The morning after Shen Yu returned to Fa Ram
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It's raining.
“Victory!” somebody yelled.
He can’t feel anything.
“Victory! Victory!” the men around Shen Yu cheer.
He can hear their happiness.
“Shen Yu! Shen Yu led us to victory!” somebody cried, raising his blade high.
The words are true. They’ve won. He's won, again.
But all he can see is the one person who mattered to him, laying dead in the dirt, the price paid for another one of Shen Yu’s victories.
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Shen Yu woke from the familiar nightmare with a grimace. It had been his first time actually sleeping, rather than entering a state of meditation, in quite a long time... but he was truly exhausted. This temporary weakness was allowable considering the previous day’s events. It wouldn’t do to indulge too often, but he felt quite refreshed, even if he was objectively still in a sorry state. All that mattered was that he was in a warm home and Jin was alive. He cast the memories aside.
Still, he looked up, just in case.
The sky was still dark, the room lit only by the dull glow of the fire and the light emanating from the coloured glass balls on the walls of the house. It lent a pleasing, warm effect to the affair.
It reminded him quite a bit of Minyan’s cabin in her first skyship, the Breeze Dancer. So long ago they too had all been sprawled out together, fresh from their own victory against a Demonic Sect.
...perhaps that was why he had asked Minyan for help. He normally wouldn’t have, but last night the camaraderie had truly infected him.
His eyes locked onto Jin. He was sleeping propped up on a pillow, sitting and only slightly reclined. His was a pose of a warrior not quite ready to truly rest; should there be any commotion, he would be the first up to deal with it, as a true man should. Despite it all... his face was at peace, his brow was unfurrowed.
And why should his brow be furrowed? He was victorious.
Shen Yu let out a breath and smiled, warmth filling his stomach.
Shen Yu’s cultivation had been set back a full realm, with only the dregs of his previous heights remaining. His body and soul were riddled with holes. He had cracks throughout the rest of his cultivation, some of the damage almost reaching to the foundation.
Centuries of work was gone. And yet there was no despair in the loss. His grandson slept, victorious. Alive.
It was the closest that Shen Yu had been to death in centuries. It was the most damage he had probably taken in his life—yet he lived, triumphant and victorious.
Better still, it was a shared victory. Too many times had the Unconquered Blade been the last man standing on a field of fallen comrades. The sole survivor, the only one strong enough.
Something precious to him, something dear to him that he considered fragile, had been directly attacked. But when the desperate hour came, so too had Jin risen to the challenge. He had met it head on, took all it had to strike him with, and then defeated it utterly.
Indeed, what could a man be other than pleased after hearing that his grandson fought a running battle against three Earth Realm Cultivators at once and then another construct peaking at the Sky Realm? His grandson, who was merely in his twenties?
How magnificent.
They had not emerged completely unscathed. He would mourn Nezan as a martyr, if the fox’s core was completely unsalvageable—but he could not stop the feeling of relief that was in his heart.
Shen Yu let himself smile as he ran though Jin’s recounting once more. The boy had been sharp, decisive; he had acted well with what little information he had. He would have made a magnificent leader of armies. Shen Yu had felt his pride swell as he described each blow that he had suffered, and with each one he had dealt in turn.
Electrocuted by a man using his vital Qi.
Poisoned by a powerful demonic cultivator.
Fighting against three at the same time, and standing victorious.
What warmed him most was the knowledge that Jin had done it largely upon the diligently-practised basics Shen Yu had taught him. His years running the boy ragged with lessons worked.
It had taken Shen Yu two hundred years, studying thousands of styles and distilling them into their purest essence, to form his Immortal Foundation Arts. It was the closest thing to perfection he had ever made. It was to be his gift to the first he found worthy of being his disciple... or his children.
Bu had learned it first. Many an hour he had spent with his son, teaching him. They were some of his fondest memories. And yet, by the end, no trace of the style had remained, lost and tossed aside.
