“Are you sure you want to continue?” He Yin said. “Why don’t you take a rest?”
“Body cultivators don’t need rest,” Cha Ming said, focusing on the tiny cauldron of bubbling red metal. Well, not pure metal. Within the strange blend of several metals was the refined essence of the crystal dragon grass he’d discovered in the vault. In front of it lay a sheet of a golden material that didn’t melt so much as spontaneously combust once it got hot enough. He’d already cut a runic pattern into it with his spiritual carving knife.
After looking at the metal plate again, which was connected to ten different energy drain points that ran to an energy sink through devices that measured energy output, he took out his knife again.
“These lines aren’t deep enough,” Cha Ming muttered, cutting deeper into the soft golden metal. He then slashed the metal at other key points, cutting different runes that complemented his original design.
“That’s a lot of extra runic lines,” He Yin said. “Are you sure they’re useful?” For an alchemist, he had a surprising grasp over runic arts. He wasn’t a grandmaster, but he had a basic working understanding.
“Let’s give it a try,” Cha Ming said, cheerfully grasping the small golden cauldron containing the bubbling red mixture. He poured it into the grooves on the plate, letting the red concoction seep into every crack and solidify almost instantly. He didn’t spread it evenly, but in a way that the resulting red lines would be flush with the golden plate.
“Now, for the moment of truth,” He Yin said, rubbing his hands. “If we succeed, we’ll have created a solid-state energy generator.”
“A single-use solid-state energy generator,” Cha Ming noted. “With a limited lifespan.” He held his hand out. “Would you like to do the honors?”
“Would I?” He Yin said, his eyes twinkling. Seeing Cha Ming’s nod, the man poured a concentrated wisp of core qi into a formation in the center of the plate. As the energy poured in, the red runic pattern began to blaze with energy. The initial qi was a spark, and the red pattern was like a pilot light. Through it, the rest of the fuel would burn.
As the plate heated, Cha Ming and He Yin hid behind a blast shield where they could continue observing safely. The red runes heated up until they reached the temperature dictated by the runic pattern. Then, little by little, a number on a small display beside them began to show ten energy readings, one for each of the outputs on the plate.
“I would never have thought you could use a solid to catalyze a reaction with another solid like that,” He Yin said as they watched the rapidly climbing number. The power output was in cultivation equivalents. It had already passed initial core formation and was climbing steadily to early core formation.
“It’s not about having them react together but having a pathway for energy transfer,” Cha Ming said. “Just like any good weapon doesn’t have qi directly react with the weapon, this power source uses the heat from the crystal dragon grass to drive the steady spontaneous combustion of the material beside it. The combustion is regulated by the heat output and the contact area dictated by the runic network. As the sacrificial metal shrinks, the formation will act accordingly.”
They waited for a few more seconds before, finally, the power output reached peak-core grade. It struggled there for some time before finally reaching half-step-rune-carving intensity. The golden metal bars were glowing bright white behind the blast shield. The reading struggled there for around thirty seconds before finally dropping down. Then, the glow faded, revealing only ashen remnants of the golden plate.
“We did it,” He Yin whispered. “Finally we did it. A half-step-core-formation power source.”
“Only for thirty seconds,” Cha Ming said, shaking his head. “We’ll need longer-lasting sources, and a much larger quantity, not to mention a corresponding accumulation and intensifying diagram.”
He Yin blinked in silence.
“What I mean is that we have a long way to go, and no time to rest.”
“I’ll go report the results to Tian Zhi,” He Yin said, nodding.
“And I’ll make another trip to the vault,” Cha Ming said. “This experience has given me a few more ideas to think about.”
Cha Ming remained deep in thought as he made his way to the vault. He’d been there so many times by now that he barely had to think at all as he made his way through winding corridors and security checks. He nodded politely to the secretary at the entrance and paused before the quartermaster’s door. The older man waved him through casually. Though he probably should have accompanied him, just as he’d done almost religiously for the first three weeks he was allowed access, Cha Ming’s seamless paperwork and his return of unused materials had caused that initial mistrust to fade.
