The Fourth Stage - Chapter 1 preview (Patreon)

What Came Before

Over a decade ago, Long Wu Ying was cast out of the Verdant Green Waters sect for defying the Elders and mounting a rescue of the captured orthodox sect members by the dark sect. The victims of the kidnapping included his martial sister, Fairy Yang and numerous prodigies of the orthodox sects. Though successful, many were slain and others injured during this process including his Master, the Sundering Blade, Elder Cheng Zhao Wan.

Banished till he regained both honour and prestige for the Verdant Green Waters, Wu Ying travelled through numerous lands of the Middle Kingdom. In so doing, he would meet strange and varied cultures, seeking knowledge of the seven winds of his Body Cultivation technique and deal with mortal, cultivator and dragon alike.

In time, stories grew of the Verdant Gatherer, a procurer of wild spiritual herbs and plants from the most dangerous of lands. A man known for the swiftness of his movement and the sharpness of his blade. Drawn by the winds to all points of the compass, Wu Ying would eventually travel down south, following the commands of the heavens themselves.

There, he met an old friend, Tou He. Together with Yang Mu, a mysterious Core Formation cultivator who’d joined him for adventure and excitement, the trio sought the source of a spreading taint amongst spirit and demonic beasts.

In the kingdom of Nanyue, the trio would join a remote expedition of the kingdom’s army to destroy the source of the corruption. Though they were unable to ascertain the culprits that created the demonic gate – embedded within the body of a living, Nascent Soul ape – they were still able to see to its closing by invoking the flame and lightning of the heavens itself.

Together, the trio return to the Verdant Green Waters sect bearing troubling hints of demonic plans and a callous heaven.

Over a decade has passed since his banishment and Long Wu Ying, the Verdant Gatherer, wielder of the blade Ren and Core Formation cultivator has come home.

Chapter 1

Beneath his feet, Wu Ying felt the press of solidified air. On his face, the cold spray of falling water as he leapt higher, stray droplets from the waterfall striking him. Behind him, following at a more sedate pace, Yang Mu followed, skimming across the water with her enchanted fans under each foot from the sheer joy of movement. Long hair trailed behind her, a rainbow as a backdrop when Wu Ying looked down.

Fast fading away, beneath their feet, the river that ran to the lowlands, the sailing skiff that had carried them this far, the harbour and city that supplied the Verdant Green Water sect. Fresh air, crisp and clean filled his lungs, the spray of water dampening his robes and imparting a slight chill to his body. As he pushed onwards, he felt the slight ache that carried through him, injuries that had yet to heal even after months of travel and recuperation.

Pain and regret flickered through him and were forcibly shunted aside. This was not the time to consider such matters, nor the potential issues it caused. Instead, he would enjoy the moment as he ascended the mountain with Yang Mu by his side. In her eyes, in her laughter, he saw the sect anew.

The waterfall fell away with another kick, the opening in the mountain from which the water issued forth lit by spirit lamps. As the pair ascended pass it, guards shifted, a pair of crossbows following their fast ascent before they too left that surprising entrance behind.

“You didn’t tell me the sect had a cavern complex!” Yang Mu sent her words direct to Wu Ying’s ears, twisting the strings of chi so that she could speak without shouting. A simple technique, barely worth even calling a technique for one with their ability.

“I didn’t know.” Wu Ying looked downwards, pushing his intent out to his friends. Impressions came back soon after, of a wide cavern filled with glowing lamps and cultivation caves hanging over the roaring water, where water and earth chi accumulated.

“I thought this was your sect!” Yang Mu said.

“It is. But I left as an Energy Storage cultivator. And I rarely spent much time here,” Wu Ying explained. After all, his work as a Wild Gatherer had seen him plying the roadways between sects and the deep wilds more than spending time within.

“I wonder what other surprises await us, then?” She sounded more amused than put out, excitement still tinging her voice.

A push on the dao and the surroundings, a firmed footing beneath his foot. He shoved upwards, launching himself higher as he climbed the sky. He could have floated upwards with just as much – perhaps even less – effort, but he was still reestablishing his own boundaries with the wind. Having become one with it months ago, having given up his mortal body, Wu Ying now sought to find the boundary both once more.

In addition, climbing this way let him see the sect and mountain in new ways.

There, outer sect cultivators climbing the trail that led to the sect high above. Paved stone staircases were worn away by the constant tromp of cultivators under the weight of the supplies required to feed the organization. Mortal servants carried out the same task as well, but the difference between them and the stronger, trained outer sect cultivators was…

Minimal.

To Wu Ying’s surprise, when he reflected to his own past, he found from his new viewpoint that the differences were marginal. So what if this cultivator moved a touch faster than that mortal, so what if he carried five rice bags instead of three?

If he so desired, Wu Ying could have lifted the skiff to the top of the mountain itself using the winds at his command.

As though called, heavenly wind twisted around his form, whispering its agreement. From the heavens, mortals were one and the same. An ant, a mortal, a cultivator, they were all equally as worthy of consideration and mercy. For all who wished, could ascend and join the Dao eventually.

So long as they bent.

So long as they bowed.

So long as they followed.

