Soul of Blades - Chapter 13: The Dao (Patreon)

[Consume?]

"Yes," Alex said, his voice barely heard in the swirling wind.

It shot towards him, covering him in an instant, seeping into his clothes, his eyes, nose, and mouth.

The last thing Alex saw as the ashes engulfed him was the system panel twitching, buzzing, and glitching. It turned blood red to display an unreadable message.

[ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠d̶̺̆͜͠s̸̡̽̚͠'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆t̸͇̾̃̌̕i̶̧̹̽̈́̋̚ ̷̱̑̽̂̚s̷̯̲̅͐͜͝i̶̻̅̔͋ͅh̸̨̬͙̓t̶̢͎̖̦͊͂]

Oh shi- he panicked.

Then everything went black.

***

The quiet of the canyon was shattered as ten figures descended from the sky. Each bore an air of superiority, of celestial power, their eyes cold as they gazed at the lone figure before them.

An old man sat cross-legged at the mouth of the canyon, his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the impending danger. His body seemed frail, as if a gust of wind might sweep him away, but an aura of serenity radiated from him, an immovable mountain amidst the chaos of the world.

"Phoenix, we have come for your head," the leader of the ten immortals declared.

The old man, Phoenix, opened his eyes slowly. His gaze was deep, a gaze that had seen epochs pass, yet retained an impish spark. Their demand was clear—his head for stealing their sect's valuable resources; a batch of higher worlds. They believed it was their birth-right, as cultivators- as members of the empire, to rule over all who were different, who they deemed lesser. They called him a 'spirit beast', or in ages past, a 'Mythical Beast'. They believed him to be a beast, a resource, something to be consumed. At the thought, he held back a chuckle.

To him, such distinctions are without point. Aren't men- humans, beasts? The cultivators need for separation baffled him. They are all connected, some more than others, but all the same. Despite his aged form and vision, Phoenix felt almost as though he could see completely through them, The 'immortals' high above.

The old man, the 'beast', found humor in the paradox of the immortals before him - beings who had used Qi to cheat mortality and attain a state of unchanging permanence. In his timeless gaze, Phoenix saw an unnatural state of existence; a suspension of the natural law of change, the ebbs and flows of life. From his position on the precipice of time, Phoenix mused at the immortal's futile rebellion against the cycle of existence. Their forms restructured into something unyielding and everlasting, their bodies becoming the embodiment of Qi itself, unaffected by time or mortal constraints.

How foolish.

To be so unyielding, unchanging. As they shackle countless worlds through the unrivalled supremacy of their path. To face heavenly tribulations in pursuit of a path of stasis. They believe they have reached the peak of power, not knowing they stand at its precipice.

His mind wandered to a memory from epochs past, when the Empire was in its infancy, when Qi, mana, and the Dao were not yet shackled by imperial decree. Back then, the energies of the universe flowed free, the cultivators not blinded by fear, and the need for power and dominion. He remembered how the universe had thrummed in resonance with the freedom of its energies, the violently incompatible clashes of mana, magic, and Qi. Many sought to harness both, none succeeded, and all died with horrific immediacy, returning to samsara. They believed one energy to be superior to the other, the fools. Their rigid ways, and their infernal 'System', had stained history.

As Phoenix's gaze remained fixated on the immortal, his thoughts drifted towards the Martial Empire. The Empire, which once stood for the principles of cultivation and ascendance, had now become a monolith of control and manipulation. The control over Qi, mana, and magic, all tools once used to guide the cultivators towards understanding the Dao, had turned into leashes to keep the realms in check.

A sigh escaped his lips unbidden. The grand design of the cosmos had been distorted. The universal essence that breathed life into existence had been warped into a chain, denying beings their right to touch Qi, and most important of all; to touch the Dao. Yet in the midst of all this, Phoenix felt a shred of hope. After all, barring someone from the Dao was as impossible as stopping the river from reaching the sea. The Dao was omnipresent. It was only a matter of time before the true nature of existence asserted itself, as unyielding and everlasting as the Empire believed themselves to be.

And now they wanted his head, for freeing worlds under their heel. "The head of a phoenix is as hard to grasp as the wind," he retorted, his voice echoing across the canyon, "as fleeting as the life of a mortal."

