When would be the best chance to do it? Ling Dong asked.
Call out to the Sovereign when you’re ready, Darkwing said. As a king, you may call a conclave.
Ling Dong nodded. He spent the rest of the night crafting another eleven bone daggers, which he kept fastened to a belt on his leather armor. The mountain woke with the dawn. Demons of the night changed over with demons of the day. When the last of their changeover finished, Ling Dong sheathed the last dagger and began his journey to the peak.
Spirit beasts scattered as he approached. Purification-realm demons bowed as he walked past them. With a single order, they would give themselves to him as food. He hadn’t abused the privilege, but he had taken a few beasts here and there for his and Drakey’s sustenance. They were right to be fearful.
Before long, he arrived at the barren plateau at the peak of the mountain. He approached the tall spire, and once he was close enough, he kneeled. Hours passed as he waited for the Sovereign’s summons.
What business do you have? A voice called down from the peak at noon. The voice was omnipresent and shook the foundation of his soul. Ever since he’d accepted his position as king, the Sovereign was now his ruler. He couldn’t rebel even if he wanted to.
I wish to call a conclave, Ling Dong said. I would like to challenge the Killbright Asp King, the Shale Shearing King, and the Sunblaze King.
Silence.
What are your intentions? The Sovereign asked after some time. It was a question Ling Dong had expected, but he didn’t think she’d be so straightforward about it.
I wish to leave the mountain, Ling Dong said without hesitation. I am a human, and humans are social creatures. While I feel at home on the mountain, I can’t stay.
More silence.
I knew this day would come eventually. The Razorback Sovereign sighed. Though I was hoping it would come later, when your power was stronger. I take it you’ve discussed with your companion what is required for you to leave?
Darkwing said I need to win you territory, Ling Dong answered. Though how much is appropriate, I’m not certain. I’ll leave that for you to decide.
He then waited for her reply. Time slowed to a crawl as he awaited the verdict. Though the Sovereign was honor bound to accept reasonable requests, his specific request might be far from that.
You’ll need to prove your worth, the Razorback Sovereign said finally. I will convene a conclave in three days. Not only will you need to defeat those three, but you’ll need to show me your power. Fighting for territory isn’t without risks, so if you disappoint me, you’ll need to wait. Nothing comes for free on any mountain.
Ling Dong breathed a sigh of relief. Many thanks for your understanding, Sovereign, he replied, bowing.
Chapter 34
A blob of blue liquid floated in Jin Huang’s alchemical furnace, twisting as he commanded it. It wriggled like it was alive, constantly contorting itself as though trying to reach a comfortable form. Jin Huang didn’t command it to change; he coaxed it in a certain direction. It wasn’t long before the liquid took the shape of a catalysis rune. It joined another dozen runes in a secluded part of the furnace, patiently awaiting its master, who was working with a bubbling red liquid.
There’s no optimal runic shape for this component, Jin Huang thought. But does there have to be? Can’t it just share a name with another component?
The ingredient in question was the juice extract of a burning blood berry, which he’d carefully boiled at a temperature of 251 degrees until the most volatile components evaporated. It was required to augment the growth willow bark extract and maintain the overall balance of the pill formula. Following his instinct, Jin Huang willed the extract to surround the growth willow extract’s rune. The rune drank the liquid, and as it did so, it changed. A few lines appeared on the existing rune, perfectly reflecting the change in the substance’s properties by modifying its name.
After confirming the reaction was a success, Jin Huang added another six runic reagents to the mix. They stuck together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle and forming a runic combination. This new form regulated the energy and mass flow between the components, greatly enhancing the original recipe.
Soon, a violet blob appeared in the furnace. Jin Huang summoned five elemental flames and heated various portions of the violet liquid, combining them with the remaining runic components. Then he took these modified runes and formed a second jigsaw puzzle. Instead of allowing them to react as they pleased, he roasted the runes, speeding up an alchemical process that would have otherwise taken hours.
The reaction proceeded until the runes crumbled and formed another violet blob. Jin Huang then lowered the temperature slowly, allowing it to first congeal and then solidify. Once it did, he increased the temperature slightly, causing a thin liquid layer to form on the surface of the pill. He then plunged it into his frigid ice flame, shock-hardening it for increased effectiveness.
A golden glow appeared on the lustrous violet-gold pill. He hurriedly used his resplendent force to carve a runic pattern on it. Instead of forming a standard pill seal, the golden glow rushed into the runes and formed a modified golden pill seal. Not only was its effectiveness higher, but it also contained the character “Mystic.” This was the alias he used when using runic alchemy.
I wonder why Master thought runic alchemy was difficult? Jin Huang thought, popping the pill into a small jade bottle. He mustn’t have spent a long time on it, since he’d only completed it till the fifth mortal grade.
Little did he know that this was the combined work of his master and an alchemical grandmaster over the course of a year. If either of them knew that he’d only spent a few weeks fiddling with the concept to bring it up to such a level, the trauma would have killed them.
