~~~

His wounded body lies at his feet.

Drops of his blood seep in between the cracks on the ground. Xun Huwen’s attack had been like countless knives piercing every inch of his flesh with reckless, gleeful abandon. The pain had been so intense, so unbearable, that Liu Jin had lost consciousness. It just so happened that when his mind sought the sweet escape of oblivion, his soul remained awake.

Existing.

Even as the fight between Lady Ling and Xun Huwen raged mere yards away from him, there had been nothing Liu Jin could do but watch. All his Qi was focused on mending his broken body. It still is. Had his block been any slower, had his snakes been any weaker, he’d already be dead. It is not the first time Liu Jin has been in mortal danger, but it is the first time he has survived by such a small margin.

Had Mud not shown up to help Lady Ling, Liu Jin’s body would have ended up as naught but collateral damage. Even as nothing more than a soul tethered to a body, Liu Jin could feel the power Lady Ling and Xun Huwen were throwing around. Were it not for the barrier Lady Ling had created for Feng Hao’s sake, the destruction would have long since reached the Ash Road.

It had been with tremendous but short-lived relief that Liu Jin watched Xun Huwen finally walk away.

As Lord Feng Gui’s angry presence blankets the entirety of the Eternal Flame Clan, Lady Ling takes off without warning. Liu Jin can only look with worry as blood dribbles from his body’s mouth. Even from so far away, the pressure created by Lord Feng Gui’s Qi is too much for his wounded body. However, there is nothing Liu Jin can do. He cannot carry his body to a safe place or speed up his healing. His soul trembles. There is nothing for him to do but hope his regeneration manages to overcome this challenge.

“Do not worry.”

Mud’s voice is accompanied by the rising of his Qi. It stands like a bulwark against the pressure created by Lord Feng Gui’s Qi, protecting Liu Jin’s body from further harm.

“I shall remain here until your body has finished mending itself.”

Gratitude wells up inside Liu Jin. Even though he has no tear ducts, a few drops roll down his cheeks.

“Not all mud has eyes, but this one does,” Mud adds. The Core Disciple does not look at him as he speaks. He is staring in the direction Lady Ling has run off to, his head tilted to the side in a distinctively owl-like way. “Lady Ling has gone to where her husband and son are, though I cannot say how much use she will be there.”

Mud kicks a piece of rubble into the deep chasm left by Lady Ling’s attack. It falls and falls, but the sound of it hitting the bottom never reaches Liu Jin’s ears. The rock keeps plunging into the void.

“Thank you,” Liu Jin says at last. “For staying and for interfering with the fight. I would have died if not for Senior Brother.”

“There is no need to thank this Mud. This Mud only does as Master Xun orders.”

Liu Jin blinks. At least, he thinks he does. It is hard to tell as a soul. In the first place, does he even have eyes to blink with? His form shudders as soon as the thought takes shape. Shaking his head, Liu Jin shoves those ideas into the far recesses of his mind. Best not to think too deeply about his nature right now.

“Elder Xun ordered you to save me, Senior Brother?”

“Not in so many words, but this Mud has been enacting Master Xun’s will for two hundred years. Mud can understand the words his Master has not said.”

The air vibrates. A low tremor spreads throughout the compound. Mud, who had looked unfazed when fighting Xun Huwen, now sports a deep frown on his face. Sweat shines on his forehead. A second presence has joined that of Lord Feng Gui. The clashing auras screech and grind against each other like metal against metal. Despite the protection granted to him by Mud’s Qi, Liu Jin falls to his knees as the weight of two Emperor-class cultivators oppresses all.

The main house cannot be seen from here, yet Liu Jin finds his eyes drawn there all the same. The clashing energies of Feng siblings shine like the sun as the sky opens up. The clouds vanish, and the blue veil is ripped open to reveal inky blackness covered by a smattering of stars. Reality itself quivers and twists in a mesmerizing display. Dark spots appear in his vision. He cannot think. He cannot look away. His soul exists for this moment. To behold this. To-

“Do not look.”

Claws grab him by the chin and force him to look away. Liu Jin wants to keep looking, but the claws keep a tight hold of him, somehow not wounding him despite their sharpness. Not content with his chin, feathers fall on his shoulders and force him down.

“It is dangerous to look upon the works of the mighty,” Mud says. His voice is heavier now. He has seated himself on the ground with his hands over his knees. His shimmering Qi shudders as though it were about to break, but the bulwark holds on. “When true Emperors clash, they do so on a level that goes beyond raw power. We are but mere moths drawn to the flames, unable to turn away.”

Mere moths drawn to the flames.

“What about all the disciples in the compound?” Liu Jin asks, his soul still pressed against the warm, cracked ground by claws and feathers. “What will happen to them?”

Mud does not answer. He remains seated, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Liu Jin’s stomach drops.

“Senior Brother?”

“I expect nothing good will happen to them,” Mud answers after a while. He stares at the clash of energies ahead as though he were staring at the sun. “The closer they are, the worse it will be. Xun Huwen is quite devious.”

“Xun Huwen?”

“Xun Huwen’s Dao is Destruction,” Mud explains. “Through his Dao, he can always see the best path towards destruction. That is why he is so dangerous.”

A strong tremor shakes the compound once more. The earth rumbles beneath them. Lady Ling’s mansion crumbles piece by piece. Her priceless jewels and dresses are buried under the rubble. The servants have long since fled. Liu Jin hopes they managed to get far away.

“However, Master Xun has already foreseen this and saw no reason to worry.”

Mud takes a deep breath.

“It will be over soon.”

