Itinay stared at the shield. It lay on the floor, surrounded by eight immortals on cushions. They were all staring at it as it sat there, running their senses over the thing in fine detail. Fascination enveloped the assembled sisters, driven by the sight of this rare wonder. An encounter with an object beyond the ability of any of their number to produce.

Five Sages in all of history. A small number indeed. Their legacy, in terms of extant physical creations, was even worse than their number implied. The first sage, known to records only as Primordial Jade, practically predated history. He had unlocked the secrets of cultivation, given them to the world, and then ascended thereafter. Bits of jade, animal carvings and seals mostly, existed that were attributed to this legendary progenitor with some confidence, but they were nothing more than scraps.

The third sage, Endless Virtue, was much better documented. He had produced numerous writings, thousands of poems, and hundreds of paintings. These offered the knowledge that formed the foundation of countless techniques, rituals, and formations, but they were never imbued with power. They taught but could not be wielded, and even then, most had been consumed by flame during the Demon War.

As for their Celestial Mother Orday, the Fifth Sage, she had fused her Twelvefold Panoply through calligraphy. Some of her lettering remained, and each of the sisters carried a script from their mother inscribed with their immortal name, but all of the talismans she'd crafted for use during the war had been used as swiftly as they could be composed.

In this way, sage artifacts were limited almost entirely to the creations of the Second Sage, Forger of Treasures, and the Fourth Sage, the Sublime Mason. Both had produced many things of great power and durability. These too had been largely lost during the war. The great structures raised by the hands of the Fourth Sage had been shattered by battle, immolated in one tragic last stand after another as the sects who claimed them as headquarters fell to the demon hordes. Such fragments as the sisters had recovered formed the foundation of the Starwall.

The creations of the Second Sage were more portable, but desperate sect heads had shattered their precious heirloom treasures to keep them from demonic cultivator hands in their final moments. In all of Mother's Gift there was but one such artifact, the Eternal Brazier. This circular steel assembly burned forever with purple flame, needing neither fuel nor tending. It lit the principal shrine to Orday, forever, and its power was also utilized to anchor the formation that kept the skies above the sect permanently clear of clouds and rain.

In the catalogs of the Celestial Origin Sect only two other artifacts made by the Forger of Treasures were known to remain. The Black Helm and the Red Sword, both of which were the personal possessions of Bloody Roam. Now, unexpectedly, they had come to possess another.

Turtle's Echo was a marvelous piece of craftsmanship, something even a mortal who'd never held a hammer could tell at a glance. Its power in combat was equally, if not more, impressive. Able to turn almost any blow back against the striker, in the right hands it could provide both an impenetrable defense and devastating counterblows. An artifact of such power that it could allow an immortal to defeat an enemy a full layer, perhaps even two, above their own.

A potentially disruptive imbalance. Itinay looked upon it with great consternation.

Shields had no proper part in any art in the Nine Spheres Arsenal. Cultivator combat, at least as envisioned by Orday and every other master Itinay had ever met, prioritized maneuverability and speed over defense. Considering the power of the attacks immortals could unleash, almost any attempt to block them would inevitably fail, at least partially, and partial exposure was usually still sufficient to kill. Only the axe and mace spheres were at all compatible without relearning everything.

Ajuday, Aorkay, and Eculay. Three sisters who might wield the shield. Ostensibly, Ajuday, being the most senior of the group, had the priority claim, though it was only barely stronger than Aorkay's. The fourth and fifth sisters, respectively, they sat on their cushions and stared at the shield intently. Periodically, they exchanged troubled glances.

No one seemed inclined to speak first.

They could not, Itinay knew, simply lock the artifact up in the armory. It was too powerful, too useful. With the Turtle's Echo on her arm, Ajuday could anchor whole battle plans. Itinay could, already, think of several possibilities. Despite that, she recognized that several of her sisters might prefer such a weak compromise over forcing a choice on the council. They would defer the use of the shield, claim it was a prize for an immortal to come, even though any immortal who arose from within the Celestial Origin Sect would be no more suited to a shield than those currently present.

Nor could they gift it to anyone weaker. Even if a suitable elder in the soul forging realm existed, they lacked the power to properly control such an immensely potent artifact.

Best, she decided, to resolve the problem now. Realizing this, she found her voice. "I hesitate to speak for Eculay, as she is not present, but as she is a formation specialist who coordinates her battles using her orb." That many-colored sphere was an artifact of considerable power itself, among the mightiest ever made in Mother's Gift. "She would not desire this shield, as it would force her to discard her primary tool." Presumptive though this statement might be, it was surely true. The shield demanded a frontline role, a position anathema to one of Eculay's carefully restrained and deeply measured personality.

A silent chorus of agreement answered this. It did not qualify, exactly, as a supportive response, but it would suffice. Itinay next turned her attention to Aorkay, her sister in pale green and gold, a flower about to bloom. As the mistress of the cooking pavilion, she was a chef. Her mastery of the axe had emerged as an extension of her constant use of the cleaver. Precise, even delicate, in combat style, the brutal push of block and counter suited her ill. "Sister, do you want this shield?"

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Put on the spot by this bold inquiry, Aorkay chose to answer using one word alone. "No."

Baleful looks were directed at Itinay for this. The temerity of the youngest to upstage them all. She ignored them. Better to suffer the wordless lash earned through impertinence now than allow discord to linger and fester. Her attention shifted to the pale, slightly purplish face of Ajuday. "Then it falls to you, sister, if you are willing to shoulder this burden."

A quiet carpenter with a love of wood and forest, Ajuday was perhaps the most unassuming of the twelve. This was made evident through her loose mop of hair, worn short and without adornment. This focus reached past the surface and down into the internal depths. She, Itinay was certain, understood the needs of the moment even as she hesitated to speak.