Pleased with the outcome of his experiment, Jin Huang stored the pill in his personal stash. While he’d sold many runic pills, this new lesser-magic pill would substantially reduce the amount of time Jin Huang would need to advance to the next stage. Due to its peculiar concoction process, not only did it have a gold-pill seal, it was just as effective as a mid-grade magic pill. It would go a long way in helping him close the gap with his senior brothers and sisters.
“I wonder how they’re doing,” Jin Huang muttered. He hadn’t seen them in a long time. Unlike him, they were born for battle. They spent every day dancing on a razor’s edge.
“You wonder how who’s doing?” Bai Xiaolong asked. The artificer had coincidentally just finished a haunting needle bomb. It was named after the peculiar construction of its metal slivers, which were both difficult to remove and excruciatingly painful once they bored into an unlucky victim’s flesh.
“Elder Brother Ling Dong and Zi Long,” Jin Huang said. “And Elder Sister Yue Bing too. They each headed in their own direction for training some time ago. I haven’t spoken to them in months.”
“Such is the life of a cultivator,” Bai Xiaolong said. “Even Dao companions will go years without seeing each other. That you were able to see them just a few months ago can already be considered a blessing.”
“That’s true,” Jin Huang said, smiling. “Do you have brothers or sisters? How about parents?”
“They’re alive, though our relationship is a bit complicated,” Bai Xiaolong said, grimacing. He put down his tools and removed his magical spectacles, carefully stowing them within a spatial treasure. “Many years ago, I was quite the prodigy in artifice. I’d obtained top scores in a local school and received a recommendation to study in Haijing City. The requirements for the academy were very strict, so I was overjoyed. So was my father.”
“What happened?” Jin Huang asked.
“My father’s business happened,” Bai Xiaolong said, taking out a thin bottle. He poured them two small glasses of a strong but tasty white wine. “You see, instead of seeking legitimate business opportunities, he’d begun dabbling in the black market. It wasn’t entirely his fault, as the Lion Financial Group had become increasingly tyrannical, and as
the leader of a noble family, he needed income to support our estate. However, as a result of his transactions, he got into legal trouble. These legal problems eventually made their way to the city lord’s ears. The same city lord who’d recommended me in the first place.
“He rescinded my recommendation. He didn’t want to take a political risk in supporting someone whose father might be in breach of the nobles’ code of ethics.” He paused. “I said many harsh words to my father. I told him that since this was what became of those who associated with him, then I wouldn’t set foot in his house again. I’d hole myself up and study artifice on my own. I haven’t been back since.”
“And I thought I had it rough as an orphan,” Jin Huang muttered. “Still, since you have parents, you should appreciate them. Some of us aren’t so fortunate.”
Bai Xiaolong drank the remnants of his wine and poured them both another round. “I ran into financial trouble some time ago, and I had to take out a large loan. Unfortunately, the interest made it prohibitively expensive to rent a standard workshop. That’s when I met Brother Hei, who rented this workshop to me.”
He chuckled. “Who would have thought that my father, hearing about my financial woes, had Brother Hei acquire illegal workshops. I didn’t find out about it until I’d already been renting for a full year. Since I’ve already lost face by renting for a year in the first place, I decided I’d stay here until I worked off my debt. Even then, seeing him now would be a difficult pill to swallow.”
“It seems to me like you’re being too harsh on your old man,” Jin Huang said, sniffing his glass. “He seems rather apologetic about the whole situation, and he’s even helping you financially despite your refusal to see him.” He gestured the parts on his workbench. “Artificers are rare in this city, yet Brother Hei is still able to source these key components for you well below market price. If that’s not a direct subsidy, I don’t know what is.”
“I know he treats me well,” Bai Xiaolong said. “But it’s difficult for me to eat my words.”
“If not for his sake, for your mother’s,” Jin Huang said, drinking the remainder of his glass. “You say it’s difficult to eat your words, but it’s probably even harder for him to eat his. He’s your father, after all, and sons are expected to apologize to their fathers, not the other way around. The way I see it, he’s doing everything he can short of bowing in apology.”
“I’ll see them,” Bai Xiaolong said. “Soon.” He leaned over to pour Jin Huang another glass, but the younger man declined.
“I need to head over to the library,” Jin Huang said. “I’ve reached a bottleneck in my alchemy and need some inspiration.”
Jin Huang’s eyes gleamed as he closed the last volume of the Twin Pentagrams Poison Art. The last five volumes had been particularly enlightening, as they ignored the destructive aspects of poison. The first five had to do with harm, while the last five focused on creation. Each one was an instruction on crafting living poisons for each element. Not only could they be used infect others, but they could also be used for defense, healing, and cultivation.
Three days had passed since he’d entered the library. Unlike last time, the chief librarian was nowhere to be seen. After obtaining his library pass from an attendant, he’d studied without interruption until he’d fully memorized the content of the Twin Pentagrams Poison Art.
Now all that’s left is for me to rear my own poisons, Jin Huang thought as he made his way toward the exit. Unfortunately, many of the key ingredients were extremely difficult to obtain. I’ll need to tap Uncle Bai’s supply chain to try and smuggle them into the city.
“Leaving so soon?” a voice said from behind him.