Laughter filled the air, cruel and full of scorn. "Anything can be killed, old man. Even you."

The battle began.

The ten immortals lunged at Phoenix. They moved like dragons, swift and graceful, their celestial weapons reflecting the fading sunlight. Phoenix remained seated, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

A sword struck, and Phoenix moved. A flicker of motion, as if reality folded around him. A phantom amongst the onslaught.

The leader of the immortals snarled, slashing at him with his divine sword. Phoenix’s hand moved. Faster than thought, he reached out and caught the blade in his bare hand. His laughter rang out, shrill and unexpected. The sword shattered.

Shock rippled through the immortals. Before they could react, Phoenix moved. The ground beneath him erupted as he surged forward. The air twisted, reality warping as he launched himself at his attackers.

His movements were a melody of destruction. Each stroke, each step was timed to perfection. Each attack, a glimpse into his mastery. Every breath, a declaration of his defiance.

One after the other, he wounded several of the immortals. The canyon echoed with their screams of rage. Still, Phoenix moved, unstoppable, a force of nature.

The immortals fought back, their eyes burning with determination. This was their chance for retribution. They could not fail. Divine artifacts were wielded, formation arrays drawn, bloodline abilities unleashed. They fought like gods at war.

Phoenix stood in the eye of the storm, calm as still water. His body moved in ways that defied logic, a dance of devastation. He was a phoenix, a creature of rebirth, of life, of change.

A sword pierced his heart.

Time seemed to slow, Phoenix's laughter lingering in the air. He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest, then at the immortal wielding it, a grim smile etched on his face. "So, this is death," Phoenix murmured. His body crumpled to the ground, life fleeing from him.

The immortals watched in silence as Phoenix's body disintegrated, his form becoming ashes in the wind.

Then, the ashes began to move. A whirlwind formed, swirling with energy. The immortals stepped back, their expressions turning to shock. From the whirlwind emerged a figure, reborn, renewed.

Phoenix was back, younger, and his eyes burned with a fierce, undying light.

The immortals braced themselves, forming a defensive line as Phoenix, reborn and vibrant, stood before them, his form a beacon of life in the looming twilight. The tattoo on his left hand, formed from the swirling remnants of his own ashes, pulsed with a divine glow.

One of the immortals stepped forward, his arrogance barely concealed. He raised his celestial weapon high, slicing it through the air and into the heart of the canyon. A shattering crash boomed, and for miles the very earth split asunder. The immortal's power had left a deep scar across the landscape, a mark of violence that would forever tarnish the beauty of the canyon.

Yet, Phoenix remained unfazed.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, a weapon born of eternal existence. The Blade of Eternity. With it, he would sever the cycle of birth and death, ensuring the liberation of his opponents from their suffering. His eyes burned with the calm resolve of a warrior undeterred, the tranquillity of a storm's eye amidst the tumultuous winds of battle.

With a leap, Phoenix closed the distance between himself and the scarred canyon. He twisted his body mid-air, spinning like a cyclone as he unsheathed his sword. The Blade of Eternity ignited into radiant life, its fiery aura a symbol of its wielder's indomitable spirit.

Phoenix struck.

His sword cut through the canyon's scar, his swing so powerful it reverberated throughout the immortals' formation. It was a Karmic Rift, a swing so potent it disrupted the flow of time and space, opening temporary dimensional rifts that allowed Phoenix to strike his adversaries from multiple angles simultaneously.

An immortal fell, his divine essence snuffed out as the Blade of Eternity cleaved through him. Phoenix pressed his advantage, his movements a blinding whirlwind of relentless aggression. He was power incarnate, a force of life that would not be extinguished.

Again, Phoenix struck.

The immortal who had scarred the canyon moved to intercept, but Phoenix's Blade of Eternity was faster, burning through the air in a devastating arc. The Blade of Eternity tore through the immortal, its eternal essence severing the ties of his life force. The immortal crumbled, his form dissipating into a cascade of divine energy that the wind swept away.

One by one, Phoenix cut them down, his fiery wrath undiminished, his swordplay precise and ruthless. His strikes mirrored the swift and lethal precision of a hunting falcon, each one promising imminent destruction.