Or so the wind whispered.

“Ah Ying.(1)” Her voice, cutting through the thoughts that threatened to consume him. Heavenly wind dispersed as she spoke, angry whispers at the chaotic woman by his side, the distraction rising before he cut them off.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure we’re allowed to do this?” Concern in her voice, rising at the end.

“Of course…” He trailed off the automatic answer, as he noticed her growing concern. Frowning, he reached out his spiritual sense to the world around and recoiled almost immediately. If he had not been so distracted, he would have sensed it already.

Killing intent, directed towards them.

No, not towards them, but her.

As they reached an unseen barrier, it sharpened again and from above, the wind shrieked a warning. Moments before the attack arrived.

***

A glowing golden palm the size of a house descended from the heavens aimed at Yang Mu. Within the palm contained a deep dao, one encompassing the concepts of pressure and crushing within and all sharpened by a strong killing intent.

In retaliation, Wu Ying drew and cut in a single motion. Qie departed its sheath, the embedded dao of cutting, of sharpness within the sword itself augmenting his own understanding of the jian and his technique to send a blade strike.

The pair of attacks clashed a dozen feet above the pair. Immediately, the palm exploded as the containment around the energy was pierced, even as Wu Ying’s own attack continued upwards. At the same time, the released energy buffeted the pair and a trio of unlucky cultivators on the road. Two were thrown into the side of the mountain, but a third, truly unlucky cultivator was blasted off the side of the mountain. His scream resounded as he fell, hands thrashing as he sought escape from his fate.

“Ah Ying!” Yang Mu screamed, gesturing at the dropping mortal. “I’ll guard from above. Go!”

Trusting that she could take care of herself, Wu Ying sheathed his weapon and threw himself off the wind platform he had been standing upon. He called the winds to him, even as he fell, shooting downwards as he stretched his aura perception to the surroundings to locate the boy.

Above him, Wu Ying could sense Yang Mu landing on the trail, a hand holding one of her enchanted fans – the green one with white trim – defensively even as she called up the mountain. She exerted no chi in her announcement, trusting that their attacker could hear her.

There! His expanded spiritual sense – restricted till now to a short distance around him out of consideration for others and the rules of the sect – caught on the plummeting boy. He called the wind to him, slowing the boys fall and grunted in annoyance when he sensed the interference.

Child had a metal body and a burgeoning dao of density or heaviness. It made slowing him down via his wind dao difficult, though not impossible. He could have stopped him entirely, but the boy had picked up enough speed that doing so might injure him.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Seconds, before Wu Ying reached the boy. He tucked his body and turned around, flipping over to land beside the struggling child, as he flapped his hands and legs in a comical fashion, attempting to stop his fall. Eyes were wide and panicked, the knowledge that he was no longer falling yet to impinge upon his consciousness.

“Boy, stop it.” Wu Ying stood on a platform of solidified air, an eyebrow cocked. “You are fine.”

“I… this…” A breath caught, the boy forcing mastery over his emotions on himself. He exhaled, then pulled his arms closer, even as the wind playfully tossed him from side-to-side. Eyes locked on the immobile elder by his side, he put together his hands to offer a martial bow. “This lowly one greets his Honored Benefactor.”

“Don’t bother. I was just setting right what mistakes were made.” Looking upwards, Wu Ying gestured and a trio of rice bags floated up to them. “Now, brace yourself.”

He did not wait for the boy to acknowledge his words as he beckoned the air into motion once more. They shot upwards, the effort much simpler than holding the wind still. It was funny, how his battle and interaction with Sao Choi had expanded his own understanding of the element.

Wind was moving air, of course. But air was still wind. If one understood that simple concept, you could then wield air in the same method as wind.

With a little more difficulty, of course. The primal difference between wind and air still stayed – one wanted to move, the other did not care. As such, while a platform of wind to stand upon was viable if one solidified air, it was just as possible to make one of moving air – just within a very small range of motion.

Testing. So much testing of ones concepts and elemental understandings, of the bounds of reality and ones integration with it.

Not that any of that was recognized by the boy who was staring all around him, eyes locking on the silent figure ascending beside him, on the rice bags and the cultivators on the mountain pathway ascending the normal way.

“Who are you?” the question was voiced quietly, the boy uncertain if he should ask. Or even if he could, with the beating winds

Wu Ying tilted his head sideways, slowing their quick ascent as he sensed the scene above. Delicate word were being traded above and his prompt return might disrupt the equilibrium. Weaving his own words in a cone of wind so that the boy could hear him, Wu Ying answered.

“Long Wu Ying. Fellow cultivator of the sect. I have long been gone.”

“The Verdant Gatherer!” the words were a shout of surprise. The boy jerked into a deep bow, almost tilting forwards and pitching out of the tunnel of wind bearing him forth. He wobble crazily, before the wind adjusted to his movements.

“I am honoured, Elder! This one apologies for not recognizing the Elder and offering proper greetings.”

