PtM 18 - Chapter 8: Memory

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Sharp black thorns tore at Cha Ming’s garments as he walked through row upon row of blood red flowers. They scratched his skin and dug deep into muscle and bone. Rivers of clear blood spilled across the garden, infusing the soil with boundless vitality.

Defending would have been easy as flipping a hand, but Cha Ming did not do so. He embraced physical pain and used it shield himself from the emotional pain he was currently experiencing. For those blood red flowers were memories, and among them were those he’d avoided for the better part of six decades.

The first time, she lay there smiling as she always did, telling him to forget her. Telling him to remember the joyful moments they had together and move on with his life. It had taken him a long time to get over their painful parting, and just as long to get used to the fact that he’d found her once again.

The second time, she was fearful. She’d known her end was coming but wasn’t so certain about her next life. She’d told Cha Ming not to go looking for her, even though she knew in her heart that he would ignore this request and look for her anyway.

In comparison, his memories of the Chasewind Plane were less taxing. They were traumatic, to be certain, but felt more like a stab in the gut then a wrenching in his heart. He’d seen a great many people die for petty reasons like greed and vengeance.

They washed over him, refining his spirit much like the Heartforge Spirit Flames. Several hours later, he freed himself from the deadly flowers. The wounds on his ankles and his legs stopped bleeding, as did the few residual wounds left on his heart his heart.

This was healing in the truest sense, as opposed to the cauterization and tempering brought about by his Heartforge Spirit Flames. Such was the nature of the Garden of Memory and its famous trial. Few had the good fortune to enjoy this baptism once, much less a second time.

“If that’s the worse you’ve got, Memory, you can stop testing me now,” said Cha Ming out loud. “My heart has been forged in harsher fires than these.” He walked for several minutes without seeing a single plant after that. Then, all at once, several gardens appeared, neatly laid out along a short brick path.

A golden rose and a black chrysanthemum greeted him in the first garden. Each main flower had eight subsidiary flowers, one of which Cha Ming found particularly loathsome. Rage bubbled up in his heart, but that feeling was immediately iced over by cold savagery.

The next gardens were wild and filled with countless flowers. The land was broken and under invasion by a tide of black weeds. Only thirty-two flowers stood between those weeds and the remaining flower beds. Yet because of their intensely competitive nature, they fought among themselves instead of fighting off their common enemy.

Cha Ming withstood each garden one by one until finally, he reached the center of the garden where the flower called Memory Grew. It was an enormous flower composed of hundreds of thousands of petals. Each petal contained a memory, it was said, and these memories were always added, and never subtracted.

The flower’s countless shimmering petals were welcome sight to Cha Ming, as was the mulberry tree that presided over a perpetual sunset. The large horizontal branch poking out from its wide trunk was unoccupied. If she were here, this scene would be perfect, thought Cha Ming.

He hopped on the branch and basked in the sun’s dying warmth. But it did little to fill the empty void in his heart. Yet it was comforting, so he spent several days on the tree branch, reminiscing and remembering.

On the fifth day, he took out his brush and began pouring out his accumulated feelings on a canvas. The painting was not a new one; it depicted a mulberry tree and two phoenixes basking in the sunset. Cracks spread out from the center like a spiderweb, separating them in life and death. One was painted from pure yang ink and the other from pure yin ink.

“Broken Yin, Shattered Yang,” said Cha Ming, looking exhausted but relieved. “Yearning and Heartbreak on a single canvas. The Heartforge Trials tried to take this from me but failed.” He looked to Memory, but the flower seemed unimpressed.

Sighing, Cha Ming produced another canvas. This time, he painted a composite painting containing ten techniques. The first five were Raging Waves of the Inky Sea, Searing Sands of the Sacred Desert, and their three sister techniques. The next five were complimentary techniques Cha Ming had obtained from Elder Ling after completing the second level of Fuxi’s Puzzle Box.

