Chapter 762 (Patreon)

We back at it again! New Year, new chapter, wooo! Now hopefully, this  will be a  nonstop ride right up to the end, and then I can finally nap  once more. Who knows? Not me, but thanks for your continued support and I  hope you all enjoy the chapter.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1up5WNSotBvTo7Jg36IxaISUu438RMxEqPfSBkekGawU/edit?usp=sharing

Hesitant. Careless. Arrogant.

Words which described Hideo all too well, and he yearned to be rid of them, but making changes to one’s temperament was easier said than done. Following his humiliating defeat at the hands of Tong Da Fung at the Central Citadel, Hideo immediately withdrew from his military duties and monastic studies to look inward towards his own Path. Neither Monk Eyebrows nor Wisdom Vyakhya voiced any dissatisfaction with Hideo’s decision to distance himself from the Brotherhood’s teachings, and he keenly felt their unspoken disappointment regarding his many recent failures. Even after all the time they spent offering him Healing, guidance, and encouragement, he still had almost nothing to show for it, merely a few minor strides along the Martial Path that paled in comparison to the progress of his peers and rivals.

Even though the Brotherhood possessed a great deal of wisdom and insight regarding the Dao, Hideo needed time to process what he’d learned and experienced this last year so that he could better understand his personal perspective. Hence his decision to step away from lessons and combat for a period of personal introspection, one which opened up a wealth of unwelcome truths. Others thought him discouraged and disheartened enough to give up on the Dao and the cause, but sometimes, one had to take a step back in order to see the Path forward. This advice came from neither Monk Eyebrows nor the Wisdom, but from the Uniter who’d taken an interest in Hideo after Gen failed to adhere to the Razor’s edge and lost himself to madness during the assault on the traitor Abbot.

An interesting man, the Uniter, a mysterious entity who stood at the pinnacle of the Dao. Their meeting, if one could call it that, had taken place with the comfort of Hideo’s Natal Palace, and the Uniter’s ability to forcefully appear in what should have been an inviolable space spoke volumes to his strength and courage. There within the heart of his Natal Palace, Hideo could have crushed the well-groomed grandfather with little more than a thought, yet still the Uniter had the courage to come meet him without warning. “Wutai Mountain,” the scholarly elder declared, a statement to announce his presence and shake Hideo out of his meditative trance, for never in his wildest imagination did he think a stranger could appear in his Natal Palace to wander about and take in the sights. “A beautiful sight, but how... uninspired”

So surprised to hear someone inside his Natal Palace, Hideo almost attacked the elder on reflex, but a pointed look from the perfectly groomed grandfather was all it took to still his hand, a gaze filled with warning and reassurance both. On the surface, there was nothing particularly intimidating about the genteel and dignified old man, a slim, bony fellow who moved with the care and deliberation of a man afflicted with arthritis. Despite his aged appearance and feeble movements however, Hideo recognized this man for what he truly was. This was a Dragon who stood above all others, one who demanded reverence and respect through his mere existence alone.

It wasn’t anything he said or did, nor was it some gut feeling or hidden intuition warning Hideo to be wary. No, the evidence was right here before his very eyes, and not solely due to their location. The telltale clues lay in the man’s golden robes bearing flowing embroidery depicting all manner of atrocities, and the grotesque jewellery he wore to accentuate it. A corpse themed ring sat upon every finger and multiple bone bangles encircled his wrists, like the cold, grasping fingers of a grudge-bearing corpse refusing to let go even in death. Everything the elder wore radiated unholy menace and macabre power, even here at the seat of Hideo’s power where he should rightly reign supreme. A single look was all it took for him to know he was sorely outmatched, and he adjusted his attitude accordingly. “Greetings, honoured Elder,” he began, offering a clasped fist rather than a bow because he didn’t dare take his eyes off the stranger, nor did he have the courage to get up off the stone dais he sat on to meditate, one modelled after the same dais that sat upon the mountain in reality. “How might this one be of service?”

“Hmm.” Uttering an approving grunt, the elder studied Hideo while nodding ever so slightly. “Good, good. Perceptive and adaptable, though perhaps too much considering... all this.” Waving a hand about him to gesture at the surroundings, the elder shook his head and sighed. “Your Grand Uncle warned you against following in his footsteps, but you did not take his warnings to heart and continued to chase after the image of his back. Better if you had walked your own path and showed the world the Heroic Heavenly Guardian your father named you for, rather than the shadow of a shadow you’ve become.”

