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Tao Wong
Tao Wong

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The Fourth Fall - Chapter 48 preview

**Author Note: Preview chapters are rough/first drafts. These chapters have not been edited, expect that there may be errors - however, feel free to point out consistency issues!*

Meng Dai clutched his chest, stumbling a little as his eyes widened. He gasped a little, feeling his dao and the ravening maw that was his body and soul widening as it tried to consume, tried to grasp that which had been so recently gifted to him. Breathing shifted, struggling a little with each moment as his hand clutched at the ring, hesitating at casting it away.

“What did you do to me?” Meng Dai snarled, having released Wu Ying in surprise.

The wind cultivator, arm flopping down beside him, the bones within broken and shattered, the skin around the arm and in his hand blackened and burnt smiled a little as he replied. “Gave you what you wanted.”

“What... what do you... mean?”  Anger now, even as the king struggled to push through the fluctuations in his dao. He could feel it splitting around him, his dao stretching wider and wider as he tried to encompass that simple, almost nondescript ring.

“You wanted everything, our lives, the nations and even this world. So I gave you one.” Wu Ying stood, feeling the overbreaing aura that had held him down fade. The others were standing as well, many readying skills and techniques to launch against the king. They hesitated though, as the wind cultivator raised a hand, retreating slowly.

“A what? A world?” Then, understanding reached him, comprehension of what it was that he gripped. Meng Dai visibly struggled, his hands twitching as he considered throwing away the ring. Fought against himself. He should, he must do so, for even attempting to pull the ring and its contents into him, Meng Dai’s cultivation base was splitting apart.

“Can’t do it, can you?” Wu Ying said. “That’s the thing about daos, about the demonic influence.” He retreated now, his eyes locked on the ring, on the king who was fighting himself to throw away the ring before it broke down entirely. “A simple trap, based around who and what we are. You can’t throw away my World Spirit Ring, because it’s worth too much to you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, a whole world.”

It was a double-edged sword, this trap. If Meng Dai managed to cast the World Spirit Ring away, he would do so only by breaking a part of his own dao. Damaging himself and weakening who and what he was, possibly permanently. On the other hand, if he held on to the ring, he would tear himself apart attempting to take in the ring and its contents.

A trap, the best kind, the one where either choice was a failure.

“You gave up your World Spirit Ring at last,” Sect Head Yang said, joining Wu Ying and the rest of the group. He glanced down, at the corpse of his friend that lay near the twisted, ravening maw that was the king. The very air itself had altered, the light fading away into darkness. The only glimpse of light left was in center of the man’s body as it leaked through the gaps in his fingers where the World Spirit Ring and its fire and light dao escaped.

After all, it was an entire continent in there, a seperate world.

“You know the story.” Wu Ying said, a little surprised.

“I am the head of our sect,” Shu Ren said, wryly. “Even a poor one would note the fight betwen a promising student and their Head of Gatherers. A simple enquiry and she was quite willing to discuss how ungrateful and selfish you were, how you refused to accept a simple recommendation for your own good. How you were too young and mean-minded, too grasping.” He tilted his head to the side, where Yang Mu stood. “When you returned with the Merchant I must admit, I was concerned as well.

“Greed and avarice, an over-indulgence and a placement of importance in material things when young is understandable. When one is older, it is hoped that such small thoughts are released.”

“Or so the orthodox, secular sects would have you think.” Yang Mu snorted. “There are more than one path to immortality.” She nodded to the king, who was struggling, the power pulsing through the surroundings. It rippled and shattered, again and again over the surroundings, a twisting of the very fundamentals of the world as portions of the spaital ring escaped the grasping hands of the king.

“Yes. Let us observe how well it has served him.” Shu Ren voice was so dry, if it was a dessert not even the meanest of lives could have survived.

“Well, that’s all Ying’s fault after all,” Yang Mu said. She looked over to the wind cultivator, then her eyes widened and she ducked over, grabbing hold of him as he slumped. She helped keep him standing, her eyes tightened in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... nothing at all.” Wu YIng grunted out. The pill that she had fed him was fading away, its energies diverted to fix his arm and the burns, such that the papered over cracks of his soul and body were now tearing. He could barely see any longer,

“If you say you’re just tired, or only resting, or barely injured...” Fa Yuan said, coldly, “ I will smack you.”

Before Wu Ying could reply, another ripple rolled outwards from Meng Dai. It threw the group backwards a few steps, the Sect Head wielding his own spiritual aura to blunt the sudden blast of power. In the surroundings around them, the world blasted clear; earth tearing free, roots set upon fire and the clouds above dispersing. A moment later, another pulse, this time from the spiritual ring rippled outwards.