The result was the most realistic depiction of the Five Point Monarchs to date. One of these monarchs, the Inkwell Ancestor, was the progenitor of the Inkwell Plane. As for the other five, they were located outside the plane, but had left their mark on this territory and had blessed their descendants.

The essence of the painting lay not in the techniques, but the feelings he had for them. They represented an obligation to his teacher, as well as an obligation to the Five Point Monarchs and their descendants.

“Descent of the Five Sovereigns isn’t just a painting – it’s a commitment,” Cha Ming said to the crystalline flower. “I remember my debts, but more importantly, I remember kindness. I won’t just pay back the people I owe but return their investment back several fold.”

The flower didn’t physically move, but Cha Ming sensed a bit more interest this time around. So, he continued with his work and pulled out another canvas. This time, he didn’t produce a copy or improvement on a previous work, but an original painting.

He pointed a deep darkness on the canvas. The darkness was the void, and the void was all-consuming; even the stars and the worlds he painted could not escape it. There was a hopelessness to the void, a knowledge that nothing was eternal.

Even the mightiest of planes would eventually crumble and fall and be consumed by other entities. The universe contained millions of overlapping planes that clashed and collided daily, and every year, hundreds of planes shattered, and hundreds more were born in the void from their fragments.

“At a glance, it looks like any other painting of the Starry Sky,” Cha Ming said to the crystal flower. “But who that have touched upon a higher level will be able to sense the emptiness within it. There’s an all-consuming hunger in that painting. A formless entity called The Great Devourer. It is my future, should I choose to embrace it.”

This time Memory shivered as it took in the painting. Or rather, it saw the Cha Ming had infused it within it and praised them. The darkness in the starscape on the painting contained more than just ink – it contained years of memories of him gobbling up demiplane fragments in the Heartforge Realm. They perfectly captured those moments where he absorbed two demiplanes.

Unlike his other two paintings, this one wasn’t static. Like Memory, it could grow as memories and experiences were added onto it. “So. What will it be?” Cha Ming said, putting away the three paintings. “I can’t stay any longer. It’s time for me to leave this place, and I won’t be returning.”

A breeze blew across the garden, ruffling a few of the many petals on the crystalline flower. Memories flashed in Cha Ming’s mind, and he understood the flower’s intentions. “I see,” said Cha Ming. “You want to come along, but you’re worried about the pain you’ll cause me. You’re worried I won’t be able to handle it.”

The flower answered an affirmative.

“Well I’m much stronger than I used to be,” said Cha Ming. “And I’m probably the only person you’ll ever meet with the potential to take you out of here.”

Negative, answered another stream of images. Memory had discovered eight such individuals. Theyu were just lacking compared to Cha Ming.

Cha Ming spread his Crumbling Canvas throughout the Garden of Memory. Yet he spotted a trace of hesitation, so he immediately stopped the process and confronted the flower. “I thought you’d agreed to come,” Cha Ming said.

Distress. Hesitation. Several images flashed through Cha Ming’s mind. He saw a garden in the stars, along with a silver river that spanned the entire universe. A woman sat in the garden, caring for a flower. She had hair that shone with silver starlight, and the flower had petals that were white as the purest snow.

One day, the flower shattered, and the woman perished. A scythe cut through her heart and shattered her existence. Her blood seeped into the flower, just as fragments of the broken flower mixed into her soul fragments.

The reaper tried to collect their soul fragments, but before he could lay his hands on them, they were whisked away by mysterious gray mists. It was an aeon later that they appeared, this time in a completely different form.

Cha Ming’s eyes widened when he realized what he was seeing. There was woman who could not remember no matter how hard she tried – at most, she could touch upon her endless memories in her dreams – and a white rabbit with snow white fur that was extremely powerful. Most importantly, she would never forget anything.

“I understand,” Cha Ming whispered to the flower. “Forget I ever made the request.” He turned around and began to walk away – only to find himself right back where he started at the center of the garden.