The shadow of the Obsidian Shadow, Mitsue Juichi. How... apt. An ugly truth, but one Hideo could no longer afford to ignore, for it was clear this was the reason his progress along the Martial Path had slowed in recent times, because he had long since abandoned his own Path to follow in the footsteps of his Grand Uncle Juichi. That and his inability to rein in his earthly desires, among other things, but his lack of Martial Progress lay firmly in his refusal to return to his roots. The elder made that clear with little more than a gesture, for Wutai Mountain held great significance for Uncle Juichi, being the place where he found Insight for the Mountain Collapsing Stomp, yet to Hideo, it was merely a popular attraction located in his family’s backyard. How many times did he make the trip to this very peak in real life, hoping to chance upon the same Insight as his hero and idol? How many times did he read the stories of the Obsidian Shadow’s rise to prominence, scouring each page for clues on how to progress? How many times did he sit upon this stone dais and look out at the surroundings, trying to see what Grand Uncle Juichi saw when sitting in this same spot?

Once would have been too many, for each must forge their own path, a lesson every Martial Warrior was told from the very first step, but one Hideo was only learning just now.

“Good, good.” Stroking his long, luxurious snowy beard, the elder’s gaze softened as he took in Hideo’s reaction. “The Mitsue Hideo of yesteryear would not have welcomed this Sovereign’s advice, but your recent trials and tribulations have dulled the edge of your undeserving hubris. Pride is the domain of the worthy, and you are far from it as you stand.”

Though Hideo always thought Gen a fool for calling himself a Sovereign, it seemed so fitting a sobriquet for this formidable elder, one whose name was now evident. “This one greets the Uniter, and begs leniency for any offence given in ignorance.”

The Uniter waved a hand in dismissal, neither accepting nor rejecting Hideo’s apology. “You have seen the limits of your chosen path and experienced the flaws firsthand. Will you persist in your efforts to become the second coming of Mitsue Juichi in spite of the shortcomings you’ve uncovered, or will you seek out your own Path no matter the cost, even if it means forsaking all your efforts thus far?”

Two choices lay before Hideo, a fork in the road for him to choose, but he knew neither path would be as simple as it seemed. Success was all but guaranteed regardless of his decision, for he was a dragon among men destined for greatness, but while any Peak Expert was considered a lofty, peerless existence by the masses, he knew better than most how vast the disparity could be between the average Peak Expert and a Living Legend like the Obsidian Shadow.

Or Mitsue Hiroshi, the hidden dragon of the Mitsue family who died in obscurity before ever soaring high up into the Heavens where he belonged.

The disservice to his father was what pushed Hideo to his decision, for Mitsue Juichi was not a man worth idolizing. A weak-willed and indulgent old man who doted upon his worthless sons and daughters while expecting his talented nephew to sacrifice glory and acclaim in order to shelter those leeches from the consequences of their own making. Uncle Watanabe claimed Juichi had treated Hiroshi like a son, but if that was true, then Hideo’s father would have been a worthless middle-aged fop trading on his “father’s” reputation instead of a formidable Peak Expert and Living Legend in the making. Then there was the fact that even though Juichi knew Hideo was walking a dead end path by following in his footsteps, the old man never truly raised an objection, because it appealed to his ego to raise a successor in his own image.

Is that how you see things, Mitsue Hideo? Cultivation is written Xiu Zhen (修真), which among other things means to pursue the truth. Altering your perspective to twist the truth to your liking is the same as lying to yourself, an escape for a man unwilling to bear the weight of his sins.

Quashing the doubting voice in his head warning him against taking the Wrong View, Hideo steeled his nerves and offered the Uniter a full bow this time, though he still refrained from stepping down off his stone dais. Why that was, he could not say, for a bow from an elevated position was only slightly better than spitting at the Uniter’s feet, but his instincts warned him against leaving the stone unoccupied. What’s more, the Uniter had come here in full regalia, offering guidance with one hand and threats with the other, so Hideo felt it only right to remain guarded against this powerful and mysterious patron of the Defiled. “I choose to seek out my own path, and beg elder for any guidance he might spare.” Hesitating for all of a moment, Hideo added, “However, this one feels unworthy of becoming elder’s Disciple, so would ask for a lowly place as your student instead.”

This wasn’t humility, but self-preservation, for it was clear the relationship between the Uniter and the Wisdom were strained, to say the least. Hideo himself had not noticed until after he stepped away, but the Wisdom had all but poached the most suitable talents away from the Uniter, and the latter was clearly looking to replace the now Demonified Gen. Hideo had no desire to place himself in between these two formidable groups, nor did he have any intentions of abandoning the Brotherhood’s camp in favour of the Uniter’s. All he wanted was to progress along his Path, and he felt that both sides could offer him the much needed guidance to do so.