Wood and earth chi exploded from the ring, spatial energy breaking down with each moment. The earth that had been blasted clear and the darker soil beneath was rejuvenated, earth chi embedding itself in the ground to allow the wood chi to accelerate growth of grass and weeds within. Spirit grass sprouted, dandelions and clover spreading over the earth even as the fires burnt higher as flame chi exploded.

As for the figure, his body could barely seen now, his obdy a blackoutline of shadows that swallowed light and chi from around. However, that dark figure was now outlined with light, cracks of energy and chi escaping through the gaps in the man’s immortality.

To his great regret, Wu Ying understood what the man was experiencing. His own soul and body was like that, though even more broken. He just did not have the competing pressures of a demonic heart and an entire continent being consumed putting pressure on that conception. Like a dyke that was attempting to hold back a flood-engorged river, leaks appeared, characterised by chi and blood escaping.

“Exactly how big was that World Spirit Ring?” the last Sword of Iron Gorge asked, eyes wide as he retreated another step in fear as a pulse rippled through them. Once more, the entire group skidded backwards, forced away.

Wu Ying glanced over, noted that Yin Xue was carried, slumped over in the arms of the Sixth General. He hesitated, then shrugged, realising there was no point in hiding it anymore.

“It was a true World Spirit Ring, though long disused. It only held a large continent’s worth of mass and matter,” he said.

“Only.” Fa Yuan was dry, then looked around slowly. Her fingers began to weave together, as she sent a message. “I recommend we retreat further.”

“Agreed.” Sect Head Yuan extracted a half-dozen spirit steed talismans from his ring, casting it on the ground. The creatures that rose from the talisman, forming their ghostly outlines with the talismans burning in their center were on the smaller size for horses, but more than sufficient for the group to sit astride.

Sitting astride the horses, Wu Ying held close by Yang Mu in front of her, they took to the skies. In the distance, the Seven Tier Immortal Pagoda had taken off as well, pulling away. Even now, it was under fire by the Cai’s own moving fortress, twisting beams of chi crossing the air to impact shields of water and light and metal chi, the twisting empowerment of beast stones.

Any other time, the twisting explosions of the far-off spirit instruments, weapons of war that baked the earth and threw the very foundations of the world into question, doing battle would be a sight to marvel upon. Now, their exchange of fire was but a mild counterpoint to the on-going destruction and waves of rejuventation happening below.

Smaller groups, the Princes were also fleeing, though mostly on foot or astride steeds that raced across the ground. It was impossible to take to the air without some form of protection against the unrelenting pounding pulses of energy that were released by the dying king.

“The Princes?” Wu Ying croaked, hoping someone had an answer.

“In the pagoda, safe. Or safe enough,” Fa Yuan answered. “The First Prince is injured, though not badly. The Fourth has acquitted himself well, but had to utilize an emergency beacon to transport himself back when this began.”

“My people?” the last Sword asked.

“Sheltering.” Shu Ren gestured below, to the grounded and burning palace. A smaller bubble had formed, layered multiple times as the remaining members of the Wei loyalists - and perhaps some traitors turned loyalists again - hid. The remaining defences of the palace had been turned on, pulling whatever energy it could to provide them safety.

“I...”

“You’ll never make it,” Shu Ren said firmly. “We will return you, with all due honours, later.”

“Sect Head.” Yang Mu’s voice came softly, her hand raised and pointing. They followed it, seeing the small group in a trio of war chariots flying down from the fortress. Each of them held a group of three, the first a driver, the other two strong cultivators. Only their enhanced vision let them pick out what was held in their hands. Well, for everyone but Wu Ying who had to rely on the others to speak the obvious.

“They intend to stabilize him,” Fa Yuan said, grimacing.

“Do they have the time?” Wu Ying asked, uncertain. He was barely holding on to his consciousness now, the pulsing and tearing setting his own injuries ablaze. Yet, he dared not leave, not yet.

“Maybe...” Shu Ren shook his head. “That man should have collapsed already. I would have.” A grimace, then he added. “I am unsure we can risk it.”

“Can we wait, though?” Fa Yuan muttered, eyeing the center of the slowly expanding area of chaos. If it was pure destruction, it would have been easier to handle. But the expanding pulses were a flood of varying chi, from the escaped major elements of the World Spirit Ring to twisted spatial shears that tore up the land around, compressing or twisting it in strange manners. “Even I would fear stepping in.”

A slight inclination of the head, as the group hovered and shifted further away, allowing the expanding bubble of chaos to push them.

“I could...” Wu Ying spoke up, pulling himself upwards and placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. He could use his left hand, he had trained with it. If he used the Dragon Rises or one of the Wandering Dragon cuts...

