“Elder Han, Shadow, please go on ahead,” A small smile continued to rest on Yao Shen’s face as he withdrew a small, circular violet-blue token that was covered in a complex web of inscriptions, holding it out in Shadow’s direction.

Shadow pocketed the token with a practiced ease, but did not immediately leave. Her gaze narrowed upon Zhou Hui with a scorching focus, memorizing every aspect, every detail of his visage before she turned her gaze to Yao Shen.

They made eye contact, and Shadow lightly nodded to him before she began walking forward, Elder Han falling in step besides her. They walked past Zhou Hui without any interruption, for the Hui Family Patriarch’s attention had never left Yao Shen from the moment they had stepped into the inner sect premises.

Yao Shen split a insignificant part of his divine sense to trail Shadow and make sure she reached his chambers without interruptions, though now that he was within the Inner Sect Territory he had little cause to fear for her safety. The optimal period and positioning for an ambush had already passed.

“Old friend,” Yao Shen finally decided to take the initiative, his tone warm and cheerful as he locked eyes with the Hui Family Patriarch. His divine sense spread out at the same time, before focusing on Zhou Hui’s solitary figure. Beneath his azure robes, that were emblazoned with not one, but two insignia’s— one belonging to the Heavenly Sky Sect, stitched with the threads extracted from a golden silkworm, and the other stitched with silvery-white threads that bore the mark of the Hui Family, he concealed a full set of light armor that Yao Shen immediately identified at the Peak Nascent Soul level. But that was only the beginning of his wealth, for Yao Shen immediately detected three rings worn on each hand, each one emanating an ancient aura barring the last, which was a spatial ring.

A sheathed sword rested at his waist, but his hands remained clasped behind his back as he silently observed Yao Shen.

“Sentience,” Zhou Hui finally spoke, uttering naught but one word— his tone, even now that Yao Shen had far surpassed him, radiating confidence and aplomb. “You wield the power of the Esoteric, that which cannot be sought after, only understood,” he continued, for it was not a question but a statement.

“Indeed,” Yao Shen nodded lightly, not surprised that the Hui Family managed to trace the origins of his Major Dao in such a short period of time.

“The wind around you stills in abeyance, waiting for your command. You have reached Major Understanding in the Dao of the Wind,” Zhou Hui continued, exposing one of the three elements Yao Shen had chosen to receive heavenly assistance in improving without batting an eye.

“Perceptive,” Yao Shen smiled even wider, but inwardly it served as a reminder. Zhao Hui may not command the elements like his ancestors were once able to, but he had made up for his shortcomings with intelligence and resourcefulness. Even now, he was a worthy rival.

“Very well, then. Humor me, Yao Shen,” Zhou Hui’s words echoed out in the wind as he slowly unsheathed his ancestral blade, Skyraiser. The translucent green blade thrummed with power, and the moment it was fully released a strong gale of wind blew outwards in all directions. An illusory, blurred figure of a reptilian creature with four wings manifested behind him, as Zhou Hui tightly clenched his teeth and wrestled with control over the artifact spirit. A Pseudo Soul Emperor blade was not something a Nascent Soul Cultivator could use for long, but it would cause no lasting harm.

Yao Shen materialized a generic early stage Nascent Soul blade from his spatial ring, curiously staring at the artifact spirit that had materialized behind Zhou Hui. Yao Shen had long memorized the contents of every bestiary the Sect had access to, and the four winged creature matched none of the entries.

“Domain of Endless Blades,” Zhou Hui muttered the words aloud for Yao Shen’s benefit, since this was the equivalent of a ‘friendly duel’ in the world of cultivators. The next second Yao Shen felt himself lose control over the wind that surrounded him, snatched away from him to form a sphere of wind that encapsulated him.

Zhou Hui had imposed his will over the natural law of the world, marking it as his territory. Within his domain Yao Shen was a foriegn entity that would be heavily suppressed, the laws of the wind refuting his control. Zhou Hui raised his sword and slashed in his direction, releasing his wind attuned Qi. A hair-raisingly sharp wind blade empowered by the Skyraiser exploded with momentum, and Zhou Hui’s domain mirrored his actions— dozens upon dozens of wind blades were released from the interior of the wind sphere’s membrane, from widely unpredictable angles.

Yao Shen’s Divine Sense exploded outwards, forming a zone of absolute perception within Zhou Hui’s domain, completely disregarding the suppression. Each blade’s trajectory was already visualized in his mind as he evaded the wind blades with frenzied, erratic movement. Those that were clustered to comfort, he contested control over—Zhou Hui no longer had any advantage over him since they both shared a Major understanding over wind, and he was at a higher level of existence. Without much suspense, he tore away control from Zhou Hai and dissipated the wind blades into a harmless gust of wind.

Zhou Hui had undoubtedly known that his attack would fail, but it had always been a distraction from the very beginning. The few moments Yao Shen required to evade his attacks, he used to close the distance between the two. The illusory beast behind Zhou Hui roared, and the green glow within intensified. Wind coiled and sharped around the blade until it was almost a physical object, the very physical manifestation of ‘sharpness’.

“Human Dao Domain: A Slice of Heaven,” Yao Shen smiled, and the landscape around him began to change— A dazzling golden wheat field now stood in place of the ruthless wind sphere, rays of sunlight tearing past the clouds that had not been there a few seconds ago and landing upon the fields. Transparent silhouettes of faceless farmers dressed in grey clothing manifested around Yao Shen, manually harvesting the wheat by hand— they were not cultivators, but mere mortals. At the edge of the wheat field, a small, dainty wooden house rested, adding to the scenic, natural beauty of the rustic landscape.