“Hmph.” There was no anger in the old man’s huff, only contempt and indifference to Hideo’s equivocations. “Student or Disciple, what you call yourself matters not, for the ‘conflict’ you perceive between this Sovereign and Vyakhya is a but one-sided affair. Wise though he claims to be, the old eunuch has spent so long fixated on his goal that he has allowed his obsession to blind him to good sense. The conflict with the outer provinces is merely the beginning, yet he wrongly believes the war is all but won, and thus, in his arrogance, has succumbed to the height of foolishness by setting the table before securing the bird in hand.” A rather low-brow idiom from a man of his scholarly nature, but Hideo believed it was an intentional choice to further discredit the Wisdom’s actions, an understanding which did not escape the Uniter’s discerning gaze. “This Sovereign finds it refreshing to speak with an educated youth, especially after struggling to transform mud into gold for so long.”

“A noble endeavour,” Hideo replied, unable to keep the sneer off his face at being compared to lowly Gen, “But while a snake might one day transform into a dragon, it is too much for a lowly worm to dream of reaching such heights.”

The Uniter’s smile spoke volumes to his satisfaction at finding a kindred spirit, but it would be too crude of him to agree out loud. “The first lesson then,” he began, gesturing at the surroundings once more. “Gaze upon what you have wrought, and tell me what you see missing.”

Try as he might, Hideo saw nothing of note, for he’s spent many a day and week ensuring every last detail was correct, right down to the position of the tree branches and bird’s nests nestled within them. His Natal Palace was a perfect recreation of Wutai mountain, with not a single stone or weed out of place, so after much deliberation, Hideo turned back to the Uniter who’d stood patiently by for what might well have been several hours without uttering a peep. “This one is ignorant and unable to discover what Teacher find’s lacking.”

“Admission of ignorance is but the first step to seeking assistance,” the Uniter replied, sparing Hideo the shame of his failings. “The answer lies not in the mountain itself, but in how you have chosen to depict it.” Raising a hand to point at the sun shining down from overhead, the Uniter asked, “Since this Sovereign’s arrival, the sun has not moved even a single millimetre, nor have the clouds shifted in any way. The wind does not stir, the humidity remains constant, the mountain static and unchanging. This is not Wutai Mountain, but merely an image of it painted upon the canvas of your mind. An impressive feat considering the scale of detail, but lacking in depth and acuity, for an image is static and unchanging. A Natal Palace should instead be alive and dynamic, analogous to the reality it seeks to replicate.”

Hideo’s eyes widened as he took in the Uniter’s words, for they hinted at a purpose of the Natal Palace which he never even considered. “The Natal Palace seeks to replicate reality,” he repeated, following the thread laid out for him to pursue. “So upon successful completion, there should be no difference between the Natal Palace and reality itself... Natal Palace Manifestation?”

“That is one possibility, yes,” the Uniter replied, favouring Hideo with an approving nod. “To manifest one’s Natal Palace within reality is to exert absolute authority within one’s Domain rather than work within the limits Heaven enforces upon us, but that is not the sole reason for replicating reality.”

The Uniter said no more, leaving Hideo to form his own conclusions, and the implications were staggering to say the least. “Does this almost make it easier to Shatter the Void?” he tentatively asked, but rather than confirm or deny it, the Uniter merely pretended as if he hadn’t heard. Likely because Hideo was looking too far into the future when instead he should be looking into the past in order to correct the errors of his ways, so he swallowed his curiosity and retained this information for later perusal. Replicate reality within the Natal Palace, a simple enough concept that hid a myriad of complications. The sun was the easiest, for the path it took through the skies was constant and unchanging, rising from the east and setting in the west in a pattern measured in months, years, or possibly even decades and centuries. Hideo lacked the ability to uncover the pattern himself, but after thinking it through, he discovered it wasn’t necessary to specify every last detail, for his goal was simply to replicate reality within his Natal Palace, not create a brand new one similar to reality in every way, shape, and form. In simpler terms, his Natal Palace was meant to be a reflection of reality, so all he needed to do was imitate the laws of Heaven he had yet to understand.

And so, with little more than a thought, the sun shifted in the sky and the clouds came alive as the Wutai mountain within Hideo’s Natal Palace changed to reflect reality. No longer was it a static image, but a living recreation, albeit an imperfect one for now, but perfection could hardly be reached in a single bound.

