Wang Jun ignored Elder Bai, who’d just walked into the room, and jumped straight into the shadow. It whizzed across the city, teleporting him almost instantly to a place of desolation and ruin. Splintered wood was everywhere, and charred and frozen corpses littered the streets. Despite the carnage, he saw no signs of Hong Xin, no signs of the abductors. He did, however, see the body of Mistress Huang. It was pierced by three bloody holes; the weapons had been removed by guards on the scene.
Wang Jun reached out for threads of karma—surely such a massacre had caused enough of a stir for him to find the perpetrators—but discovered a blurry force keeping the threads away from him. They were frayed, blowing in the wind, unreachable by mere mortals.
Wang Jun’s eyes narrowed. “A transcendent?” he whispered. “Why the hell would a transcendent attack Hong Xin?”
Uncertain, the shadow said. I was out surveilling other targets. I sensed a disturbance. I came, but she was gone.
“Damn it,” Wang Jun said, his face contorted, his lips pulled back into a snarl. “Damn it all.”
Such a thing wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d seen the writing on the wall, of course. The mysterious killer had been targeting the Icy Heart Pavilion’s executive so fiercely, and it was only a matter of time until Hong Xin was forced to leave. He’d planned to welcome her with open arms, working with her to save his family. Perhaps, with luck, they’d live happily ever after. He could take her back to her parents and resolve one of his greatest regrets.
Now, that seemed impossible. Against all odds, a transcendent had acted, despite the backlash from the plane’s will. He had a pretty good idea of who had done it—the Spirit Temple. Evil spirits always bore a grudge, and capturing someone alive to exact vengeance was exactly the kind of thing they would do.
But they don’t have transcendents, Wang Jun thought. Was it their Shepherd? Do they have means I don’t understand?
“Shadow,” Wang Jun said.
Master, it answered.
“Scour the Spirit Temple,” he instructed. “Monitor them with everything you have. Every communication, every going or leaving. I want reports, and I want her found.”
It is difficult to evade their mediums, the shadow said.
Is it difficult or impossible? Wang Jun asked.
The shadow hesitated, then answered. Difficult. I will have to cease all other activities.
“Do it,” Wang Jun said. “I need her found. Don’t come back until you find her, or until I call you again.”
Affirmative, the shadow said. It jumped into the shade of a half-destroyed building and merged with it. All around Wang Jun, soldiers and patrols were rushing in, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. Healers came and tended to the wounded and dying. Others collected the dead. They passed by Wang Jun, who stood there in silence, unseen, guilt gnawing away at his heart.
Chapter 34: Full Circle
This is it, Cha Ming thought, pressing his finger to a rune. He stepped back and waited for a transparent shield to appear between the test object and their research group. Today, they were testing a smaller prototype. A small wall—Pan Su’s best wall to date—was directly in the line of fire of a single spear. The spear was mounted in the device he’d just activated, a much smaller launcher than the Breaker’s—which could accommodate hundreds of similar spears and deliver them in a single payload.
This miniature device also contained prototype components. The spears inside it were just like the final product would be. Inside, there were thousands of ball bearings arranged in a precise order. If successful, he would scale up the result to the real Breaker prototype. He wasn’t sure if it would work, though initial trials and Shao Qiang’s divinations had indicated it was promising.
The small device accumulated power. The power core, which Cha Ming and He Yin had crafted together using the best of their abilities, began to react uncontrollably, feeding power into a storage device that would only last a single launch. This accumulation continued for three long seconds before finally, the spear launched at the wall at a speed that not even a transcendent could avoid.
The main spear pierced the wall with earth-shaking momentum. Large fissures appeared as the spear tip plunged into the concrete. As a result of the sudden loss in momentum, the spear’s shaft pressed up against the spear’s tip. Together, they compressed a tiny ball of reactive chemicals barely stable enough to launch without worry but unstable enough to detonate mere fractions of a second after impact.