Jin held to it still. The knowledge was bittersweet, as it always was.
A small tinge of sadness reached Shen Yu’s heart that his grandson's mind was not truly on the path of traditional cultivation, for the Unconquered Blade could see the unpolished greatness... but Jin had made his choice.
A different path, his own. He had sworn he would defend this place against every threat, to create a heaven upon this earth.
He made good on that oath. And while his grandson had shouldered the heaviest burden, each and every person here had helped to lift the titanic boulder.
His eyes shifted from his grandson’s face to the side. Little Mei was using her husband’s thigh as a pillow, their son Zhuye tucked into her breast. Her breathing was slightly uneven due to the internal damage she had suffered from the poison cultivator, rasping along. Her contribution was easy to overlook—yet she had been vital for their victory, staving off injury and death and dueling the poison cultivator. Poison cultivators fighting inside another’s body was like a mortal’s knife fight in an alleyway—dirty, brutal, and savage, where the smallest margins meant death.
Cai Xiulan was on Jin’s left side, similarly sleeping partially upright. One of her swords rested against her shoulder, her robe falling open slightly, exposing a raw, angry looking crack in the middle of her chest. The edges were charred and flaking, as if the golden seam had heated up so much it had begun to cook her. Her hand poked out of the bottom of the blanket, her hand resting in Jin’s upturned palm.
The woman had transcended her limits somehow, according to her story, with the aid of mortals, to punch up into the Earth Realm. The feat had obviously taxed her—but that was the sort of thing that had one’s name resounding through the world. A talent that nearly equaled Bi De, in his own opinion.
He was still a little unsure of her relationship with Jin and Meiling—but there was something deep there. Whatever it was... it was good.
Movement caught his eye, and he finally stopped staring at his grandson. His other disciple, Bi De, was stirring. The sun was still hidden, but the rooster knew his calling. He gently extracted himself from Ri Zu and Yushang, and with a small pop he was in his natural form.
“I see you have been busy, Disciple,” he called when he arrived, casting his gaze at the formerly hidden base.
“Lu Ri greets Master Shen,” the man intoned, bowing politely outside the captured base. Not a hair was out of place, not a drop of blood stained him—despite the several dozen corpses that were lined up and ready for cremation. “Forgive this Lu Ri for the mess; he just finished mopping up the stragglers and was going to commence the funerary rites for unwilling enemy combatants.”
Shen Yu smiled at his voice and actions. Truly, Lu Ri was upon the path of the Founders.
“I bring you resupply. My grandson and Pi Pa assembled the victuals.”
The man perked up at that statement, a small smile on his face.
“You honour me, Master Shen— This one accepts and appreciates your goodwill.” Lu Ri bowed again.
“Nonsense. A reward and an apology must both be delivered in person.”
The man rose and blinked as the words reached him. “Apology? he asked, sounding confused.
Shen Yu clasped his fist in his hand and bowed. “This Shen Yu must make amends. He briefly questioned your honour, and the honour of the Cloudy Sword Sect, when he found you absent from the defense while you were striking at the core of the enemy base. This Shen Yu offers his apologies to Senior Disciple Lu Ri of the Cloudy Sword Sect, and asks for his forgiveness.”
Lu Ri’s eyes genuinely widened and he seemed at a loss for words. The man opened and closed his mouth several times, before he cleared his throat and returned the gesture of respect. “Lu Ri accepts Shen Yu’s apology. Past actions of the Cloudy Sword Sect destroyed a lifetime’s worth of trust, and it is only natural that it will take time to rebuild. This Lu Ri will endeavor to once more make the Cloudy Sword Sect’s honour unquestionable.”
Even in accepting an apology, Lu Ri was above others.
“Shen Yu thanks Lu Ri for his magnanimity,” Shen Yu said, rising and laying eyes upon the man again. “But I will insist upon setting this matter to rights properly. I owe you a boon of your choosing—we shall discuss it further when Brother Ge arrives.”