Yao Shen had not needed to break Zhou Hui’s domain since he had abandoned it of his own volition the moment his attack failed. Zhou Hui had been testing him since their duel began, probing his abilities and forcing him to display novel methods— trying to decipher the unknown was his nature, and Yao Shen did not hold that against him.

But if that were the case, he would present Zhou Hui with a test of his own. Yao Shen no longer restricted his own senses, and the world exploded in color. He peered upon the inner sect, but only detected roiling clouds of vapor-like energy, painted in as many hues as there were emotions— red, yellow, white, orange, indigo, violet, gray, everything that came in between, and then more. Yao Shen willed, and a small portion of the chaotic energies were funneled in his direction. He carefully absorbed the energies, replenishing his dwindling Human Dao reserves— not out of scarcity, for where there were sentient beings there were traces of Human Dao, but out of self-preservation. Once the energy entered his Soul Lake, it turned into a transient, milky white energy that peacefully rested at one end of the Soul Lake.

Yao Shen drew upon it, focusing on the concept of “Protect” as the core concept and the ancillary concepts of the human senses, “Sight”, “Sound”,”Smell” and “Touch”. The next instant he was shrouded in a layer of Human Dao, unworried for his own safety since he was invulnerable in this state— at least against a Nascent Soul Practitioner.

The world faded away as Yao Shen recalled decades old memories, back when he was only a normal elder of the Heavenly Sky Sect. A young Shadow clinged to his robes, digging her head into them each time an inner disciple drew near. He remembered the first time he’d brought her to the Skytree, recalling the expression of childlike glee that was reflected on her face when she gazed upon the ancient tree— letting her forget about the childhood that was robbed from her, if only for an instant.

And he remembered the desire he held in his heart, the desire to protect that innocent smile. He could die. The sect could be torn asunder, ripped to shreds. But Shadow…. Shadow could not die. She was not allowed to die, not before him, and preferably not after him.

“Protect,” Yao Shen muttered aloud.

Zhou Hui felt the wind upon his back, aiding his cause by propelling him with speed that was at the very limits of his endurance. He felt Yao Shen’s odd Domain manifest around him, but the disciples that had reported to him had claimed that it had no offensive ability. He knew better than to rely upon the claims of disciples, but all the records of the Human Dao he had studied in the brief time he had before Yao Shen arrived indicated that it was the weakest Esoteric Dao, by far, and had no means of attack, so he was inclined to give some credence to their claims. The fact that Yao Shen’s Human Domain had no oppression only added to this theory, unless he was being intentionally misled.

He knew that this was his last chance at gathering information, for he was waging two wars at the same time: one, against the rebellious artifact spirit that kept trying to refute his control, and the other against an opponent that he no longer understood. Zhou Hui could accept that he was no longer Yao Shen’s match, but what he refused to accept was the massive, gaping hole in his intelligence that had led to this outcome, and he would do his utmost to rectify that.

So he channeled his wind attuned Qi into the artifact left by his ancestors, which Skyraiser further amplified— almost doubling the strength of the attack in potency. Zhou Hui had reached within striking distance of Yao Shen, and was on the verge of lashing out with the most powerful attack of his life when the unthinkable happened.

Yao Shen…. was gone. In his place stood his son, Wen Hui, who looked back at him with a blank expression on his face. Zhou Hui was a perceptive man, and the realization was almost instantaneous— this had to be one of Yao Shen’s abilities. Zhao Hui had cultivated for almost the same time as Yao Shen and had experienced many illusory daos and techniques first hand.

But the person that stood in front of him— all his senses, the senses of a father over the Patriarch of the Hui Family, told him that it was undoubtedly his son that stood in front of him. A desire to protect him welled up from the deepest corners of his heart, a suggestion more than a compulsion….

Zhou Hui knew that it was a trick, a ploy, and if this were a real battle he would die if he did not swing his blade….

He knew…. He knew and yet…

His Qi dissipated and the blade reverted to an inert state, mere inches away from his ‘son’s’ neck.

The next second, the illusion shattered and Yao Shen stood in front of him, the tip of his blade held against Zhou Hui’s throat.

“A test for a test, old friend,” Yao Shen had a wide grin on his face, but there was neither pride nor condescension on his face but instead…. Approval?

“A test?” Zhou Hui asked, as a wave of shame and revulsion washed over him. Skyraiser was sheathed in a flash of motion, but Zhou Hui himself clenched his fists as he reflected upon his loss. He had known it was an illusion, a paltry damned trick from the beginning. His scouts were not wrong, Human Dao truly did not have any offensive methods, only illusions and deception.

“I failed,” Zhou Hui gritted his teeth and accepted his loss with the dignity of his Patriarch, swearing that he would never allow himself to show such weakness again.

“Failed?” Yao Shen questioned, and then burst out into a light laugh. Zhou Hui felt his temper flare, he had already been defeated but to tarnish his honor like this…. Until he tilted his gaze upward and saw Yao Shen’s look of admiration. He…. was starting to think that Yao Shen and he himself were operating on entirely different metrics.

“You are not as ruthless as you believe yourself to be, Brother Hui. That is why you succeeded,” Yao Shen conspiratorily leaned closer to his ear, before lightly whispering, “Send Wen Hui along with your best artificers to the tower, and I promise to help forge the best protective artifact that I can.”

Yao Shen then encouragingly patted Zhou Hui twice on the shoulder before walking away and breaking into another laugh.

His old rival was calculating, and could be ruthless when the situation demanded it— but Yao Shen was glad to know that he was not entirely lost, that Eliria’s jaws had not completely sunk into his throat and corrupted him.

Zhou Hui, meanwhile, just remained rooted on the spot— his facial expressions constantly shifting, no longer reflecting the dignity or poise of the Hui Family Patriarch.

'Was that….. Was that really Yao Shen, his sworn rival?'

The world had truly gone mad.