

Sha Xiang opened up her spiritual sight. The formation barrier over the city gleamed with powerful flows of qi. Powerful enough to keep even Long Tingguang out, for now.

Soon, though, they’d run out of resources. Her army would sweep away the defenders, and she would claim her satisfaction from Zhang Lifen and Li Bao alike. Her marital father would deal with the Li patriarch, Li Renshu. According to the Ministry of Information reports, he was only Late Seventh Realm. An ant compared to Long Tingguang, who stood fully in the early Eighth Realm.

In fact, it was Long Tingguang that kept their prey holed up in the city. Li Renshu could sweep away the imperial army. Not even Sha Xiang could stand against him, as much as she hated to admit it. But if Li Renshu dared show himself, Long Tingguang would be ready, and the Li would fall as sure as the sun would rise.

He gave Sha Xiang tremendous face, allowing her to oversee this siege. Allowing her to take her satisfaction from those who’d wronged her. To take credit for crushing the Li for their defiance of Empress Jin’s rule. It was right that he did so, and her demon core preened at the thought of all the acclaim she would receive.

Long Tingguang lifted his chin and turned his attention to the northwest. The blank, vacant glaze over his eyes told Sha Xiang he was using his perception technique. She frowned. What could he possibly be searching for out that way? On the other side of the mountains was, well, nothing. Nothing but grass and barbarians.

“A storm approaches,” he said, bringing his awareness back from wherever he’d cast it.

“A storm?” As far as Sha Xiang was concerned, that could only mean one person. “I’ll crush him, too.”

“You will not. Not as you are now.”

“Father, I’m not weak like I was last time,” she protested.

“The bearer of Cai Weizhe’s arts has stepped into the Seventh Realm. He would sweep you away with hardly a thought. You must advance. I will construct a formation. It will protect the army from your breakthrough. If heaven favors you, we will have completed our work here by the time he arrives.”

The splinter of Jin Xifeng’s power that had become an inextricable part of her howled in delight. Sha Xiang couldn’t help but agree. Long Tingguang was generous indeed—he had given her so much already, and now he was giving her He Yu.

She would show the world who was the stronger. At long last, she would win.

*

Zhang Lifen sat with Li Bao in the finely kept gardens of the Li estates. They enjoyed tea together, chatting idly as if there weren’t an army just outside their gates.

As disturbing as Long Tingguang’s arrival was, it seemed he wouldn’t take an active hand in things. Similar to how he’d stayed out when Sha Xiang had fought all three of the former core disciples. Of course, after that display, it was easy to see why. Sha Xiang had somehow become strong enough that she could take Zhang Lifen, Ren Huang, and Yi Xiurong all at once. By herself.

It went without saying that she was more than a match for Zhang Lifen and Li Bao. For his part, Li Bao was convinced Long Tingguang was here to ensure Li Renshu didn’t interfere. Zhang Lifen was inclined to agree, given appearances.

Well, if they were going to die, they may as well enjoy themselves first, she supposed.

A burst of earth and fire qi, laced with an ever-stronger coppery touch of blood and cloying black shadow, erupted into a column that pierced the sky. It slammed into the barrier formation around Iron Gate City. For a moment, Zhang Lifen thought the barrier might fall. A responding pulse of lunar and ice qi—from within Li Renshu’s cultivation chamber—put that fear to rest.

Zhang Lifen set down her teacup and folded her hands in her lap. “Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”

Li Bao’s features told her all she needed to know. “It seems that Baroness Sha has advanced to Divine Body Attainment.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t call her that,” Zhang Lifen said airily.

“It is her title, after all, Lady Zhang. Like it or not, she has earned her station. Demon core or no, reaching the advancement she had is no mean feat.”

“Always the proper one. I suppose your son had to get it from somewhere.”

Li Bao’s expression darkened, but the mask returned an instant later. Zhang Lifen mentally kicked herself. After her weeks as General Bao’s houseguest, she had long since learned Li Heng was still a sore spot for the marquis. Although she wasn’t certain on the details, she’d since gathered the two had a rather complicated relationship. Especially after he’d fled the city with He Yu against his father’s orders. And with Li Renshu’s blessings.

No, that was a familial spat she’d no interest in becoming a part of.

She changed the subject instead. “What of the messenger to Tan Zihao?”

“Unless something befell her in the desert, she should arrive at Jade Mountain Citadel any day now.”

Well. That was comforting. There were a great many things that could befall one when crossing the White Desert. Li Renshu had assured them that his messenger’s arts were suited to such a journey, and that she’d crossed the desert many times past. Zhang Lifen had little choice but to trust his judgment.

Now all they could do was wait. Wait on Tan Zihao’s decision, and whether he would send aid or leave them to their fate.