The power source is more or less complete, he thought, sticking his arm into the lock contraption. It assessed his access mark and opened, allowing him inside the fortified structure. Now all that’s left is the distribution network and the primary weapon heads.
The Breaker, in the end, resembled a thick spear. Its tip could pierce a good way into the wall, by virtue of its materials and construction. That part was easy. What really did the damage, however, was the vast number of smaller spearheads that sprung out at angles with intense piercing force. They needed to do this with minimal distance for acceleration, a difficult task even for Cha Ming.
Sometimes he wondered if he should be worried about what he was teaching them. Then again, it would only take a few years for them to regain the knowledge he’d imparted to them. Instead, he’d decided to railroad the entire project down a specific pathway. At the end of the path was a sure way to achieve the mission’s goals. The trick was designing the thing so it would perform a very different purpose by the time it was assembled yet have all the pieces function normally, leading up to the product prior to final assembly.
As for reverse engineering it, he was even less concerned. Step by step, he’d made the project increasingly reliant on himself. The power source was a prime example. No one else would know how much strain it placed even on his transcendent soul to stabilize the crystal dragon grass compound. Since this was a confidential research and development project, only Tian Zhi at most would try to replicate it. He was unlikely to succeed for all but the simplest of portions.
Now for the spearheads, Cha Ming thought. He walked around the vault, examining several shelves of metals he could potentially alloy. He looked over metal after metal, figuring out their potential hardness as well as their resistance to heat. They would need to take a tremendous amount of energy over a short period of time, so heat resistance was paramount. As for hardness, he’d determined some time ago that even transcendent-grade walls were built more with toughness and regeneration in mind as opposed to hardness. With hard enough starting materials, it was possible to pierce through the transcendent wall. It was only a matter of how far the projectile would go before either stopping or breaking.
As Cha Ming picked up piece after piece of metal, he simultaneously probed at several formations he’d discreetly placed in the vault. He first checked the one monitoring the quartermaster. As usual, he was keeping a careful but relaxed eye on Cha Ming through his monitors on the other end. After confirming this, Cha Ming probed the various formation eyes for his concealment formation. Still intact.
The third and most important check was on something he’d been monitoring since he’d arrived: the Gold Source Marrow. It was still there, and unsurprisingly, no one had checked on it. It still glowed in its transparent case, its power clear for anyone to see. He’d wanted to take it earlier just in case, but the risk had been too great.
Now, however, things were different. Zhou Li had moved up the deadline yet again, and it was likely that he would do so once more. Cha Ming couldn’t wait around any longer. So, using his transcendent force and peak-core qi, he activated the concealing formation he’d taken great care to set, one piece at a time, inside the vault. He then took out something from the Clear Sky World—
a golden orb, shining brightly with the power of gold, containing a shimmering liquid in the center. It was an imitation, crafted from the very rare and very expensive crystalized gold essence he’d retrieved from the Shattered Lands.
Cha Ming could barely contain his excitement as he opened the transparent case. He reached out for the Gold Essence Core and grabbed it, allowing its primal energies to course through his fingers and rampage through their sensitive flesh. He took it into his Clear Sky World and placed the replacement onto the pedestal.
Then he went back to where the concealment formation had him currently rummaging, superimposed himself, and banished the formation. He picked up a jade-colored metal and grinned. “This should do nicely.”
Five minutes later, Cha Ming trotted out from the vault. He walked over to the quartermaster’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Wang Bo said.
Cha Ming entered the room and saw the man hunched over and brooding.
“Is something bothering you?” Cha Ming asked, placing a sheet of paper listing what he’d taken from the vault. He then placed a ring on the desk containing some materials he hadn’t needed in the end.
