IMMORTALS INFINITE PATHS

Parallel Thought

Three weeks slipped by, each day weighed down by tension as the martial battle drew closer. The Duō Clan bustled with excitement, but Duō Yī shut himself away, devoting every waking moment to cultivation.

Secluded within the quiet of his courtyard, he sat cross-legged, his clone, Yī-1, opposite him in perfect stillness. They were mirrors of each other, their meridians swelling with Qi until Duō Yī's body trembled under the strain.

Today's the day… he thought, teeth clenched as he forced the Qi through his meridians 

Then—boom!

The bottleneck shattered. Qi flooded his system like a tidal wave, surging through his veins with unrestrained vigor. His cultivation had advanced.

A sudden rush of warmth surged through his meridians, widening them, deepening the channels through which Qi coursed. the expansion was tangible, his body drinking in energy with newfound ease.

[Status Board Updated]

[Name: Duō Yī][Race: Human][Status: Damaged Soul (X)][Realm: Qi Gathering Realm (3rd Stage)][Life Span: 13/60][Abilities: HIVE][HIVE Ability: Parallel Thought (Unlocked)][Parallel Thought: Control multiple clones simultaneously][Skills: {Fundamental Elemental Fist}, {Qi Flow: Optimization Techniques}][Elemental Affinity: Null][Energy Reserve: 300/300][Current Replicas: 1/1][Current Qi: 5/1000]

Duō Yī's eyes lingered on the new line. Parallel Thought.

Until now, his clones were no more than shadows. They copied him as a reflection does a body — arms raised, the reflection raised its arms, nothing more. That limitation had always gnawed at him.

But now? Now the reflection could step out of the mirror and act on its own. While one meditated, the other could train. While one struck, the other could guard. True simultaneity.

"This changes everything."

The two left the chamber and stepped into a secluded training ground under the waning afternoon light. Grass bent beneath their feet, the air thick with anticipation.

Yī-1 moved first. Like a hunting beast, the clone exploded forward, fists blurring through the air. Duō Yī met it head-on, his body shifting into the stance of the Fundamental Elemental Fist. Qi surged into his arm as he struck, each blow crisp, precise, honed by hours of silent practice.

Fist met fist, echoing like steel clashing against steel. Yī-1's punch flew toward Duō Yī's temple—he slipped sideways, letting the momentum glide past him, then countered with a vicious strike to the ribs. The clone staggered, but instantly retaliated with a sharp kick that whistled through the air.

They danced across the training ground, predator against reflection. Each strike was met, each movement analyzed.

The first exchange was fast. Fists blurred, strikes met, Qi crackled. Each time Duō Yī slipped to the left, his footwork faltered — Yī-1 punished it mercilessly. 'So that's the flaw', he noted coldly. He adjusted, only for another imperfection to surface: his guard too tight after a kick, his recovery a fraction too slow.

Every mistake carved itself into his memory, every counter a refinement. The spar was not a clash of wills but an autopsy — him dissecting the imperfections of his own craft.

"Again!" Duō Yī barked.

Hours passed. Sweat soaked his robes, and his muscles screamed with exhaustion. He and Yī-1 clashed again and again until their Qi reserves burned dry. Yet each exchange sharpened his technique. His fists grew faster, heavier. His movements flowed smoother. The Basic Forms of the Elemental Fist that had once felt clumsy now struck with the force of an iron hammer.

At last, as night fell and the stars emerged, Duō Yī called a halt. He stood breathing heavily, body trembling, yet his heart surged with exhilaration.

Yet even as progress mounted, a problem gnawed at him.

A weapon.

Combat without one was reckless; everyone knew it. His instincts pointed him toward the staff — simple, direct, versatile. In his old life, he had only touched upon its forms, but the familiarity was enough to build on. The question was not what he would wield, but how to obtain it.

The clan's armory was locked behind the upper floors of the pagoda. No one entered without recommendation. His father? Not an option. The man would sooner dismiss him than grant access. The elders? They would not even grant him audience.

That left only his mother.

.

.

.

Duō Yī stood outside her chambers, straightening his robes before entering.

Duō Líng Méi looked up from her embroidery. The candlelight traced her features — eyes the shade of darkened amber, a softness in her lips that time had not weathered. Even the fall of her hair, black silk against pale skin, seemed too deliberate for chance. There was a beauty to her that the years could not diminish, a grace that silenced words.

"Yī'er," she said, setting her work aside. Concern shadowed her face. "You've been gone so long without visiting. My heart has been restless with worry."

Duō Yī inclined his head. "I've been preparing for the descendant battle."

Her gaze sharpened. "The battle? You intend to participate?" She leaned back, eyes narrowing. "You were born with a frail body. Such things are not changed in a handful of weeks."

Her trembling voice struck him like a knife, but he forced a calm smile. "Mother, things are not as they once were. My constitution has strengthened".

He met her look without wavering. "I've come across a training method suited to me. It strengthens my endurance." 

A silence stretched between them, her eyes searching his face. At last she exhaled softly. "If you say so. I will not stop you, but I will not indulge recklessness either."

Duō Yī gave the faintest nod. "I need a weapon. Access to the pagoda's armory requires recommendation."

Duō Líng Méi's brow furrowed, then smoothed. "So that is why you are here." She reached for her desk, retrieving a sealed letter. "Elder Lǐ oversees the armory. Take this. It will grant you audience."

He accepted it with a bow, the weight of the seal cold in his palm. "I won't let you down."

Her eyes lingered on him, softer now, though her voice remained measured. "See that you don't."

Duō Yī left her chambers with the letter tucked into his robes, his goal now narrowing with clarity. A weapon was now within reach.