"If it is to be my burden, then I will bear it." Ajuday sighed audibly. "I worry that this is a trap," she added. Fury washed out from her, directed not at any person, but at the marvelous artifact itself. "Intended to divide us."

Everyone glared at the shield again. A poison pill? Itinay considered this, but not for long. She turned to Artemay instead, knowing it would be best if the answer emerged from the mouth of the direct witness. "Sister, if you had not been protected by Qing Liao's blood, could you have defeated Rust Reaper while under a masking formation?"

"No," that lone word rang out heavily inside the little chamber, but it was not the totality of Artemay's expression. "Even the blood cloak, useful as it was, would not have been enough, had Qing Liao not contrived to make Rust Reaper hesitate."

Itinay thought this declaration gave the young initiate, valiant though he certainly had proven to be, entirely too much credit. Regardless, the overall point remained clear. "I believe," she told the others with as much deference as she could infuse into the words. "That Bloody Roam provided Rust Reaper with the Turtle's Echo to prevent precisely the sort of assassination attempt we conducted."

Sour expressions spread across eight faces. At length it was Neay who chose to voice the thought that consumed them all. "Bloody Roam knows we are here then, or at least strongly suspects. Rust Reaper was his plant, a scout designated to watch, ready to inform him to join an attack when the next horde forms. Otherwise, he would not have taken such measures to ensure survival."

Scoria Scorn, it would seem, had done them a favor. Exactly why, or if that was even her intent, remained impossible to discover. Doubtless no one had expected this outcome. Itinay stared at Artemay, blue eyes meeting blue-white, and privately acknowledged that her sister's projection had been proven correct. The enemy's patience had evaporated, and they had grown desperate. The long cycle of hordes had come to an end.

"The current outcome benefits us," Neay continued. She sounded calm, but her body was tense. "Snow Feast will surely seek to claim our surroundings as his own, now. If he leads the next attack, no matter whom he brings in aid, we can defeat it."

"A temporary reprieve," Artemay whispered. "Once Snow Feast falls, Bloody Roam will follow on the next horde, as inevitable as the tide, and he will bring overwhelming force. Sisters, we have purchased a few centuries, but that is not enough."

It was not. They all knew it. They might, if lucky, add one new immortal to their ranks in that time, and the shield itself was a significant boon, but even if they expanded the sect to as many as fifteen hundred cultivators, they could not produce enough potent elders to make up the difference. Itinay calculated that they could increase the maximum number of foes they might defeat, but not by enough to surpass what the enemy could bring.

Such determinations left her grim. She barely paid attention to the following exchange as she sought to find a way out of the puzzle. Neay offered estimates of times, but it made little difference, planning for three centuries as opposed to five. Soon all joined in a renewed round of silent speculation.

Unexpectedly, and causing seven heads to turn, it was Iay who broke the silence. "Another demon horde is not inevitable." She spoke these words quite calmly and added nothing further at all.

Seven immortals worked with all the swiftness their enhanced minds could muster to unpack the truth embedded in those cryptic words.

Itinay, as was her wont, switched quickly from consideration of portents to analysis of patterns. A demon horde was an aggregation drawn to sources of qi; a process induced by the filtering capacity of the plague to instinctively direct its minions along channels created in the greater patterns of energy encompassing the entire world. Those patterns, the triggering capability behind the formation of such a force, followed equations, determinations of qi flow that could be modeled mathematically, overlaid upon the map through geometry.

Blessed with an immortal's mind and lengthy experience, it did not take long to assemble the relevant numbers, offer potential variables, and estimate a broad space of possibility. A probable conclusion, one that offered the potential for salvation, sprang to her lips and burst free without her usual calm. "If the number of demons in proximity of the gateway is consistently kept below a critical threshold, a horde might never form."

Skeptical eyes turned to her, but they, just as much as she, sought to grasp this hope. "That must be studied, carefully," Neay announced. "How it could be done, what resources might be utilized. We cannot rely solely upon Qing Liao, repeatedly. However capable he might be or might become; one individual is too thin a reed to depend upon"

"There are surely other options," Artemay, audaciously, smiled in the middle of the council. "This little jaunt outside let me get a good look. Once again, we are surrounded by thick forest. If we must, we could set half the continent ablaze. That would block at least one horde."

It was a useful idea, if not without downsides, and a testament to the power of wide-ranging speculation. Rather than consider the flurry of ideas that almost immediately began to take shape in her mind's eye, Itinay forced her focus to remain upon her sisters. For now, patience mattered more than any plan. Patience, and a voice in the overall scheme. Delay was not a strategy; it was merely an element of one. They required a complete approach.

"I have read the reports from the scouts. There is a clear trend, the number of demons falls." She looked toward Artemay without turning her head. "Do you agree, sister?"

Artemay signaled agreement through a quick nod and toothy grin. "A pleasant development," she mused.

"We should go further," Itinay made her voice ice. "We should seek means to eliminate the demons entirely. Without a need to reckon with hordes, we could orient our defenses exclusively against immortal demonic cultivators. Even Bloody Roam might quail before such formations."

No one denied this, though several pairs of eyes widened in surprise. Changes in formations, structures, and tactics were possible. They all knew it. Most had proposed at least some such alterations over the centuries. A seemingly impossible goal, once inconceivable, began to worm its way into immortal minds.

"It seems we have many plans to make," Neay calmly brought the meeting to its end without any official announcement. "We can consider them in the future."

Itinay glowed softly. She had not even needed to call a vote, and her agenda had acquired the primary devotion of effort for the entire sect. Finally.

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