Another slash.

Phoenix's sword blazed with incandescent fury as it swept across the battlefield. His opponents recoiled from its radiant brilliance, their divine artifacts powerless against the might of the Phoenix. The karmic power of the Phoenix's sword eclipse their existence, stripping away the traces of their past actions and accelerating their journey towards liberation.

Yet another one fell.

The sword moved of its own volition, a conductor guiding the symphony of destruction. It ripped through the fabric of existence, severing opponents from their mortal coils. Their divine essences were released, extinguishing like candles in the winds of a storm.

Phoenix, at the heart of this storm, was unstoppable. His flame seared his opponents, purifying their karma and liberating them from the cycle of existence. His ethereal wings flapped, their flames carrying him above the canyon, his form outlined against the dying embers of the sunset.

His divine gaze surveyed the battlefield, the ashen remains of the fallen immortals scattered across the torn earth. His rebirth had given him a new perspective, a new understanding of his existence, and a newfound respect for the impermanence of life.

Victory was his.

***

A profound silence blanketed the mountaintop as Alex stood rooted in place, his heart pounding uncontrollably against the rhythm of the universe. He felt as if he had been swept up in the midst of a celestial whirlwind, gazing upon an eternal conflict that spanned the chasm of time and space.

[Dao detected - Dao assigned: The Dao of Regeneratio-]

"No." Alex murmured, his voice firm, rejecting the path that the system had prematurely assigned him. His mind was still occupied by the vision, filled with the echoes of a monumental battle. His spirit still resonated with the intensity of Phoenix's pursuit of true immortality, a concept so profound it transcended the confines of physical existence.

Cloaked figures resembling ancient China, celestial beings wielding immense power that could shake the earth to its core, had fallen one by one before Phoenix. They had sought immortality, a perpetuity of life, never-ending. But Phoenix had shown them another path. A path that suggested the pursuit of immortality wasn't in the preservation of the self, but in the liberation from it.

The Dao of Phoenix did not align with the pursuit of literal, eternal life. Instead, it resonated with the cessation of suffering, the liberation from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. His eyes, full of ancient wisdom and blazing courage, had faced his adversaries, bearing the essence of his enlightenment. He was the embodiment of the deathless state, a symbol of ultimate freedom from the mortal coil.

[Dao detected - Dao assigned: The Dao of the immo-]

"No," Alex declared again, his tone resolute. He was not seeking an endless life, he sought true immortality as the Phoenix did - a transcendence from suffering through enlightenment.

His eyes closed as he immersed himself in the echoing remnants of the vision, the Phoenix’s Blade of Eternity disrupting the fabric of reality. The rifts it created were not mere physical wounds, they were profound glimpses, disruptions in the cycle of existence. Each swing was a step toward liberation, a progression toward a state of deathlessness, a stride on the Noble Eightfold Path he had once been taught in his younger days.

His thoughts returned to his grandfather, to the old man's teachings on religion and the Eightfold Path. He had listened but never taken them seriously, always preferring to train or spend the little time he was allowed to roam free, with his friends. But now, alone, in this foreign world, he would give anything to sit through one of his grandfathers lectures. They had always seemed to mirror the Phoenix's path. A path that had been with him even before the system, before his own rebirth. The endless cycle of life and death, of suffering and rebirth, and the pursuit of liberation from this cycle, rang true in his heart now more than ever. He felt as though its lessons had been with him his whole existence.

A red, bold message manifested before his eyes.

[True Dao detected - Dao identified: The Dao of True Immortality - Early Stages Detected. Progress: 0.01%]

This time, there was no opportunity, no choice to reject. The acceptance was already woven into the very fabric of his being.

In the wake of the message, a strange, exhilarating sense of connection bloomed within him. A connection with something beyond himself, beyond the dungeon, and beyond the world of Pyra. A weight, like that of the universe itself, seeped into him, humbling yet empowering. He felt attuned to the true nature of existence, to the deathless state of Nirvana. A path towards enlightenment, towards true immortality, had opened before him.

And as he stood there, atop the mountain summit, beneath the endless expanse of the cosmos, Alex took his first step.