6.14 - Heart of the Storm

For what seemed like weeks, He Yu and Chen Fei drew ever closer to the endless primordial storm. Angry clouds blackened the sky, eternally flashing with the light of heaven deep within. The cacophony of thunder rolling across the steppe never ceased. Wind and rain whipped at He Yu with each passing li as he and Chen Fei drew ever closer.

When they crossed the outer edge of the storm, the change was unmistakable. All the violence promised was paid in full, and with every passing moment. The wind rose to a roar, buffeting He Yu and Chen Fei so violently they were forced to the ground, unable to fly any longer. Technique and treasure be damned. Stinging rain, ice-cold and driven by the howling wind practically cut into He Yu’s exposed flesh. Only by the toughness granted from cycling the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering was he able to endure. All around, great forks of lightning reached down from the sky, striking at the earth. Each lightning strike contained He Yu’s Golden Core tribulation a hundred times over. With the relentless strikes came, too, the thunder. Now each boom and crack a physical blow.

They pushed forward, forging ahead through the storm only by each releasing their presence in full. Even then, even at the peak of Soul Refining and half a step into the realm above, it was hardly enough. The combined weight of their spirits was torn away, cast into the winds, and smothered by the storm that raged all around. Just as it had for a thousand years prior, and would for a thousand years more.

Still, they pressed on. He Yu followed the guidance given him by Liao Shan and sought the storm’s center. Using the Peerless Judgment as his only guide, he trudged forward with his back bent against the wind, and an arm raised to shield his face from the stinging rain.

“This is insane!” Chen Fei shouted from beside him, her voice caught by the wind and ripped away, such that He Yu had to strain to hear her. She’d since taken to keeping the Titan’s Panoply active as they walked, the massive suit of spiritual armor shielding her against the elements as best it could. Even then, water and wind alike seeped through the gaps. When she banished the face-plate so she could better speak, strands of wet hair clung to her face.

He Yu couldn’t argue with her there. “We need to keep pushing,” he shouted back, hoping his command of wind qi was enough that she could hear him. “The center is ahead, but I can’t say how far.”

The center was ahead. The Peerless Judgment was unambiguous in that respect. Every time He Yu activated his hybrid cultivation and perception technique, a blazing locus of qi erupted in his spiritual sight. Straight ahead, a mass of the most potent natural qi he’d ever felt churned in his spiritual sight. It had to be the source of this storm—it was all the same aspects he cultivated, only more. Heaven, water, and wind churned in a riot of power, reaching out to blanket the land for thousands of li in every direction.

A good thing, too, that he had a technique like the Peerless Judgment. When he wasn’t using it to guide them, the world was just black. No light pierced the swirling black clouds above, save that of the heavens themselves. The whole of this land underneath the storm was given over to perpetual night. As frequent and brilliant as the strikes of heaven’s lightning were, they were poor light to see by. For only the briefest of moments did they light the way, and what they revealed was little more than a wall of water formed by the relentless rain.

Constantly buffeted from all sides, they walked. This trek was not the same as the time He Yu climbed the mountain, choosing to approach his coming tribulation in humility. They walked because they were forced to. Forced by a power far stronger than either of them. Humility in this journey was no choice. It was a demand, and one to which they could only submit.

He Yu had long since lost track of time when his Wayborn Seed pulsed once, then again. It pulsed with each beat of thunder. Each gust of wind. Each sting of rain. They trudged forward, placing one foot before the other as the storm raged against them, as if to scream, “Stay back! You are unwelcome here.”

Focusing on his cultivation base and the faint but steady rhythm of his Wayborn Seed, He Yu reached for his Dao. The Dao of Heroism opened, and his Wayborn Seed reached for it. He took a step forward. Yes, this was his Way. His legend. He would forge ahead, regardless the cost, and reach the storm’s heart. He would prove himself to whatever he found there, and return in triumph. He would advance, and he would put an end to Jin Xifeng’s reign of the empire, and restore to the earth its rightful order under heaven.

He Yu cycled the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment. In his spirit’s sight, he stood atop the steps of the Heavenly Palace, framed its great doors opened behind him. With each step, he carried the beat of Leigong’s great drum. Above and around, Shenlong encircled the world. With another step, He Yu steeled his resolve. Already he walked this Way, as he had for nearly a full sixty-year cycle. He already had the approval, or at least the attention of gods. Of beings beyond that of even Jin Xifeng or Elder Cai. Already he’d endured one tribulation. This was but another, and one he would pass just as he had the last.

Around him, the world fell away, and he walked through the storm as if among the clouds themselves. The flash of heaven, the beat of the divine drum, the incomprehensibly massive form of the heavenly dragon, all of it served as his proof that he was worthy. That he was the inheritor of the Cloud Emperor’s Heavenly Palace. Not just by virtue of being its only practitioner, but by the assent of Elder Cai himself. With his last flash of power, Cai Weizhe poured himself into the jade slip, renewing it, and changing the techniques therein. Leaving the secrets of a thousand years’ worth of cultivation to He Yu in one last act of sacrifice by a man who had long ago sacrificed everything.

If He Yu wasn’t worthy, nobody was.

Silence.

He Yu stopped and beheld the sight before him.

