Drakey nodded. After trying a few times, he was able to loosen much larger chunks of rock. When Ling Dong saw that things were progressing smoothly, he activated his Demon-Subduing Intent once more. This time, however, he simply kept himself wreathed in a very light coating of Demon-Subduing Intent as Lan Yin had instructed. Contrary to how he’d used it before, Drakey didn’t weaken, and Ling Dong’s imposing and threatening figure made him work even harder. Demon beasts respected the strong, and from the infant drake’s perspective, Ling Dong had that in spades.
They dug for a half hour, after which Ling Dong summoned the large steel plate once again. While Drakey busied himself filling it, Ling Dong carved out a large ramp leading to the surface. As he moved to retrieve the plate full of slate, Drakey let out a light screech and pointed to the wall.
“You want me to keep mining?” he asked.
The drake nodded.
“You want to carry this to the cliff?”
Another nod.
“Be careful out there.” As he mined, he kept his incandescent force on the lookout, monitoring and scaring off avian demon beasts with his Demon-Subduing Intent as required.
Days passed by in a flash. With Drakey helping, they were able to accomplish more than twice the result with half the effort. Not only was Drakey good at carrying, but it seemed that he had a special affinity for metal. After much convincing on the drake’s part, Ling Dong changed the course of his excavation. They were rewarded with a rich vein of meteoric iron ore.
With every day that passed, Ling Dong emitted increasing amounts of Demon-Subduing Intent. Yet he couldn’t help but feel that this wasn’t the right approach. While the pressure he gave off motivated Drakey to grow stronger, it didn’t feel like subservience, more like partnership.
Still, Ling Dong didn’t know much about beast taming. He could only accept Lan Yin’s advice and do his best. After a week of mining, Drakey broke through to initial purification, the first major realm for growing demon beasts. With his breakthrough, Drakey awakened blood memories that made harvesting ore even easier. Not only could he locate and collect ore much more easily, he could also purify it. When they discovered he could consume it to further his cultivation, they began reserving a portion for his consumption while keeping the rest for resale. Drakey’s motivation doubled as a result.
Ling Dong enjoyed his time with Drakey, Lan Yin, and Huoying, but soon his hands began itching for a forge. All this hard work was a means to an end, and what he truly yearned for was to travel to Blacksteel City and fix his damaged blade.
A steady unease was building up in his heart, a faint premonition that danger was closer than ever.
Chapter 6
Jin Huang attracted stares as he walked through the Alchemists Association’s lobby. His tattered robes and disheveled appearance were hardly fitting of a prestigious member of their order. Yet they weren’t staring because of this unimportant matter. Rather, they were playing a game. Every one of them was trying to guess just how many batches he’d failed.
Fortunately for Jin Huang, he hadn’t failed any. At least, not this time. He just hadn’t had time to shower or change before the room’s renewal. Only an incense time remained before the automatic renewal clause triggered.
“I’d like to cancel my room reservation,” Jin Huang said, breathing hard, handing a bronze slip to the attendant, who nodded and retrieved it.
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” the attendant said. “Alchemical equipment is very precious, and alchemical space is hard to come by in this city. Even with the current shortage of rooms, it would surely be worth your while to stay longer, even at 5,000 mid-grade spirit stones a day.”
“I’m sure,” Jin Huang said, evading her feeble attempt. Unfortunately, crafting pills below magic grade just wasn’t profitable enough here. The rewards at the Evergreen Alchemists Association were lower than in the Quicksilver Empire, something he attributed to the surplus of alchemists.
“Please convert these pills into their appropriate rewards,” Jin Huang said, tossing a few dozen vials onto the desk.
The attendant swept up the vials, which all contained a golden hue without exception. There was one type of potion and two pill varieties, the top three earners in the Evergreen Alchemists Association.
The attendant gave Jin Huang an awkward look. “I’m so sorry, but I’d forgotten to inform you. Due to a change in market demand, the compensation for these products has decreased by twenty points.”