Fear. Yearning. Indecision, the flower projected. It wanted to follow him, but it was doubtful that Cha Ming could actually help it.

Cha Ming sighed. “Look, I can’t linger around forever. Make up your mind.” Several minutes passed in silence, until finally, the last of the flower’s resistance faded. “You asked for this. Remember that.”

He stamped a foot and shot into the star-speckled void just outside Verdane, where the fragment of memory had taken root on the Inkwell Plane. The region’s many pocket realms were just extensions of those roots - they vanished as the flower began to pull them all back within itself.

There were twelve pocket realms in the area, and all of them carefully cultivated by not only Verdane but by the two churches as well. It therefore came as no surprise to Cha Ming when a late-gold ranker flew into the void to confront Cha Ming.

“Does your greed know no limits, Clear Sky?” the man shouted. He was an older fellow with flowing gray hair. Instead of armor or battle robes, he wore dirty overalls and a worn cotton shirt.

“I normally wouldn’t brother such a peaceful place, Prime Gardener,” Cha Ming replied. “But it is special to me, and highly valued by the church. More importantly, it wants to come with me. Step aside.”

“Nonsense!” said the Prime Gardener. “These gardens have been under our care of millennia. How could they ever want to leave, and with you, of all people?”

Cha Ming sensed a shiver in space as void ships closed in on their location. “You’re stalling,” he said.

“So what?” said the Prime Gardener. “What can you do about it? This pocket realm is too powerful for you to just take away. Reinforcements will arrive well before the process is completed.”

Cha Ming frowned. It was indeed as the Prime Gardener said. It would take several minutes for Memory to fully retract its roots and extricate itself. What was worse, the Prime Gardener’s presence was influencing Memory and slowing the process down.

“Aren’t you afraid of biting off more than you can chew?” Cha Ming said. “Gardeners aren’t combat classes – you don’t stand a chance against me.”

The Prime Gardener chuckled when he heard this. “You’re welcome to try me, Clear Sky. But I’m afraid you’ll end up disappointed.”

Time was of the essence, so Cha Ming directly used Bloodstorm Rush to close the gap between them. “Bloodstorm Crush@” Cha Ming said, superimposing blood, wind, and lightning energies into the staff strike.

Yet things did not go as Cha Ming expected. The Sky Propping Pillar encountered heavy resistance as it approached the gardener. A shockwave blasted out of Cha Ming’s hands and forced him back a hundred meters.

“I’m afraid attacking me is out of the question,” said the Prime Gardener. “I am sworn to non-violence and nurturing all things in creation. No living creature in this world would ever think of injuring me.”

Cha Ming snorted. “All laws in this universe can be overwritten with sufficient power.”

“If you possess such power, you’ll need to show me,” said the Prime Gardener with a smile. “You still have a couple of minutes before reinforcements arrive.”

“Then let’s see if you can handle me at my strongest,” Cha Ming said. “Regalia, activate!” Crystal-gold gloves appeared on his hands. Scale-like runes extended up to his elbows, while flexible crystalline material covered his fingers, ending in sharp claws that could tear armor to pieces.

His robes were the second thing that changed. They too were crystalline but containing a hint of iridescence. They otherwise looked rather ordinary; only those with keen eyes would be able to spot that these garments weren’t solid but made of flowing, glassy flames.

Regalia was something only gods could truly summon. Prototype regalia like Cha Ming’s were even rarer, since they were both insanely difficult to cultivate and to craft. The Prime Gardener’s expression turned grave as the pressure Cha Ming gave off mounted exponentially, and the pressure only got worse when three pairs of burning white wings appeared on Cha Ming’s back.

“Let’s try this again,” Cha Ming said. He took a Clear Rune Step forward and swung out with the Sky Propping Pillar, triggering countless clear runes that now filled the void adjacent to the Inkwell Plane. Space shattered, as did the web of laws protecting the gardener. The gardener spat out blood as he was forced back from his original position.