“No.” The word echoed across the entire mountain and shook Hideo to his very core. Not because the volume was staggering, but rather because the word was uttered with such vehement objection that he knew he’d erred gravely in his efforts. That was all it took for him to abandon his efforts and revert back to the still image of Wutai Mountain, a change so instant and complete he only noticed it after the fact. Heaving a sigh filled with regret, the Uniter’s melancholic and piteous gaze struck Hideo like a meteor from on high, smashing him off his lofty peak on high and into the figurative depths of the earth below. “Such wasted talent and comprehension,” the Uniter began, and Hideo puffed up at the praise. “Truly a crime against Heaven to misguide you so, and a measure of your ability to have come so far in spite of it.”

Pleased as a peacock, Hideo offered the Uniter another bow. “Student begs Teacher for his guidance.”

“Even a tower a hundred yards tall still has its foundations on the ground, so to build upon weak foundations is to toil to no avail. Effort alone can bring you to the Martial Peak, but why limit yourself so from the very first step?” Truly a man of grand ambitions, the Uniter, and clearly he had high expectations of Hideo as well. Idly motioning at the mountain around them, the Uniter continued, “Think. Why did this Sovereign call your Natal Palace uninspired?”

The answer came readily to Hideo, for he’d already touched upon the crux of the issue and merely lacked the resolve needed to make the necessary corrections. “Because this one based his Natal Palace on Wutai Mountain out of a desire to emulate Mitsue Juichi, rather than out of any actual personal connection.” Or as the Brotherhood would say, the right action with the wrong intent, which could prove to be just as disastrous as the wrong action.

“Indeed.” Raising a stately white eyebrow while stroking his beard, the Uniter asked, “Need this Sovereign continue any further? The greatest barrier to Divinity lies not in the final hurdle which only a select few ever reach, but rather the first step which most fail to ever truly comprehend. The Core is the foundation upon which one’s Path is built, and yours is flawed beyond repair, but the solution is simple. The Energy of the Heavens is the power of Creation and Destruction both, so just as the forest fire clears away old growth to make way for the new, your best course of action is to do away with your crumbling foundations and build it up anew from the very first step.” The implications of which left Hideo reeling in fear and apprehension, but the Uniter merely raised a single eyebrow in amused question. “Life and death are but two points upon a circle, and the cyclical nature of reincarnation means you will experience them both time and time again. This Sovereign would not suggest so drastic a measure if he was not confident of success. If you lack courage, then so be it, but think of how you can benefit from a renewal such as this, a chance to return to the first step along the Dao for a new beginning with all the benefits of experience and hindsight.”

Immediately, Falling Rain’s descent to mortality and subsequent rise to Legate and possibly Peak Expert came to mind, a stunning reversal of fortune in Hideo’s eyes, but now he understood that the savage whelp had found fortune in disaster. No wonder his strength improved by leaps and bounds after his Core was shattered, because he used it as an opportunity to reform his foundations and soar unto new heights, a feat Hideo would now replicate and surpass.

It took a phenomenal effort of will to thrust his Spiritual Weapons into a forming Demon, so much so that it took him a half dozen tries before he succeeded. The agony which followed was excruciating and immeasurable, but mercifully short-lived as the Demonized Gen dropped him into a pit of black, bubbling sludge that was supposed to help him refine his body and recreate his Core. Up to this point was the easy part, because even though the sludge would help him succeed at Core Creation once more, the Uniter stressed the importance of ensuring the Core was completely and utterly without flaw. Only then would Hideo be able to confine the mysteries of Heavens within his Core and recreate them in his Natal Palace, whereas others with lesser Cores would find the higher truths of the world denied them.

A task easier said than done. Just as his physical body sat immersed within the darkness of the sludge, Hideo’s mind was ensconced within the darkness of the Void. Advice and assistance was all the Uniter could offer, for this next step, nay, this new first step was Hideo’s to take. Only he could determine the correct path forward, for no one else was privy to his own personal perspective, and he had quickly concluded that his temperament required adjusting. Hesitant. Inattentive. Arrogant. The three words hung in the air before him, written in his own hand without need for ink or brush, and he studied them to find the truth hidden behind each brush stroke and uncover the true Mitsue Hideo hiding within.