~~~

Purpose.

The meaning of that word is something Feng Gui has often pondered throughout his hundreds of years in this world. It is something he must ponder. His Dao is not that of pure Destruction like Xun Huwen’s but rather Destruction that serves a singular purpose. It had taken him years of meditation, life-or-death struggles, and countless other trials to arrive at that answer. His is not the Dao of reckless Destruction, but of the Destruction that makes way for Creation.

That is his purpose. He is the Destroyer who makes way for something new and better.

However, is it truly so simple?

An eagle hunts for sustenance, to feed itself and its young. However, a man can hunt for many other reasons. To challenge himself. To harvest the body of his prey. For pleasure. All those are purposes and in no way lesser to sustenance. One could even argue it is impossible for an action to be without purpose, even if that purpose is utterly banal.

And yet, that must be wrong.

If it were that simple, why would Xun Huwen be such an exception among those who arrive at the path of Destruction?

Feng Gui’s Qi clashes against his brother’s, destroying the courtyard and unleashing furious gales as the two rise into the air. In the span of a single breath, they are several miles above the Eternal Flame Clan. Their combined might clears the sky of all clouds and outshines the sun itself. So heavy is their presence that the earth trembles under its weight. The vault of heaven opens up above them, replacing blues skies with the starry sky of the evening.

“It is only proper,” their father had told them a long time ago, “To ensure your fights do not disturb others.”

Feng Gui’s lips pull back in a grin as the memory comes to him. Oh, the irony, yet for what reason did he and his brother fly up if not to limit the damage? Even when Feng Gui had flared his Qi, he had made sure none of it touched a single hair of Feng Hao’s head. It would defeat the whole purpose if he endangered his son in his anger.

Purpose. There is that word again.

Feng Gui has had several children with various women all over this side of the Dead Plains. Many are the relationships he has destroyed in the process. He has never once hidden that or been ashamed of it. While his brother has always looked down on him for such habits, there is a purpose to them. Several, in fact.

Their bloodline is an old one, stretching back all the way to the One Hundred and Eight. Their blood holds the key that protects the continent. Thus, preservation is a necessity, a duty. By spreading his seed, Feng Gui lowers their bloodline’s odds of dying out. Furthermore, the more children he has, the higher the odds of obtaining a prodigy that will not only give him the Eternal Flame Clan but also become a stalwart protector of humanity should the time arrive.