A great mountain rose from the rolling expanse of the steppe. Alone and uncontested, it was as if the mountain held up the sky itself. Atop that mountain perched a bird. An eagle of proportions that threatened to shatter He Yu’s mind just trying to grip its enormity. Its wings spread and encompassed the whole of the sky and earth alike. Lightning crackled along the steel gray feathers, each one easily a thousand li in length. Its talons gripped into the mountain, digging into the living rock as if it were nothing more than paper. The storm eagle regarded him with intelligent eyes that flashed gold with the furious light of heaven. The immense bird opened its beak and cried a piercing scream as subharmonies of thunder crashed against He Yu.

Words arose in He Yu’s mind unbidden, and formed from the piercing thunder of the eagle’s shriek. “Regent of the Heavenly Palace. Why have you come to this place? Sky’s Throne is not for your kind.” As the spirit beast spoke, the world trembled. The Peerless Judgment did as it was meant—it showed He Yu the truth of things. This was no mere beast—nor just a simple spirit like the one they’d fought before crossing the Mountains of Heaven and arriving on the steppe.

This was a being primordial and ancient. A beast of the Ninth Realm—the True Heavenly Immortal stage. Practically a god in its own right. The sort of being the cultivator in Tan Zihao’s story sought out. The sort of legend He Yu’s Way was to forge. A guardian beast so powerful, it could grant him the assent of the storm itself.

He Yu cupped one fist and answered. “This one seeks advancement. I cultivate aspects of the storm. You call me Regent of the Heavenly Palace. I stand before you as the sole inheritor of the Cloud Emperor’s Heavenly Palace. An art ancient and primordial. One that demands a great price of those who cultivate it. I submit myself to whatever test you would subject me to, Monarch of Sky’s Throne.” Although the wind tore the words from his throat, He Yu was certain the storm eagle would hear him. How could a divine beast of this advancement not? The title, Monarch of Sky’s Throne, had arose unbidden, much like the storm eagle’s voice. He hoped referring to the divine beast as such wouldn’t offend.

“Do you know what you ask, child?”

Vaguely, He Yu was aware of Chen Fei next to him. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, draw strength from her support like he had so many times in the past. He didn’t. Partly out of fear that he would offend the storm eagle, and partly because this was something he must do himself. He was the one being tested. He was the one who must prove himself worthy.

“I do not,” he said. “But my ignorance means nothing. I have come to forge the next link in the chain that forms my Way. To take the next step along my path to the Eternal Dao. To the south and the east lies the once-Dragon Empire, now ruled by a woman called Jin Xifeng. I seek strength so that I may defeat her where so many others have failed. In that, I aim to forge my legend.”

The Monarch of Sky’s Throne leaned down, bringing its great flashing eye close to He Yu. Just the eye alone contained a fury greater than any storm He Yu had ever called, whether through the release of his own presence, or through the tribulation in the Shrouded Peaks. It filled his entire field of vision. The eye, close up, was larger than even the royal palace at Jade Mountain Citadel. Just standing this close caused him to tremble under the weight of his own insignificance.

“Regent of the Heavenly Palace,” the storm eagle began. “Already you have been tempered by heavenly tribulation. Already have you achieved what so few could. To have come so far, so young, is that not a feat worthy of legend? Is that not enough to satisfy your spirit?”

“I was told no single expert can defy Jin Xifeng alone. Already she stands atop the Divine Soul Apotheosis stage. Already she has one foot in the Ninth Realm. If I am to truly defeat her, I must reach the heights of cultivation. It is a journey I set myself upon nearly a full sixty-year cycle ago. That Jin Xifeng has broken free of her prison changes nothing, except that I must end her threat.”

“Why?”

He Yu stopped himself from blurting out his automatic answer. As the storm raged silently around him, held at bay by the very spirit that had given it life, He Yu considered. Why did he seek Jin Xifeng’s defeat? The idea was one he’d turned over enough times already. The easiest answer was vengeance. But he had spent so long pursuing what was right, hadn’t he? Vengeance may be valid, especially for another cultivator who practiced another way. It may even be right for him. Avenging the death of all his sect siblings, of his own martial grandfather? It was, in only a moment’s reflection, wholly in keeping with his way. Much in the same way killing King Hao had been, then again, with Cui Bao. But it wasn’t the answer to this question. Not the one He Yu needed.

Taking a breath and steeling his spirit, He Yu answered. “Because she holds the empire in her grip. Whatever Dao she practices, it is one that demands she possess all she beholds. That is no trait for a good ruler worthy of heaven’s mandate. Because the people of the empire deserve to live lives of plenty, ruled by the order set forth by heaven. Magistrates who govern justly, rather than corruptly. Bound and protected by laws that foster harmony, rather than division. An ordered society where the strong and the able protect the weak, rather than exploit them. Because somebody has to.”

Something in his spirit snapped. Or connected. He couldn't be sure. It was almost like donning a perfectly tailored robe. A shift and a piece put in place. The Dao of Heroism felt closer than ever. His Wayborn seed reached further toward it, wrapped itself around it more fully.

“I will put you to the test, Regent of the Heavenly Palace. Should you satisfy me, I will grant to you all that you seek and more. But know this; should you fail, I will destroy you.”

He Yu squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I accept.”