Lu Ri inclined his head.
Then, Shen Yu looked around as they both began to walk into the base. “You said there was another here, a Yuanlin?”
Had she been here, he would have told her about Nezan’s state. She deserved to know that much.
“Yes, Master Shen. I told her to go back and check on First Den while we wait, to make sure things are still fine. She was instrumental in our speedy advance and finding this base in the first place.”
They lapsed into silence as they began to tour the facility, fully intact in a testament to Lu Ri’s talents and intelligence. He had already captured everything he could in a recording crystal, but had declined to touch the formation should he accidentally set off some kind of warning.
If they could analyze it completely, they could craft their own artifacts and formations to seek out the formation’s unique Qi signature—allowing them to find these anywhere in the world they might try to hide—and for that they needed an intact example.
“Excellent work, Disciple,” Shen Yu said. He had seen enough to give information to Ge when he arrived... but was in no state to start gutting the place himself. “Please, eat. You will be relieved soon.”
Lu Ri bowed and made the gesture of respect, then opened up one of the jars that had been sent along with the meal.
Lu Ri’s eyes widened and a faint smile crept onto his face.
“Ah, Miss Pi Pa has outdone herself,” Lu Ri murmured as he ate the sweet.
Shen Yu chuckled and he ascended back into the sky.
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He returned about an hour before midday with his joints screaming at him. He briefly checked on the Shrouded Mountain Sect, who were all in varying states of shock, before dismissing them and going to observe what Jin was doing.
His grandson had out a piece of paper, a chart, and was getting people to use their techniques on the pile of corpses in thirty-second intervals.
Curious, he had asked—and Jin had told him about the charts, the intervals, and repeated testing, as well as the different “states” of Demonic Qi.
Jin’s information was not new... it was just not often so quantified. Most scrolls were rather vague about the phenomenon. Demonic Qi was not generally completely static. It could change “states” quite readily—doubly so in some techniques where the Demonic Qi actively fought back, so it was generally best to learn how to grind it down with one’s own Qi.
It was slow, but it worked, and could readily be done with meditation and while cultivating... and so most were simply left to figure out the “states” by themselves.
Even the Cloudy Sword Sect seemed conflicted on the changing nature of Demonic Qi. There was much discussion about it amongst the Founders of the Cloudy Sword on the phenomena, but they all called it something different, or had different terms for it—to say nothing of other sects.
His grandson’s understanding was perhaps not complete, but the theory was understandable in a way most weren't. The organized, repeatable tests swiftly collected data, and the writings produced from said data were easily understandable, enlightening all who would look at them.
Instead of one expert using their Qi and making proclamations about the nature of Demonic Qi, Jin had over sixteen types of Qi that he was experimenting with, from a variety of styles—while other disciples also gave their input and thoughts.
It was an interesting way to approach the problem, so different than what many did.
As it was, the work was not yet done, and Shen watched with pride as Jin frowned at the charts, clearly ruminating on the nature of it. He looked at the results of his tests—then at the Hongs’ siphoning formation, and his own formation for growing plants, and scratched his chin.
“Multi-stage destruction array?” he murmured to himself. “Use different types of Qi to destroy it faster and more efficiently? Or siphon the different states into separate places to destroy them?”
All Shen Yu could do was smile.
Then... to his surprise, the day got even better as Yun Ren ran back to the house, waving Nezan in the air.
The wily bastard had lived.
Shen Yu’s grin stretched across his face. How long had it been, since he had had a victory like this? Where the stakes were so high, so involved with his family, but the price so light?
He did not know. But this victory was not his alone. He got to truly revel in it.
He drank with the fox and made merry with the others, celebrating Nezan’s return—while he waited.
His comrades were surely just past the horizon. They would arrive... and then this victory would be truly complete.
Shen Yu was a cracked wreck compared to what he once was, and yet his smile took up his entire face.