Jin Huang smiled as he turned around with his hands clasped.
“Greetings, Chief Librarian,” Jin Huang said. “Unfortunately, it’s been difficult for me to scrape together funds to peruse the library at my leisure. I could only stay for three days this time, and it could be quite some time before I manage to come again.”
“I highly doubt that,” the chief librarian said wryly. “A mystic alchemist like yourself should have no problem with something so mundane as money.”
Jin Huang’s heart skipped a beat at the name drop. After all, Mystic Alchemist was the pseudonym he used to sell pills on the black market. “You’ve caught me,” Jin Huang said, laughing. “I’ve just been busy researching pill recipes. I came for specific reference material, and now that I’ve obtained it, I’ll be secluding myself once again.”
The aged librarian eyed him carefully. “Follow me for a walk,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
Jin Huang, intrigued, followed the older man, uncertain where they were going as he walked through the maze of bookshelves in a seemingly haphazard manner.
What you study and what you want to do is completely up to you, the chief librarian sent in a scolding tone. But why did you have to stand out so damned much? Even I know your true identity. Do you think they can’t cause you problems just because you sell under a different name?
Jin Huang grimaced. Does it really matter if they know? Am I worth any attention to such a large corporation?
If you’d laid low and stuck to standard concoctions, they would have tolerated you, even with you flooding the market with gold-seal pills, the chief librarian said sternly. But you just had to go ahead and break the market by making a lesser-grade pill that’s just as effective as a mid-grade one. And then you couldn’t leave well enough alone—you just had to do it for four more pill recipes.
I don’t understand, Jin Huang sent. Doesn’t the Alchemists Association encourage competition and innovation?
It does on the surface, the chief librarian admitted. However, the greatest crime a person can commit is having too much wealth and too little power. Alchemists are a proud bunch, and your pills have caused all the mid-grade alchemists’ reputations to be tarnished. It’s so bad that people have been refusing to pay full price for their pills, quoting that a second-grade pill can perform just as well. Meanwhile, the Lion Financial Group is out for your blood. Or your secrets, at least. They’re here right now, in this library. You need to hide before you get spirited away like so many others before you.
Chills ran down Jin Huang’s spine. If the Alchemists Association and the library weren’t safe, where could he go? Forget making it to the slums and asking Brother Hei to hide him, he’d have a hard enough time making it off Center Street.
If you hide yourself well, there should be an opportunity to leave the city, the chief librarian said, waving his hand. A bookshelf moved over, revealing a hidden stone room. The room contained a single manhole, which the librarian opened, allowing a foul smell to fill the room. Be careful, and I hope for your sake that you don’t get caught. And if you do, remember that your life is very important. Some secrets aren’t worth keeping.
“Thank you for the warning, and for the way out,” Jin Huang said. He wasn’t sure when he’d get to see the man again.
“No need to thank me,” the chief librarian said. “I just can’t tolerate good people getting picked on. Unfortunately, there’s a limit to what I can do. Take care from now on, and don’t come back until you have power to lean on.”
Plugging his nose, Jin Huang slid down the ladder and into the city sewers. Soon, the only light he could see were thousands of red spots lighting up the large network of tunnels. His feet landed in a shallow puddle of excrement that splashed all over his robes. As the young man looked around while trying hard not to gag, he realized what the red spots were.
They were eyes, and he was surrounded.
Chapter 35
Within the grand elder’s cave, all seven Violet Heart Sect elders were seated cross-legged before a silver mirror. Within this mirror floated various images that seemed real and unreal at the same time. They were illusions, illusions inside Zi Long’s mind. And thus far, they’d proven to be useless. Counterproductive at best.
“He doesn’t seem to be showing signs of letting
up,” the sixth elder said. “It’s almost like he’s using our illusions to train his techniques.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” the fifth elder said. “If he can better himself before giving up, it’ll make his loss more palatable.” Of course, if it were up to her, they wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.
“If only we had more time,” the seventh elder said.
“What do you mean by that, Mu Qian?” the grand elder asked, frowning.
“I heard some interesting news,” the seventh elder said. “The Alabaster Group is in town, and they’re trying to find a way up the mountain. What’s more, I heard people they sent aren’t simple. One of them is a senior member, a direct disciple of the transcendent Lu Tianhao. If she were to make a formal request for his freedom, we would have no choice but to accept it. It also wouldn’t be difficult for her to take him away by force.”
The grand elder’s face darkened. “How sure are you of this?” he asked.
“One hundred percent,” Mu Qian said. “As Second Brother can probably attest.”
“Is this true?” the grand elder asked, looking to the older man, who grunted in assent. “Then we have no choice but to use vicious means. Perhaps under threat of death, he’ll capitulate. After all, we’ve blocked off all communication since trapping him. It’s impossible for him to know someone is here to save him.”
“Have you gone mad?” the second elder scolded. “Scamming him is one thing, but threatening him? The boy has never harmed us. Moreover, failure would only further alienate our strongest ally.”
“It’s our sect’s inheritance that’s at stake!” the sixth elder said. “Now is not the time to be tenderhearted.”
Violet Heart Page 28