The spearhead exploded in a symphony of molten shrapnel. The ball bearings, which had been carefully packed in a precise pattern, flew outward in a not-so-random fashion. They pressed up against the shattered concrete, etching runic lines upon its surface, causing the wall to weaken. The other ball bearings, not needed for the effect, crashed into the wall and caused massive damage that expanded several feet from the point of impact.
One spear. One launch. Devastation. A half-step-transcendent wall, the best product Southern geomancers could manufacture, was reduced to rubble. The test section had measured twenty feet in each direction. Now, a large portion of it was missing. The point of impact had caused the frontmost three feet of the wall to completely crumble. Beyond that, a long lance of destruction had completely pierced the wall.
Beyond that, a large crack ran vertically throughout the entire piece, which had been forced apart by the collateral damage of the ball bearings. A spherical chunk six feet in diameter was now missing at the center of the rubble.
It was a smashing success. Literally. Tian Zhi sighed in relief, and the others patted Cha Ming on the back. They were about two months away from their official deadline but only two days away from the prince’s. Less than half a day remained until the Taotie arrived.
“You did well,” Tian Zhi said. “We’re within striking distance.”
“All that’s missing is the power distribution grid,” Cha Ming said. “I have some ideas, but I’ll likely need to combine everyone’s efforts to make it work. I think we’ll be able to finish something workable by the end of tomorrow.”
“We have time, we have time,” Tian Zhi said, waving his hand.
“Let’s celebrate!” Pan Su said, clearly cheerful at having broken another record.
Cha Ming shook his head. “I’ll keep working all night if I have to, but I’ll finish this as soon as I can. You guys go on ahead without me.”
He Yin, who’d been looking forward to going out, frowned. “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying you need to mix rest with relaxation?”
“It’s hard to relax when you’re so close to the end,” Cha Ming said. “Don’t worry, I won’t stop you from going.”
“I’ll stay here,” Tian Zhi said. “I have work to catch up on.” He rarely ever participated in such gatherings.
The three other researchers dispersed. Cha Ming heard them discussing many places they could go since he, the picky one, wasn’t coming. He smiled lightly, though inside, he was crying. It was likely the last time he’d see any of them.
“You don’t look too happy,” Tian Zhi said, making his way toward the door with him.
“I’m just anxious,” Cha Ming said. “We’re almost there, but I can’t help but wonder what’s next.”
“Something will come up,” Tian Zhi said, shrugging. “Worst case, you can take a break.”
“Fair enough,” Cha Ming said. They walked back to the central R&D room where the Breaker’s diagram was displayed. Tian Zhi backed up some data on a jade slip while Cha Ming fidgeted around with the power conversion matrix’s diagram. The three prototype Breakers were also in the same room.
Time dragged on, and eventually, Tian Zhi excused himself and headed back to the main office. The laboratory was empty, so Cha Ming could do as he pleased. First, he wandered to a corner of the room where he liked to work. It happened to be outside the surveillance area of the room. There, he took out the Space-Time Camera and poured a large amount of spirit stones into it. Click. The image of the roo
m was frozen inside the camera.
Security nullified, Cha Ming walked up to one of the prototype Breakers and summoned a pile of golden bars. He’d cast them before in secret. He lifted a portion of the Breaker, then another, then used his strength as a body cultivator to pull apart the upper shell, revealing an array of copper-colored bars. They formed runic lines that ran across the entire device. He pulled them out, one by one, using qi to break them out as required.
For the next three hours, Cha Ming immersed himself in his work. These bars would allow the Breaker to conduct sufficient amounts of energy to operate at maximum capacity. As he inserted them, he soldered them together. They contained runic lines that would help direct the flow of power. He also connected the bars with smaller pieces of golden metal. These additional pieces were his masterpiece, the thing that would cause the device to perform a different function than originally intended.
Thus far, the prototypes were irreplaceable. He doubted anyone but him could recreate the main components. Aside from that, assembling the device as per the latest design would cause it to short-circuit and self-destruct. That was the second trap. Of course, it was all moot if everything went as planned. He had a very different goal for the device he’d just modified.