Cha Ming a step towards the crystalline flower that had appeared in the void and tapped it with a finger. A crumbling canvas expanded from this point and began breaking down all matter and energy in the vicinity. This alone wouldn’t be quick enough, so Cha Ming took out the Sky Forge Hammer and lifted it above his head. As it came down, one of the twelve pocket realms broke into pieces and flew towards the flower, who greedily reincorporated them into its being.

Cha Ming tried to pull in a second world when he felt law threads tightened around his arm and pulling on his body. “Your entry is prohibited,” came the voice of the Prime Gardener. A force field appeared around the flower and pushed him outside of the range of the pocket realms. “Root Cage. Mesmerizing Crystal Lotus. Banish the Trespasser!” shouted the Prime Gardener.

Cha Ming lost feeling in his legs, and his mind went reeling as a spinning lotus descended upon him and struck him with wave after wave of disorienting pollen. He immediately summoned Heartforge Spirit Flames to burn away the pollen. As for the flower, it too burned away – only to turn into smoke that shot into his body, immobilizing him for a few seconds longer.

This gardener’s entire skillset revolves around delaying and prohibiting actions, Cha Ming thought. If this keeps up, I’ll lose my chance.

He pulled out a scroll from the Clear Sky World and unfurled it. It was none other than Broken Ying, Shattered Yang. Yearning and heartbreak spread throughout the battlefield and combined with his Crumbling Canvas, destroying the spores in the air and the roots keeping him in place.

“Ninesky, keep him busy,” Cha Ming ordered.

A streak of gray flew out of the Clear Sky World and painted the void. An eight-directional prison appeared around the Prime Gardener, locking him in place. Cha Ming took the opportunity to appear beside another of Memory’s roots and strike another pocket realm with his hammer, ejecting all foreign life forms and claiming another portion of Memory’s essence.

He repeated the process five more times before rejection struck him once again. He appeared beside the Prime Gardener, whose skin had shrivelled up. Many streaks of white now laced his long gray hair.

“I won’t allow you to take the Garden of Memory from us,” the Prime Gardener said softly. “Too many of us depend on it.” He then raised his right hand and stuck out his thumb, which glowed with a soft green light. “Green Thumb Proliferation! Void Lifeform Transformation! Unending Paradise!” The thumb pressed down, and a multitude of plants began to grow in void space. They didn’t seem bothered by the lack of oxygen or sunlight or nutrients.

Cha Ming’s expression turned grim. A giant garden had appeared in only a few seconds. The many plants in it had a life level that exceeded the strength of his divine shell; they were slowly but surely leeching him of Dao Energy.

“Ninesky, use Bloodstorm Style!” Cha Ming shouted. An explosion of violent energy rampaged through the garden, reducing half of it to ashes. “Luther, Coral, Disaster – Bloodstorm Apocalypse!”

Three moons appeared over the battlefield as the bloodstorm trio charged out, tearing apart vines and breaking apart trunks. Sky Tearing Winds, Soul Lashing Rain, and Blood Calamity Hail attacked the garden.

Yet no matter how hard they tried, they could not breach the spherical prison of greenery. “It’s not use,” came the gardener’s voice again. “These plants aren’t normal plants. The flower in the garden committed them to memory, so unless that flower is destroyed, which would be a pity, these plants will continue to endure.

“Nonsense,” Cha Ming said. He summoned the Sky Propping Pillar and slammed it into the ground. “Expand. Break this prison. Pierce the sky!” The pillar quickly grew until it spanned the entire prison. The walls of greenery began to creak and groan, and before long, cracks appeared on its structure.

Brute force won’t work against an opponent like this,Cha Ming thought. I can only expose one of my trump cards. Cha Ming eyed the cracks in the prison and spotted one crack that was wider than the rest. The wall of greenery was weakest here.

A clone split off from his main body and charged towards the crack as Cha Ming poured the rest of his strength into the pillar.

“Naïve,” said the Prime Gardener. Vines shot out from the wall and wrapped around Cha Ming’s incarnation before it could accomplish its mission.