These were not his only failings, but they were the ones he could not afford to keep, for they were the fundamental flaws holding him back during his pursuit of the Dao. Thus, just as he found success in failure, he would turn his weaknesses into strengths through sheer determination alone. No longer would he permit himself to be hesitant, careless, or arrogant, and instead, he would be confident, diligent, and humble. Leaving the initial characters where they were, Hideo conjured up three new scrolls similar to the ones he would have used in real life, as well as his favourite sandalwood brush. Laying the scrolls out over-top the characters suspended in the Void, Hideo took a deep breath and pushed himself to the razor’s edge between struggle and surrender, neither giving into his emotions nor cordoning them off to be ignored. This was True Balance, a state of mind which stood in defiance of Heaven and felt so close at hand while remaining utterly out of Hideo’s reach.

And yet, in spite of his lacking ability, he strove to find True Balance all the same, without hesitation, without carelessness, and without arrogance.

When the time felt right, he touched brush to paper with a bold and audacious hand. Confidence. Diligence. Humility. Three new scrolls to replace the old and serve as a reminder to guard against his failings. Stepping back to study the brushwork, he found them lacking in far too many ways to describe, so he destroyed them and started anew. Again and again, he wrote and destroyed, using his failures to fuel his inevitable success, for it was only a matter of time for Hideo.

That was who he was now. Hideo. No family name, title, rank, or affiliation, just Hideo. Simple and boundless, the Heroic Heavenly Guardian who would bring forth a new era of the Empire. For too long, the Emperor had left his fiefdom to rot, and Hideo and the Heavens would no longer allow it, for the time of reckoning had come.

How many times he drew and redrew those same characters, he could not say, but if it did not number in the hundreds of thousands, then surely it was close. When he was finally satisfied with his work, he stepped back to take it all in and found the results well worth the effort. His flaws were still present, both literally and figuratively when speaking of the initial characters, but he would remain vigilant against them by remaining confident, diligent, and humble at all times. These scrolls and the flaws hidden behind them would forever remain suspended in memory and Natal Palace both, and he would never allow himself to forget it, from now until the day he died. This was the foundation upon which he would build, these first three stones which were part of a complex construction that would hold millions more, but none more important than these. Such was the benefit of starting anew, for though he lacked Core and Natal Palace both, he was able to lay out the groundwork beforehand instead of haphazardly going with the flow and simply accepting whatever flaws developed in the process, flaws which would limit how far he could progress.

These three scrolls were the first steps, but far from the only ones as Hideo’s body reaped the benefits of being immersed within the black sludge for so long. Here in the darkness of the Void, he had no inkling of how his physique had improved, but the Uniter assured him the gains would not be small. The black sludge was the culmination of centuries of research devoted to the improvement of the human condition, and the contents of Hideo’s refining bath was superior to even what Goujian had enjoyed. Having seen firsthand how the process transformed the lithe and sinewy Confessor into a hulking Warrior who towered over friend and foe alike, Hideo was confident his results would be far from disappointing. What’s more, the benefits attained were not limited to his body alone, for the black sludge would also improve the quality of his mind and soul at the same time. How, Hideo wasn’t entirely certain, for the Uniter’s detailed charts and explanations regarding meridians, acupoints, and Chakras left him utterly flummoxed from start to finish. Still, he gleaned enough to understand that the general goal was to improve the metaphysical pathways through which Chi flowed throughout his body and soul, which in turn would afford him more power, volume, and control over his Chi, and eventually lead to the formation of a Spiritual Heart.

All of which took place before Hideo even attempted Core Creation, proving that the Martial Path as the Empire understood it was flawed beyond recognition.

How long Hideo spent immersed in the life altering fluid, he could not say, for he put the time to good use meditating in the quiet isolation of the Void. Usually there were too many complications and distractions preventing him from reaching a state of honest introspection, but now there were no sights or sounds, scents or sensations to divert him from his goal. Here and now, he had only his thoughts and the whispers of his subconscious mind, meaning he would either master them both or succumb to the beast within. Success or failure hinged on his ability to sever his desires or at the very least come to terms with them, as well as his willingness to face the facts and accept the mistakes of his past. Mistakes were inevitable, so there was no sense hiding them like some illicit lover, for failure is the mother of success. That was what the Uniter told him, that every achievement worthy of note was built on a mountain of mistakes made by men and women history had long since forgotten, so there was no sense avoiding his dark past at the detriment of his limitless future.