Jin Huang’s eye twitched.
“But since you’re such a prized member, we’re willing to compensate you ten percent more than normal,” she added hurriedly. “Therefore, it’s only a ten-percent reduction.”
“Thank you so much for the favor,” he said with a fake smile. Inwardly, however, he could only blame himself.
It’s my fault for being weak, he thought. Once I become a foundation-establishment cultivator and a master-grade alchemist, everything will change for the better. I’ll be able to craft magic-grade pills, and my earnings will skyrocket. They’ll have no choice but to give me the respect I deserve.
It wasn’t that Jin Huang was poor. Due to his minimal failures and his superior products, he was still extremely successful in his endeavours. Thus far, he’d averaged 14,000 mid-grade spirit stones in earnings per day. So while the 500 mid-grade spirit stones weren’t a huge number, they weren’t breaking him. Instead, it was a matter of principle; they were disrespecting him, and he wouldn’t stand for it.
“We hope to see you soon,” the attendant said, smiling.
Jin Huang grabbed the pile of spirit stones and exited the premises. He took in a breath of fresh air, and it was only now that he realized why the city was called Evergreen. Much like in the Song Kingdom, Evergreen City was covered in a weather-regulated enchantment that spanned fifty miles in diameter. Not only was the city filled with lush plants, but the outskirts were also used to cultivate many medicinal herbs the alchemists needed. The source of demand for their pills came from the nearby Evergreen Battlefield. He couldn’t help but admire the Evergreen Kingdom’s foresight in establishing the city here.
Jin Huang enjoyed the greenery as he walked from Central Square to the outlying areas. Here and there, he spotted cheap inns, restaurants, and gambling houses. Pawn shops were also very common.
After searching for a while, he found what he was looking for: a cultivation hall. He entered the building, and after some brief negotiations with the owner, he rented their best room for a high-grade spirit stone, not a bad deal for a high-quality cultivation room.
He walked down narrow stone steps to the basement where his room was located and swiped a wooden card to open the room. Then he locked it behind him using a deadbolt crafted out of enchanted rune-covered wood. It sealed even air and qi from the outside, making it a soundproof location that was ideal for Jin Huang’s breakthrough.
An incense time later, he sat in meditation with ten vials before him. While each looked like the same pill, he knew better. They were modified foundation-establishment pills that would serve a special purpose in the upcoming days.
The meditation circle aided him in calming his mind as he harnessed the ambient qi. He didn’t draw in any excess energy, as his qi pools were pure and brimming full, courtesy of the gold-seal qi-stabilization pills he’d been taking. Instead, he carefully inspected the five deep pools in his dantian, searching through them with his incandescent force for the slightest hint of impurity.
After discarding five flecks of turbidity in his earth pool and two in his gold pool, he turned his attention to a cultivation method that was imprinted in his mind. The method was an inheritance he’d stumbled upon a few months ago. It bore no name, so he’d given it one: alchemical foundation establishment.
Jin Huang took in a deep breath before retrieving the first vial that contained a white pill. It contained nigh-invisible flecks of blue energy. He consumed the pill, but instead of directing it to all his qi pools equally, he fe
d his wood pool, contaminating it with the blue flecks of energy. The wood pool burst past an invisible shackle with the additional energy and rushed to solidify, but Jin Huang held it at bay. He consumed four other pills, one after another, which led to catalyzation in the four remaining qi pools.
Crafting pillars is much like crafting pills, Jin Huang recited internally. Unlike most cultivators, an alchemist shouldn’t strive to craft pure, single-element pillars. Instead, he should use his knowledge to optimize each pillar. Like a pill, the mixed product will be far stronger than a pure one.
As he thought this, an invisible force swept through his dantian and caused a small blob to separate from each of the five elemental pools.
He sent these blobs to their opposing elements and drip-fed them. They reacted violently. Destructive black waves rampaged through the pools throughout the entire process. It took all of Jin Huang’s powerful soul force to keep these waves from destroying his dantian.