Soon enough, he locked the last golden bar into place. He closed the device, then placed the entire prototype, base and all, into the Clear Sky World.
“It’s time to end this,” he muttered, sighing. He walked up to the next prototype and took it into his Clear Sky World. He did the same for the next one. Then he walked up to the main diagram and activated the Space-Time Camera once more, freezing a bubble in space. He filled that bubble with destructive qi that ravaged the entire diagram and the information within it, and sheared it off where the bubble ended. The spatial lock prevented any alarms from going off.
Nodding to himself, Cha Ming walked out of the room with purpose. He left the laboratory, traveled to the main research and development lift, and exited the underground complex. On his way, he painted some runic lines that burned up, sending a message to the Life-Leaching Monarch north of the wall.
Within a few hours, it said. If all went according to plan, he’d use the Clear Sky Staff to shear a giant gash in the wall and open the city up to the horror of spidery demons. He’d do this just as Southern forces were fighting the Taotie, which would be arriving shortly.
Cha Ming was greeted with nods and bows of respect as he left the basement below the workshop. He returned those nods and proceeded to his next destination: the vault.
“Greetings, Grandmaster Pai,” the attendant said.
“Hello there,” Cha Ming said, nodding. “Mind if I head into the vault and take a peek?”
“Not at all,” the attendant said. “Make sure you stop by the quartermaster’s office to check in.”
“As always,” Cha Ming said with a wave. He entered the corridor leading to the vault and stopped by the quartermaster’s locked door, knocking three times.
“Who is it?” the quartermaster, Wang Bo asked from inside.
“It’s me,” Cha Ming said, peeking in. “Mind if I look around?”
“Knock yourself out,” Wang Bo said. The level of trust he now showed Cha Ming made him feel a little guilty. The fact that the man had betrayed the North in the first place helped soothe the ache. He approached the lock and pressed his arm inside. The security tattoo was verified by the door, which opened, allowing him through. He proceeded directly toward a corner he often frequented as he looked over certain metals.
Snap. Another picture, another small mountain of spirit stones gone. He had very little time to act, as Wang Bo would definitely be glancing at the monitoring camera every once in a while. Therefore, Cha Ming began unceremoniously dumping whatever he could into the Clear Sky World.
Piles upon piles of rare ores. Rare medicinal herbs. Pills that hadn’t yet been sold. Piles of spirit stones, and even pieces of immortal jade. Not everything was expensive, but he even took cheaper objects, including the nice shelves that held everything for display. After all, if they were able to support the weight of the expensive ores, they had to be worth something.
Only a minute passed, but in that minute, the room had become completely empty. Cha Ming pondered leaving the fake Gold Source Core as a taunt to Zhou Li but ultimately decided against it.
Better safe than sorry, he thought, taking it in as well. The vault was now bare. Having finished his work, he walked out of the vault and proceeded back to Wang Bo’s office. On his way there, he sent a message through the jade Prince Shen had left him. I’ll be coming soon. I won’t have much time.
“You’re back fast,” Wang Bo said as Cha Ming entered.
“There’s a problem,” Cha Ming said, nodding toward the screen.
Wang Bo glanced at it and nearly fainted from shock. “When was the last time you inspected the vault?”
“The vault?” Wang Bo said, his face pale. “Ju-ju-just this morning. How? How is this possible?”
“I suggest you call Director Yong and Tian Zhi as quickly as possible. Together, we might be able to figure out who did this.”
Wang Bo nodded gravely and sent out messages on his core-transmission jade. Then he slumped into his chair, his eyes filled with disbelief as he looked at the monitor once again. “Everything is gone. Even the shelves. Even with a dozen powerful cultivators working together, and several storage devices, it would have taken hours.”
Cha Ming’s Clear Sky World was a possibility he would never consider. Normally, he wouldn’t dare to reveal it, but today was a special day with special circumstances.
“According to what you said, they had hours,” Cha Ming said. “The only question is, how did they break into the vault without physically damaging it?”
“Yes, you’re right,” Wang Bo said, peering intensely at the screen. “I don’t see the slightest bit of damage to the walls.”