Hideo made many mistakes over the course of his life, almost too many to count. As a young boy, he was enthralled by the stories of his grand-uncle and believed it better to follow in a Living Legend’s footsteps than to forge his own Path and risk faltering along the way. What could a mere grand-nephew accomplish, if the sons and grandsons failed to measure up? No, forging his own Path would only lead to failure, which is why he hesitated to take any step on his own, despite all the advice urging him to do so. When the Grand Conference began, Hideo stood at the forefront of his peers, yet he was careless and lost to Dastan Zhandos in the first match of the contests. This humiliation sent him spiralling into a pit of anger, misery, and self-loathing, for His pride would not allow him to accept so egregious a loss. How could he, Mitsue Hideo, lose to a mere commoner turned slave? The shame was too much to bear, yet now that he reflected upon it, he wondered why a Warrior’s status would affect his skill? Dastan Zhandos was the better Warrior that day, but Mitsue Hideo refused to accept it because he believed he’d been born better than the rest.

Too hesitant to tread his own Path. Too careless to seize victory. Too arrogant to accept defeat. These were the mistakes he made that led him to the darkest moment in his life, when he lost sight of Balance and did unspeakable things to poor, sweet Eri-Hime. He bit into her tender flesh as she screamed in terror and agony, dug into her dainty torso with his bare hands, gazed deep into her eyes as her life faded away, so afraid and confused as to why her ‘big brother Hideo’ would do such things to her. Then she died, and the true atrocities began as he lost sight of his humanity and played out his deepest, darkest desires. Even in the depths of his depravity however, he never could bring himself to mark sweet Eri-Hime’s face, so young and innocent as it watched and judged him with her unseeing eyes, a thought that both thrilled and appalled him.

From that moment on, he was a changed man. Mitsue Hiroshi should have killed him then and there, but he was too weak to do what was necessary. What good was Martial Strength without the strength of will to wield it? What’s more, Hiroshi had been a Peak Expert of the Empire, and no common one either, but a man capable of standing alongside the youngest Living Legend of Central, Ryo Dae Jung. How different would Hideo’s life have been if his father hadn’t hidden his abilities? His childhood would have been different, that’s for sure, for his cousins would not have had the courage to bully the son of a rising dragon the same way they bullied the son of a coin counter. He could have been born as the prince of the Mitsue family with a Peak Expert father to shelter him from above, but instead, Hiroshi hid his skills and left Hideo to bear the weight of the family’s future as well as the envy of his uncles and cousins to boot. How many times did he hear others lamenting about how he’d been born too late? How many days and nights did he push himself to train just that much harder in hopes of acquiring enough strength to hold up the Heavens once Grand Uncle Juichi passed away? How many times did his uncles and aunts tell him he was the hope of the family while doing everything they could to siphon money away from the family so they could run and hide before their father died?

In short, though Mitsue Hideo made many mistakes over the course of his life, the blame did not solely lie with him.

And how did your father force you to kill and eat Eri-Hime?

Seizing upon the thought without hesitation, Hideo wrestled with the devil endeavouring to lead him astray. These were not his thoughts or concerns, but those of the Heavens seeking to waylay him from his true Path, the one that would lead beyond mere Divinity and onward to God-hood itself. Trapping it with his mind and soul, he pit his confidence and conviction against it in a match of wills, contesting with this fragment of the Heavens in an effort to assimilate it into his very being. The whispers spoke of personal responsibility and Hideo’s refusal to accept his part in all this, for he was the reason Eri-Hime died, the reason Mitsue Hiroshi died, the reason for the Mitsue family’s downfall. The voice spoke of how his Grand Uncle Juichi loved him dearly and sacrificed face, reputation, and even honour in a bid to bring Hideo home, even after learning of all the horrendous crimes he’d committed.

“Your Grand-Uncle loves you too much to ever give up on you,” the voice said, and just like before, Hideo hated hearing the ring of truth in its words. “If you do not believe in yourself, then believe in Mitsue Juichi who still believes in his Grand-Nephew and Disciple.

The words brought to mind the last time Hideo saw his Grand-Uncle in person, from across the battlefield in JiangHu after Bai Qi revealed that he’d learned all of Mitsue Juichi’s weaknesses from someone who knew him well. Hidden far back in the crowd, Hideo expected he would see the old man break, but instead, he was greeted with an expression of hope and desperation unlike anything he’d ever seen from the Living Legend, his eyes darting this way and that whilst locked in combat with the formidable Lord of Martial Peace. “Hideo!” The shriek shook him to his core as he watched Grand-Uncle Juichi discard his aloof public persona at the mere prospect of saving him. “Hiroshi! Do not despair! These Defiled will pay for what they’ve done! I will bring you home and do whatever it takes to make you both whole again, this I swear!”