It’s no wonder that this cultivation method requires one’s soul force to be at the peak of the incandescent realm, he thought. A normal cultivator would be crippled by now.
Days passed. Jin Huang continued the drip-feeding process. With each drip, the reaction became increasingly violent. This came as no surprise to him, as with each drip, the qi concentration of each pool increased substantially. If each pool had a concentration of 100 when he’d first started, they now had a concentration of 120. This came at the price of reduced qi volume, but in his opinion, it was well worth it. By the end of the third day, he had completed the process.
Jin Huang let out a sigh of relief as he opened the five remaining vials. He ate five pills in quick succession, feeding these pills to their respective pools. This time, he fed each pill to their respective alignments, greatly increasing their volume. They writhed uncontrollably as small crystals began to appear, signaling his impending breakthrough. He shattered these crystals and proceeded to the next step: linking.
At his direction, each of the five elemental pools released a branch. The first branch traveled clockwise toward the next pool in succession, creating a feeding mechanism. Four other branches did the same. These five branches connected simultaneously, causing qi to flow in a clockwise direction. Wood fueled fire, while fire birthed earthen ashes. Earth yielded gold, while gold guided water.
Finally, water fed wood, completing the cycle. As the qi circulated, each pool became slightly impure. At the same time, however, they grew in volume. Each of the branches took on a whitish hue upon completion of the creation cycle.
Having completed the easiest part, Jin Huang proceeded to the destruction cycle. He carefully guided five ultra-thin tendrils from each pool into their opposing elements. Then, they made contact simultaneously, and as they did, his dantian shuddered. Fire melted gold, gold cut wood, wood broke earth, earth absorbed water, and finally, water extinguished fire. Despite all his best efforts and the struggling creation circle in his dantian, the pools began reducing in volume. The reduction continued until creation and destruction reached an equilibrium of sorts.
Seeing that things were proceeding as planned, Jin Huang increased the flow through each black stream. His qi seas began to reduce in volume once more, and soon they began to crystallize yet again. This time, it was less in response to breaking shackles or limitations and more to do with a physical characteristic of qi. The concentration had exceeded the limits of a liquid, and each pool had no choice but to precipitate these crystals. They formed a seed, around which the rest of the liquid qi began to crystallize uncontrollably.
Jin Huang was overwhelmed as the five pools broke free from his control. He could only watch in wonder as a golden crystal, a shard of ice, a crystalline trunk, a fire-like solid, and a stony pillar formed in a completely natural fashion. The five black and five white lines also underwent huge changes. They too solidified, but instead of taking on their source pillar’s characteristics, they became five white cables and five black cables. One formed a white circle and the other a black star.
Jin Huang’s foundation hummed briefly once this rapid transformation concluded. A surge of energy entered his cultivation room from the outside, and there was nothing the room’s isolation properties could do to prevent it.
It was a gift from the heavens, something that would only come once with each respective breakthrough. Given Jin Huang’s unusual foundation, his surge was twice as large as most cultivators. The qi seas he’d emptied to form each pillar were rapidly refilled, and the liquid they contained was much thicker. This foundation-establishment qi would allow him to summon much stronger flames, unleash much stronger techniques, and finally, form the qi shields that were the trademark sign of foundation-establishment cultivators.
Jin Huang clenched his fist and reveled in his newfound power.
Chapter 7
Tick. Tick. Tick.
A large clock of foreign design counted away the seconds as Yue Bing waited for Supervisor Meng. While ignoring such a repetitive sound wasn’t an issue under normal circumstances, she found it hard to focus. It wasn’t her soul exhaustion but her worries. Something was going on out there, but no one in Southhaven believed her.
I need to keep focused and stay calm, Yue Bing thought. She ran her fingers along a rosary at her wrist as she recited a calming mantra, a soothing set of words that she’d learned from a Buddhist monk not too long ago.