“There’s always something bothering me,” Wang Bo said gruffly. He took the ring and scanned it. He nodded and placed it on a shelf beside him containing other inbound items. “Not everyone is like you, taking only what they need and bringing back what they don’t. We’ve run another deficit this month, unfortunately, and I think a lot of it has to do with senior managers taking liberties.”
“Can’t you just suspend their vault access?” Cha Ming asked.
“They don’t even enter the vault,” Wang Bo said. “It’s all over and above board. They justify their expenses, and their superiors approve them. Everyone’s so worried about Grand Vizier Zhou’s inspection these days, so these managers are fishing in troubled waters. I’m sure they’ll think up some reason or another they needed funds, and how they managed to squander them, lining their pockets in the process.”
“Don’t they have contracts in place?” Cha Ming asked, surprised. He recalled his own contract, which was rather strict with regard to embezzlement.
“There are loopholes everywhere, if you know where to look for them,” Wang Bo said, raising his hands up in the air. “But who am I to complain? I’m just a lowly quartermaster. I just guard this vault with my life, and the rest is beyond my pay grade.”
“It’ll all work out in the end,” Cha Ming said. He felt a pang of guilt, given that he’d just done exactly what the man was complaining about. He’d done it using an artifact Wang Jun had given him to hide his contractual obligations. He felt even worse for what he would do just before he left. Traitor to the North or not, Wang Bo had come to the South out of loyalty for his family. He was just doing the best he could for those he cared for.
“I sure hope it does,” Wang Bo said. “Regardless, I’ll be relieved when this pet project of the vizier’s is over and done with. Management will finally get some time to pay attention to the bottom line, and we’ll get to coast again for a while.”
“I’ll work hard to make it happen,” Cha Ming said.
Wang Bo nodded and looked back down at his documents, leaving Cha Ming to see himself out. As he walked through the vault’s corridor, he heard a soft hum.
A message? he thought. He scanned the orb Prince Shen had left him.
Can you come to the Trueblood Tavern to meet me? Prince Shen had sent. There was no context to the message, no additional details to go by.
Cha Ming didn’t think twice before replying. I’ll be there in an hour.
Did you use the item? Prince Shen sent back. He was, of course, referring to the second item he’d given Cha Ming, the Royal Seal of Notwithstanding. The item, a contract override seal, was a rarity even for the Ji royal family. It was a one-time use item that would allow a cultivator to override any Spirit Temple contract without dissolving it. These seals were an important component of the peace agreement between the Spirit Temple and the Ji Kingdom, for it allowed the crown to keep its advantage in any and all contractual negotiations.
I did, Cha Ming answered. He hadn’t, but what Wang Jun had given him had worked just as well. He hadn’t wanted to waste the dissolution seal so readily, as the ability to ignore almost any Southern contract, even if only once, was invaluable.
Good, Prince Shen replied. Meet me at the Trueblood Tavern. Alone.
See you then, Cha Ming replied. He’d thought he’d need to work his way into the prince’s good favor. Now, it seemed it was quite the opposite. Though he itched to use the Gold Source Marrow to break through immediately, that could wait until he heard what the prince had to say. Zhou Li was coming, and no one wanted to be caught unprepared.
The crown prince was no exception.
The Trueblood Tavern was a rowdy place. The customers here, mostly foundation-establishment cultivators, gambled, drank, and fought away their hard-earned spirit stones as attractive ladies and men served them drinks, putting in not-so-subtle efforts to sell their other services. Men and women from all corners of the city drank here. It was a clear sign that, regardless of station, you weren’t special in this establishment, and you’d better not cause any trouble.
Not too much trouble, at least. As Cha Ming entered, a brawl erupted at the back of the main room. Blood sprinkled through the air as an arm flew up and landed amongst the cheering crowds of spectators. A few strong men in white, bloodstained shirts watched as two bloodied men fought in the middle of a ring of patrons. They constantly looked at the clock, counting away the minutes before they were forced to intervene.