When Bai Qi announced that Hiroshi had died, Hideo watched as Grand Uncle Juichi fell to his knees and wailed in lamentation, the grief and anguish etched so deeply into his bloodied expression that it seemed like it would never be the same again. Then... a revival or strength and renewal of purpose, because there was still hope yet. “Then what of little Hideo?” Grand Uncle Juichi asked, struggling to get back on his feet to finish what he started and kill Bai Qi for good. “Return my grand-nephew at once!”

And fool that he was, Hideo had chosen this moment to step out, believing it the best time to destroy the man he so loved and loathed. There, before an entire army filled with the Empire’s greatest elites, Hideo renounced his Mentor and family for all to hear and denounced Mitsue Juichi for added measure. He blamed the old man for his worthless sons and for ruining a rising dragon, called him a failure of a father, failure of a Mentor, and failure of a Patriarch to boot.

And when he asked the old fool how it felt to see his life’s pursuits amount to nothing, Grand Uncle Juichi finished sobbing before straightening up and stretching his hand out in supplication. “Come back to me, little Hideo. Return to my side, and I will do whatever it takes to bring you back into the light.” Then he admitted all his failures, admitted his mistakes led Hideo down this dark path, and pleaded him not to let an old fool’s mistakes be his doom. When even this wasn’t enough, Grand Uncle Juichi assured him that no one would take Hideo away from him, and then slapped himself for being at fault, not once, not twice, but three times hard enough to draw blood.

“He loved you both dearly, as much as any son or grandson,” the devil said, and in his weakness, Hideo’s will wavered with indecision.

Only for him to look upon the scrolls he’d written and reaffirm his convictions.

Confidence.

Diligence.

Humility.

It was too late for regrets, too late to go back, no matter how much he wished he could. Hideo had made the right decisions, or the best ones he could given his unfortunate circumstances. He would not allow himself to wallow in weakness again. And though he would soon rise up stronger than ever before, he would show no mercy to his enemies or himself, for even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. Seizing the devil of his heart with naught but his iron will, he ground away at its voice until it had nothing left to say, leaving naught but pure, untainted power behind. This was the greatest gift the Uniter bestowed upon him, a portion of raw Energy of the Heavens for him to use as he pleased. Bai Qi and Mao Jianghong used their gifts to force an Awakening, because they both believed they’d reached the Peak of the Martial Path and could go no further, but Hideo was young and full of potential, so he would not limit his future so. Instead, he seized the Energy of the Heavens bestowed upon him and turned his eyes to the Void, finally ready to take what others believed to be the first step along the Dao, yet for him, it merely marked a new beginning.

There in the darkness, he Created his Core, not separate from the Void, but a part of it, while simultaneously existing in his physical body. Oh how the Heavens howled as it sought to reject his burgeoning dominion, but with the Energy of Creation and Destruction firmly in hand, there was nothing the Heavens could do to stop him. As his Core billowed into existence, he rejected the Heavens and rejected their authority to seize control of his own fate. The jealous Heavens sought to manipulate events to keep humanity from ascending, narrowing down the choices to a select few that inevitably led to a dead end Path, but Hideo held fast to his convictions and would walk his own Path from here on out.

And so he formed his Core, one unlike any other in existence, a source of radiating golden light in the darkness of the Void that would soon become a beacon of hope for all humanity. This was Hideo’s Golden Core, utterly incomparable to the false Cores Martial Warriors relied on, for while they used their Cores as a medium to control the Energy of the Heavens, Hideo’s Core offered him dominance over the same. There were many benefits to his new Path, but weaknesses as well. With the Creation of his Golden Core, he’d given himself an immortal body, one which could Heal from any damage so long as his mind and Core remained intact. If someone were to cut him open, they would find nothing physically different until they gazed upon him with more than their physical eyes. Only then would they see his Golden Core, sitting just above his navel, and a discerning observer might even see how it connected to his twelve meridians which passed through every last millimetre of his body. Though he was more powerful than ever before and able to use Chi in ways others could only imagine, he would lose everything if his physical Core was shattered, but it would take more than mere steel to do so. An acceptable weakness, one he would eventually overcome with more progress, and the benefits were significant indeed.

So with this first step along the true Dao, Hideo was no longer a Martial Warrior, but a cultivator, one who pursued the truth in defiance of the Heavens.