Wu Ying took the boy in properly now. Outer sect robes, worn just a little off. He forgot a fold there, didn’t tighten the straps on the inside fully there. After so many years wearing the more elaborate robes, such minor discrepancies stood out to him. Like a weed in a carefully cultivated row of plants. Skin, darker and weathered from years in the outdoors. His palm, turned upwards showed deep callouses from long hours working with his hands. Not a swordsman’s callouses either, but gripping a longer, broader haft.

“Your name?” Wu Ying said, noting they were nearly there.

“Den Kang Min, Honored Benefactor.”

“Good. Take care on your trip.” A slight hesitation, Wu Ying added. “And work on carrying more. Three is pitiful for one of your stature.”

Then with the slightest push of his will, Wu Ying sent the boy towards the mountain itself and the roadway to join the other climbers. He set the rice bags down beside the boy, stacking them on top of one another neatly before he rose another ten feet vertically.

The sight that greeted him made him want to sigh. On one side of a standoff, Yang Mu stood. Her fans were closed, but both were in her hands, a certain sign of wariness. Across from her was the Elder who had reacted so poorly to their ascent and a dozen inner sect cultivators who had spread out into a martial formation.

A flash of memory raced across Wu Ying’s form as he recognized the man, his tormentor in his first year. In his first year – when most other cultivators were busy training and studying, attempting to cleanse additional meridians – Wu Ying had been tasked with acquiring a bottle of peach wine. Now that he understood the norms of the sect further, he could understand the breadth of man’s malice.

Anger, resentment and then, amusement flickered through Wu Ying before he stilled the emotions, casting them to the winds.

The tense standoff had grown silent, neither party speaking until Wu Ying landed, the winds kicking up loose stones, leaves and dust alike. Soft-soled cloth shoes touched upon the ground, a small smile on his lips as he looked around him and bowed.

“Long Wu Ying, cultivator of the Verdant Green Waters greets Elder Pang.”

Surprise registered on Elder Pang’s face, smoothed out into stern impassivity a moment later. Wu Ying wondered about the surprise – the trio had sent word ahead of them via spirit messengers of their imminent arrival after all. Before he could ponder on the fact further, the man spoke.

“Guardian Pang.” Guardian Pang’s voice was chilly as he spoke, hands clasped behind his back as he stared imperiously at the pair. “Guardian Pang Jian Hong.”

“My apologies for the inadvertent insult. And congratulations, Guardian Pang, on your elevation to the new position.” Wu Ying bowed again and gestured to the side. “This is, as per our missive, Cultivator Yang Mu, daughter of the Twin Souls of the Joyous Platinum Inn.”

Yang Mu twitched, shooting a look that promised that he would pay for that later. He ignored it, of course. As much as she might desire to make a name for herself, in this place, at this time, she needed all the social standing she could acquire. Borrowing the strength of her Nascent Soul parents was necessary, especially before Elder – no, Guardian – Pang.

“If you keep in contact with the sect properly, you would know of such things,” Jian Hong said, coldly. “In addition, your companion should have informed you.”

“It must have slipped his mind,” Wu Ying said. “The exploration of the southern problems in Nanyue was quite strenuous.”

Wu Ying had to stop himself from apologizing again. It was an automatic thing, which he had to bite his inner tongue upon. Too long had he been beneath the other. But while he might still be junior to the man, he was a Core Formation cultivator now with a Wind Body. They might not be hierachial peers, but he was not so beneath the other to be forced to apologise.

Yang Mu, noticing the minute changes in expression on Wu Ying’s side chose to speak up. “Cultivator Yang greets Guardian Pang. Cultivator Long has spoken much of you.” Ignoring the suspicious look the other man shot her, she continued. “He often spoke of the Guardians of your illustrious sect with great fondness. May I ask, when were you elevated to this esteemed position?”

“Four years after Cultivator Long left the sect,” Jian Hong said. “Much has changed. Like our security procedures.”

“Oh?” Wu Ying said.

“Yes. Flying by those not of the sect is no longer permitted,” Jian Hong said. “As the Guardian of the Gate, it is my responsibility to ensure that no additional breaches of our security occur. And the addition of that ruling, along with additional security formations, is just one of the many things I have added.”

“I see.” Wu Ying inclined his head. Guardian of the Gate. That was Guardian Lu Xi Qi’s position. “We shall, of course, comply with the new rulings. Will you be escorting us the rest of the way to the sect, then?”

Jian Hong’s lips pursed, before he gestured. The other inner sect cultivators dispersed, the Energy Formation cultivators leaving up the mountain rapidly.

“No. I have many duties to attend to.” Then, recalling some of his manners, he inclined his head to Yang Mu. “Welcome to the sect, Cultivator Yang. I hope your stay is tolerable.”

Before Wu Ying could ask what that man meant, he triggered part of the formation that surrounded them, allowing it to pull him away by bending space.

“What a waste of energy…” Yang Mu muttered for Wu Ying’s ears only.

He could only agree, having sensed the extrusion of energy as the formation triggered. It seems much had changed in the time he was away. And his return was not to be a triumphant one.

Footnote:
1 - Reminder that ‘Ah’ is mostly a noise used when using a speaker’s personal name, rather than their generational and personal name at the same time. There is no significance to it beyond that, though the removal of a generational name indicates a closeness of relationships.