“You idiot. You’re not the only one here,” Fa Yuan said. “Not the only student of our Master.” Then, she nodded to the group of three. “Wait. We might not need to act.”

And it was true, enough, that the trio of chariots were having a hard enough time, fighting their way down to their struggling leader. The threads of aura that connected them gave them a guideline to utilize as they charged downwards, the ghostly, spirit steeds that pulled them down burning chi and the very air as they plowed downwards. But the chariots were thrown around on their connection.

The first to fall was a formation master in the center. Jerked from the carriage, he was thrown off the chariot and fell, only to be battered by another surging pulse of power. Outside of the protection of the chariot and the drivers, his body was torn apart by the surging energy, a mist of blood and bone expanding that grew buds and a swarm of insects.

The next to fail was the lead chariot. Holding the line in front, the spirit mares ran out of energy before they reached the earth, the spirit mares popping like soap bubbles in the air. The chariot itself tumbled down at greater speed, the driver now throwing his hands out as he reinforced the protective measures around the chariot.

When it crashed, Wu Ying swore he could hear the crash of wood and metal and flesh to unyielding ground, the harsh impact of myriad cultivators falling to their death. He could taste the blood that lay in his mouth, imagine it was theirs, the breakage of bones and the impact.

He turned away, not willing to continue looking. Enemies or not, that was a painful death; especially as the energies kept escaping. The figure in the center was now more light than darkness, as though the cracks and the energy he tried to contain was coming apart ever faster. Yet, he was not broken, not split apart.

Not dead.

The last carriage, falling behind and sheltering the others managed to land, the second carriage coming apart moments before it did. Its cultivators dying in a blaze of dark flame that swept into the center of the inferno, their lives and chi stolen to reinforce their leader. Now, Wu Ying could see it, spot what was keeping the man afloat.

A horrendous, horrible truth.

“He’s drainin his people,” Yang Mu said. “He’s taking their chi.”

“Not just their chi. Life force and meaning too, their dao.” Something shone in Fa Yuan’s eyes now, as she triggered her skill. Something dark and dangerous as she spoke. “He’s broken their pact, taken more than he has given.”

“Yes.” Sect Head Yuan said that simply, looking at Fa Yuan who slipped off the spirit steed.

Wu Ying could not help it, he asked the winds for help. It hurt, even using his spirit that much, but he helped stabilize the air beneath her feet as she stepped forward, pushing such that she stood only a single step behind the Sect Head. Her voice dropped, lower and lower as she spoke.

“No longer is he balancing his cultivation. No longer is he the beneficent tyrant, or paternal despot. Now, the ravening beast that lay within is revealed.” She turned a little, a leg falling back. She placed her hand on the hilt of a sword, her voice barely above a whisper. “Now, the scales lie unbalanced.”

When she cut, it was not upwards like his own Dragon Rises or the Karma Severing Cut. It was a horizontal cut, as though shearing through the chains linking a scale. Setting the entire structure flying apart, rebalancing the world by removing the weights in an unfair deal.

She did not speak the name of the attack, and he could see flaws within it. As she said, she was no sword prodigy. She had come up with this attack with the aid of his Master, not through her own conception.

It still was highly effective.

If the king had not been otherwise occupied, he could have defended himself. If he had even poured a touch of his own energy into this, he could have blocked it. But caught, forced to attempt to integrate the energy and an entire world; he could not turn his attention that way.

Nor was it a physical attack that could be blocked. Even so, she was but a Core Formation cultivator, a single individaul striking from afar after a long battle. The energy that she had to exert, the extent of her attack was only a fraction of the connections the man had. Even so, when she finished her swing, the attack tore through that place and time that was between the worlds, slicing apart karma and energy.

Tilting the balance back to true.

The backlash, the sudden loss of reinforcement, the on-going pressure of the ring that had broken down now; the dimensional space only held in place by will and strength. It was too much.

When the explosion came, when the immortal body of the king came apart and the ring he had attempted to assimilate was no longer contained, it threw the world into disarray once again. An expanding ball of chi and power, flooding outwards to cast them away; battering not just their physical bodies but their spiritual selves as well.

Agonizing pain and pressure, such that Wu Ying, already all too fragile was overwhelmed.

He could not see, he could not breathe, he could not hear but the roaring of a world rent asunder.

All he could sense, through a tenuous connection was Yang Mu, desperately shifting and twisting things around. All he could feel was the world bend around him, as a final gift was utilized. All there was, was her words, uttered with utter certainty.

“I will not give you up. Now, or ever.”

Then, finally, the darkness claimed him.

Comments

Yang Mu is a good wifey

chad osborn

Excellent chapter

Jack S


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