There was still much to be done, but the rest came easily with minimal effort. His Natal Palace reformed, not in the image of Wutai mountain, but rather the isolated courtyard in which this all began, where he consumed Eri-Hime and set himself down the path of True Divinity. The grass, the flowers, the wall scrolls, and even Eri-Hime’s bloodied hair and glassy eyes, all of it was a real and alive as anything one might find in nature, the means and knowledge needed to accomplish this nigh-impossible feat seized from the Heavens themselves. Knowing without knowing, understanding without comprehension, this information was stolen and did not truly belong to him just yet, but soon that would change with practice and familiarity, for life was a journey of learning, and Hideo’s Mentor was now the Heavens themselves, whether it wanted to guide him or not. In similar vein, his Domain naturally Developed the moment he sought to exert his Authority, one granted by his Will and divorced from the Heavens. As for Aura, he left that milestone untouched as instructed by the Uniter, for his Golden Core was protection enough from opposing Auras of any variety.

Opening his eyes for the first time in weeks, Hideo emerged from the pit a changed man. When he entered, he could barely reach the lip when standing on his toes, but now, it sat level with his eyes. Lacking the room needed to stretch his arms and legs, he leapt out of the pit with little more than a hop, and utilized his Chi to clear away the brittle black gunk adhered to his flawless, porcelain skin. Taking a moment to appreciate the formidable changes to his physique, his self-admiration was interrupted by an unwelcome presence, and Hideo turned to gaze upon the melted face of his former rival. “Good, Good,” The Uniter exclaimed, speaking through the Demonized Gen whose black and glowing red skin bubbled and flowed like molten lava. Before, hearing the Uniter’s voice relayed in this manner left Hideo reeling in pain and anguish, but now it was no different from hearing anyone else Send, a grand testament to his improvement. “The end of your seclusion has come at a fortuitous time, for this Sovereign has need of your newfangled abilities.”

“Who do you need me to kill?” Eager to test himself in battle, Hideo clenched his fists and flashed a grin that would have women fighting to enjoy his embrace, but mere mortals were of no interest to him anymore. No, only a heavenly fairy like Zheng Luo could ignite his desire, or perhaps a Peak Expert like that bitch Akanai or Jeong Hyo Lynn. How wonderful it would be to take out his frustrations on Geom-Chi’s sisters and mother while he watched, so he prayed for good fortune to the Ryo Family in hopes they would survive these coming conflicts.

“Shi Bei has fallen,” came the Uniter’s reply, surprising Hideo to no end. “As planned. For two weeks now, the Imperials have stretched themselves thin in an effort to hold it, leaving so very many of their Peak Experts gathered in one place. A tempting military target, but this Sovereign cares not for lines drawn on a map. No, to seize victory, we must first deal with our greatest threat.” The Demonic Gen was no larger than he had been as a man, and it pleased Hideo to watch it crane its neck up to look him in the eye. The Demon possessed amber eyes, he noted, but not the warm, living amber of the Bekhai, but rather the glowing embers of a burning hot forge filled with hatred and suffering. “So you, Hideo, First Champion of the Chosen, will proceed to Meng Sha and kill Falling Rain before he wakes. His guardians are formidable, but so too are your allies, for success must be seized here before it becomes far more difficult to achieve.”

As Hideo emerged from the cave with the Demonic Gen at his side, he took in the sight of his allies waiting beneath the blazing midday sun, and noted how the once stifling heat no longer affected him. True to his word, the Uniter held nothing back to ensure Hideo’s success, but he was confident he alone would be enough. There was no need for so many Demons and Divinities, or the formidable Monks of the Brotherhood and their prized pupil Yuanyin, but where Mitsue Hideo would have once balked at the idea of sharing his glory, Hideo, the Heroic Heavenly Guardian, accepted the aid without comment. Better to quash the enemy’s hope and remove any and all chance of failure, negligible though it might be.

Clasping his fist in a military salute, Hideo offered the Uniter his respects. “Falling Rain will die,” he declared, “And not even the Heavens can save him.”

Striding off with his allies at his side, Hideo set out to seize victory and win the war. Only then could he indulge his darkest desires before setting them aside in order to pursue the Dao and unravel the mysteries of Heaven and beyond. That was his ultimate goal now, and every step he took from here on in would be in pursuit of this ambition, for only then could he repay the Heavens for the pain and misery it inflicted upon him.

Trials and tribulations without end, until Hideo rose up to become a calamity to the Heavens themselves before ascending to the next plane of existence and conquering that as well. His journey in this world would be naught but a footnote, beginning with the death of the worthless and insignificant savage, Falling Rain.

Chapter Meme