They didn’t, in the end. One of the fighters, too maimed to continue, was left an inch away from death. He was dragged away by his companions, leaving a bitter man who clearly wanted to land the finishing blow.
Cha Ming, hidden beneath a black cloak, pushed through the crowd. No maids or attendants came to ask him if he needed help getting a seat. Instead, he proceeded to the private rooms at the back, where he’d already detected the man he was going to meet. The door slid open as he approached, revealing the usually well-dressed man covered from head to toe in black robes and a black cloak. Cha Ming stepped in and closed the door behind him.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Prince Shen said, taking down the hood of his cloak. “I realize it’s trying on your loyalties to come meet me. And let me be clear up front about this. I am about to ask you to work against your current employer, the Blackthorn Conglomerate.”
This was a test, of course. If Cha Ming hadn’t used the seal, as part of the “Protection of Client Interests” clause of his contract, he would be forced to immediately leave or face the consequences of his contract.
Cha Ming sat down calmly, his contract well insulated by the shadows surrounding it. He accepted a cup of wine and took a drink—a sign of trust and acceptance of the man’s superiority. “If my priorities are between the Ji Kingdom—my birthplace—and the Blackthorn Conglomerate—my employer—I will, of course, choose the former, assuming the damage I cause isn’t too great.”
“It seems I didn’t misjudge you,” Prince Shen said, lifting his glass in a toast. “You’re a patriot, but you’re also a man who values all his relationships. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for the trouble.”
Cha Ming smiled and didn’t reject the man. They both knew how this game of self-interest and feigned loyalty was played. “What might you be needing this lowly one for?” Cha Ming asked.
“Far from lowly,” Prince Shen said. “From what I’ve been told by Director Yong, you’re effectively the linchpin and mastermind of the Breaker Project. The project can’t be finished on time without you, and you know every bit of the project as well as the back of your hand, all this despite your lack of knowledge in alchemy and general formation arts.”
“I’ve more than dabbled in many things I find interesting,” Cha Ming said. “But yes, you’re right. I am currently the best
informed. You might also want to know that, in secret, I’m also skilled enough to replicate the entire project, alchemical portions and all.”
The crown prince’s glass paused midway to his mouth. He looked at Cha Ming intensely and lowered the glass to the table, then put both his hands together. “So you’re telling me that, should someone with priority over your contract wish for you to replicate the full Breaker prototype, you could do so? Unaided?”
“Yes,” Cha Ming answered simply. This way, he could keep the prince dependent on him and keep the others out of his scheme.
“That definitely changes things,” the prince said, tapping his fingers on the desk. “We’d thought we’d need to requisition your entire crew, but if it’s just you, then we need not introduce potential weak points in our plan.”
“And what, might I ask, is your plan?” Cha Ming said. “Clearly it’s not taking over the project, as you could have already used your royal authority to do that.”
“Taking over the project would demoralize the Blackthorn Conglomerate,” Prince Shen said. “Plus, they have the backing of the Spirit Temple, so without enough reason, I can’t take them over. Their work is important, however. My royal father and I are both responsible for the project, despite our lack of control. If anything should go wrong or should the Blackthorn Conglomerate grow too greedy and try to extort us, we’d have little recourse but to accept. Even at the end of the project, they will be the ones in sole possession of the blueprints and prototype for the Breaker. The knowledge will be in their hands and their hands only, despite our duty to oversee the project. I’m sure you can see how this puts us at a disadvantage.”
“Then do you want me to leave the Blackthorn Conglomerate and join you?” Cha Ming asked.
“Seven hells, no,” Prince Shen said. At the mention of hells, Cha Ming took note of the faint yellow aura surrounding him. Sinful, but not overly so. “I want you to remain where you are and not reveal your external loyalties. The timeline is more important than anything else. If you should have time, however, I wish for you to record both the construction method and blueprints pertaining to Project Breaker. I also want you to build me a prototype.”
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 37