“What happened?” a voice suddenly said. The door burst open, revealing Director Yong and Tian Zhi. “You said it was an emergency. You’d better not be lying.”
“How could I possibly be lying?” Wang Bo said, pointing to his monitor. “We’ve been robbed!”
“Robbed?” Tian Zhi said, looking to where Wang Bo pointed. His eyes widened. “Impossible. Your monitor must be malfunctioning.”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Cha Ming said, shaking his head. “It’s best to see it in person.”
“Let’s go,” Director Yong said, leading the way. They walked over to the vault door where, one after another, they authenticated and entered. Cha Ming soon joined the three men, who were staring around the empty vault in disbelief.
“How could this have happened?” the older man muttered.
“I saw something suspicious here,” Cha Ming said, flying toward the center. The three men followed him to a message—one that he’d scrawled on the floor and hidden weeks prior—and read it out loud. “The Wang family sends its regards.”
“What does it mean?” Tian Zhi wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” Director Yong said.
Wang Bo was speechless. As they stood there and shook their heads, however, Cha Ming was already activating the formation he’d painstakingly laid within the vault’s floor during prior visits. The runes were hidden beneath the floor tiles, but the moment he poured a mountain of spirit stones into the room, they activated. The room came alight with destructive lightning.
“It was you!” Director Yong yelled, drawing a sword and instantly charging at Cha Ming. He might be a director, a non-combatant of the Wang family, but he was still a peak-core-formation cultivator. He’d seen his fair share of death and slaughter. Tian Zhi joined him with a massive blacksmith’s hammer trailing crimson flames. They attacked Cha Ming, ignoring the lightning that seared them.
Cha Ming immediately summoned the Clear Sky Staff. Though he’d laid down a formation, it was just insurance. Inside this vault, he was invincible. An aura of half-step rune carving and hal
f-step blood awakening surged out of him. His nascent domain surrounded him in a metallic aura—ideal for cutting. His muscles brimmed with power. He swung out with Crushing Chaos, directly using one of his strongest attacks from the outset.
Director Yong cried out in shock, as did Wang Bo. He sheared through both of them, killing them instantly. Tian Zhi, however, was no slouch. He was a body cultivator, and he’d clearly spent a lot of time fighting. The staff blow caught his leg. It sheared through it, cutting off his foot, which instantly grew back due to his peak-marrow-refining cultivation. He swung his hammer and beat Cha Ming in the chest.
Cha Ming coughed out blood but didn’t move an inch. He thrust out his palm, infusing a nascent domain of fire into his palm strike and smashing through the man’s ribs. Tian Zhi responded by smashing into Cha Ming’s head. His bones, though strong, still cracked on impact. His skull shattered, and his head was reduced to a paste, but it re-formed a fraction of a second later. His strong soul kept him steady. He pushed increasing amounts of fire into Tian Zhi’s body.
The spiritual blacksmith, panicking, punched Cha Ming’s chest. The blow didn’t harm Cha Ming much, but allowed Tian Zhi to push off toward the vault’s door. “Who are you? Why did you come here?”
“I’m afraid traitors like you don’t need to know,” Cha Ming said. His voice was laced with anger, half at the man, but half at himself for repaying kindness with violence.
“Ah,” Tian Zhi said. “I see the Alabaster Group finally succeeded in planting a mole. It’s too bad you’ll never leave the city alive. I’ve already messaged the prince.”
“I’m afraid you haven’t,” Cha Ming said, shaking his head. “Spatial lock.”
Tian Zhi frowned as he took out his core-transmission jade and checked. During their exchange, he’d somehow found time to send a message. It hadn’t gone through.
“Any last words?”
Tian Zhi laughed bitterly. “Who would’ve thought that we’d be caught so close to the end. You toyed with us, lured us into a false sense of security. But tell me, what does it matter? The Breaker prototype still exists. Pan Su, He Yin, Shao Qiang still live. Don’t tell me you’re so cold-blooded as to kill them too?”
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 41