The ticking slowly faded into the background as she focused on the words and blocked out external distractions. She forgot the simple but beautiful décor in the small waiting room and the firm but comfortable cushion she was sitting on. Soon, all that remained was the mantra and her breathing.
Having finally regained her calm, Yue Bing popped a small pellet in her mouth and continued absorbing qi from the half-dissolved pill. Her body automatically began cultivating to assimilate the qi while she focused on the red markings on her back. The characters, which had initially been blurry beyond all recognition, had begun to take shape.
She knew what had caused the transformation. It was the attack and her absorption of the bloody tendrils. The tendrils whose origin she couldn’t admit to. The tendrils that were wantonly destroying their troops as doctors and generals dithered in indecision.
Focus. Stop thinking about that time, she thought. She wrested her thoughts away and focused on the characters themselves. The bloodred runes now bore a resemblance to wood-based and water-based characters. Specifically, some elements bore a striking resemblance to characters for longevity, growth, and life.
Like a plant, she thought. The tendrils were like living organisms that absorbed lifeforce from the patients like nutrients from the ground.
Yue Bing opened her eyes in frustration. Her cultivation, her medical practice… no matter what she did, she would end up thinking about the incident. It was at that moment that Supervisor Meng’s door opened.
“Remember to keep calm and keep your mind on what’s most important,” Supervisor Meng said, escorting a young male medic from his office.
“The welfare of the patient?” the medic said tentatively.
“Your safety, you blockhead,” Supervisor Meng scolded, knocking him on the forehead. “You keep overdrawing your soul force. One of these days, you’ll cause yourself irreparable damage. Who are you going to save when that happens?”
The medic, unable to think of any proper reply, simply bowed and scampered off. Supervisor Meng looked to Yue Bing and waved her in. She followed him in and accepted a cup of hot soul-recovery tea.
“What can I do for you today, Dr. Yue?” Supervisor Meng said.
“Many thanks for your previous advice,” Yue Bing said. “I rested for a week without treating any patients, just like you said.”
“Might I inspect your soul?” Supervisor Meng asked.
“Of course,” Yue Bing answered. She opened her spiritual sea to the older man, who inspected it with his incandescent force. The transparent portions and distortions had now fully healed over, and it loo
ked better than ever.
“The damage is all gone, and your soul seems stronger,” Supervisor Meng observed. “I confess myself impressed at your recovery. I thought that you’d drop a level after suffering so much damage.”
“It’s all because of your expedited care,” Yue Bing said. She didn’t mention her unorthodox supplementation. They sat in silence, drinking tea, as neither was certain how to proceed. Soon, Yue Bing was forced to take the initiative.
“I seem to recall that day with a little more clarity,” she said carefully. Supervisor Meng raised an eyebrow but continued to listen. “That day, I worked myself to the bone to save as many soldiers as possible. I only suffered from a mild case of soul exhaustion after my last patient.”
“Mild soul exhaustion doesn’t exactly describe how I found you,” Supervisor Meng said wryly. “And I can hardly think of anything so tiring on the soul that could have elevated your fatigue to that level in a short amount of time.”
“It was the strangest thing,” Yue Bing said. “I felt a patient I’d healed grow weaker. Upon inspecting him, I realized his vitality was leaching away at a rapid pace. It was all gathering in a reddish cloud. Therefore, I used a special artifact and a forbidden spirit doctor technique to heal him. This weakened me greatly, and my soul exhaustion turned to a moderate case.”
She summoned her ankh from her bag of holding and showed it to the interested supervisor. He shook his head after inspecting it for a few moments, as he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“That still doesn’t explain the severe exhaustion,” Supervisor Meng said. “Unless there is more to the story.”
“There is,” Yue Bing said, biting her lip. “Once I finished treating him, the leaching stopped. That’s when I noticed the other patients suffering from the same symptoms. Without concern for my own safety, and against your teachings, I used the same forbidden magic once again, but many times over. Their symptoms dissipated, saving their lives, and I lost consciousness soon after. I only heard about the sudden death of those many patients after the fact.”
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