Someone like Feng Shang, who has neglected his duties yet was rewarded for it with a prodigy like Feng Zhuo, cannot possibly understand the purpose that drives him, cannot understand what he is attempting to create.

Feng Hao is his finest work. His number one son. A prodigy child that will surpass all. Attacks on his son are not allowed. Attempts on his life, even less.

To preserve their bloodline.

To secure the right to command the Eternal Flame Clan.

To protect Feng Hao.

They appear one by one on his soul. Motives which place the destruction of his brother firmly within his domain. By attacking Feng Hao, his brother has made himself a threat to all he is attempting to create. Thus, Feng Shang’s destruction is one that is necessary to secure his vision.

And yet, Feng Gui’s soul does not grab hold of any of those.

“Be reasonable!” Feng Shang shouts. The words are embedded so deeply into his Qi that Feng Gui feels them more than hears them. His brother looks at him with anger and exasperation. His hair bristles like fire. “You’re only acting as that child wants!”

There is probably some truth to that, Feng Gui muses. Xun Huwen had known attacking his son would provoke this sort of reaction from him.

One might even call that a purpose.

Feng Gui breathes deeply and lowers his hands. His muscles relax, and his Qi quiets down. Almost reflexively, Feng Shang lowers his hands as well.

Feng Gui’s flaming fist strikes him across the face.

Feng Shang does not have time to look shocked as Feng Gui’s flaming fists keep striking his body one after another. The very fabric of reality quivers around them as Feng Gui’s flames burn white. No matter how much he tries, there is no defense Feng Shang can raise to stop his brother’s attacks. He cannot block. He cannot dodge. He can only stand helpless as they land.

It stops.

The space around the two brothers twists, finally stopping Feng Gui’s attacks. Feng Gui clicks his tongue as Feng Shang glares hatefully at him, wiping some blood from his face. By the time Feng Shang has finished wiping it off, the wound is already sealed.

That had not lasted nearly as long as Feng Gui wanted.

“Time,” Feng Shang says, but it is not a cry for mercy. His whole body heaves. His aura burns brighter. “You destroyed the time it takes for your attacks to reach me.”

Always so quick to understand.

“Were you impressed, dear brother?” Feng Gui keeps his tone light, at odds with the anger burning in his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you. It has been so long since we last fought each other.”

No sooner has he finished speaking, Feng Gui brings arms forward, hands cupped together. Various purposes flash through his soul, yet he ignores them in favor of the one he has already chosen. A stream of fire hotter than a million degrees erupts from his hands and takes the shape of a raging dragon.

[Joyous Dragon Surge]

The attack never reaches his brother.

Feng Gui's dragon scatters into a million embers. Then each ember into a million more and each one of those into another million. In the span of a single breath, all those flickering sparks are scattered to even the furthest reaches of the Empire. Not one of them ever touches his brother.

Destroying time makes no difference when reaching the destination was impossible from the start.

Feng Gui snorts.

Typical.

His brother could never do anything simply. Even his Dao could not be simple. Feng Shang's Dao is not the sort of thing that can be easily summed up in one word or even a few of them. It is not something as banal as Balance or Stability for all that his brother loves talking of such things.

Through Fire, Burning. Through Burning, Destruction. That is the path Feng Gui followed to reach his Dao. His brother took a more circuitous path. Despite all their years together, Feng Gui cannot claim to fully understand his brother’s Dao, but experience has taught him it makes him uniquely suited to fight him.

However, it’s only that.

Feng Gui flares his Qi. It burns the air itself and fills the area with his presence. Feng Shang’s Qi rises to match him. Denying him entry into his territory, trying to claim the reality around them as his own. Reality screeches as Dao clashes against Dao. It comes apart at the seams and unravels before their eyes. Despite this, neither stops. They cannot stop.

In the end, it always comes to this between them.

It is all simply a matter of whose power gives out first.

“That is quite enough.”

Their power is extinguished as if it had never been there. Reality stops breaking. The two brothers are left staring dumbly at each other, but there is one more person in the air with them. An old man standing between them.

Their father is here.

~~~