But Cha Ming didn’t give up – instead, he redoubled his efforts. An immortal jade flew out from the Clear Sky World and shattered, filling the prison with a large amount of immortal energy.

The plants in the garden began to wilt from the overwhelming energy. As for Cha Ming, he was highly resistant to immortal energy, and used his Crumbling Canvas to collect it and infuse it into his body. His muscle fibers, which were already immolating thanks Triune Soul Burn, began to break apart. Power like this was poison, and even Yu Wen, who cultivated Grandmist, had succumbed to it.

I have three seconds before the backlash hits, Cha Ming thought. One. He grabbed the Sky Propping Pillar and pulled upwards. The cracks in the prison of greenery widened, and large swaths of vines tore apart from the strain.

Two. Glass flames spread out from his cloak and filled the pocket realm. These flames had a persistent nature, and resisted all attempts made by the gardener to extinguish them.

Three. The trapped incarnation exploded and destroyed a section of the prison. Cha Ming used Bloodstorm Rush to race towards the rapidly closing exit. But to his dismay, the gap closed over in half a second.

A sigh filled the sphere. “If you were slightly stronger, I’d have no way to contain you. You should be proud that you were able to force a specialist like me to the brink of death. Look at the price I had to pay to prevent you from leaving. Are you not satisfied with such an outcome?”

Cha Ming looked at the wrinkled old man. He didn’t have much vitality remaining. Seeing that escaping was no longer possible, Cha Ming deactivated Triune Soul Burn and pulled back his regalia. “You don’t care about either church,” he said to the gardener. “Why do you listen to their orders?”

The Prime Gardener smiled. “I fell in love with these gardens in my youth and swore to protect them. This has nothing to do with the churches. They’ve made several attempts on these gardens over the years but I have stopped them at every turn.”

It was a simple reason, but Cha Ming could sense that he was telling the truth.; “Then I’m sorry in advance, Prime Gardener.”

The prime gardener’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? You still have other cards up your sleeve?”

“No,” said Cha Ming, shaking his head. “I already used it. You just haven’t been able to tell truth apart from deception.”

“Impossible,” said the Prime Gardener. He looked around the prison and saw that everything was up in flames. “Unless…” He closed his eyes and communicated directly with the prison. “These flames refuse to die out. But they’re not burning anything. So why did you summon them in the first place?”

Cha Ming chuckled. “Why indeed?” The glass flames winked out, and the true layout of the prison was revealed. Cha Ming was unharmed, save for black veins that ran along his arms and neck from the immortal energy’s poisoning. A gaping hole had been torn open in the prison wall. Thanks to his evolved divine ability, Glass Flame Imitation, the Prime Gardener had mistakenly thought it healed over.

Cha Ming made no move to escape. His clone had already gotten out and shattered the remaining six pocket realms, accelerating the collapse of the Garden of Memory. All that remained was a crystal flower that radiated majesty and dominance over all plant life forms. The verdant prison melted at its command, and the Prime Gardener was helpless to stop Cha Ming from escaping.

“Take care of that flower!” shouted the gardener as Cha Ming pulled Memory into the Clear Sky World. “

“Memory thanks you for many generations of care,” Cha Ming said to the gardener. Several crystalline petals flew out from the Clear Sky World and settled in the gardener’s palm. “These petals contain boundless life force and knowledge on plants of all kinds. They will persist for ten generations. I suggest not squandering this opportunity.”

The Prime Gardener could only bitterly accept the parting gift. “A gardener’s greatest pleasure is watching his charges flourish. I will no longer insert myself in this conflict.”

“That would be for the best,” said Cha Ming. He looked on coldly as hundreds of ships arrived, each one containing dozens of gold rankers and equivalent Painted Daoists. “Consider yourselves lucky,” he said before taking out his saint-grade ship.

When the cultivators arrived, they found nothing but shattered space and a dissipating trail of wind, lightning, and blood.