“But I don’t want anyone else…” she said in a weak, quivering voice.
“I’m sorry. This is goodbye.” With these words, he left the poor girl sitting by herself in the private dining room, her face covered in tears. As he shut the door to the room, he heard her uncontrolled sobbing. He shuddered slightly before continuing down the hallway. A drop of salty liquid traveled from his right eye to his mouth, which he quickly wiped away. This single tear was all he could afford.
Uncle Bai was right, he thought. It was unfair for me to lead her along. Ending it now is for the best. One day she’ll find someone much better than me. Someone who can care for her properly and keep her out of danger. Someone who won’t let her die like I did my sister.
He didn’t return to his courtyard immediately. Instead he went for a walk to calm his nerves. Sadness was a luxury he couldn’t afford yet a tax he couldn’t avoid paying. It was snowing outside, a rare occurrence this time of year so far south. Hundreds of snowflakes pelted his face and wreathed his blond and white hair. While he could have made the snowflakes melt away, he chose to let them remain.
As the snow accumulated, he walked on the wooden floor of the entertainment district, leaving distinct footprints wherever he went. They would soon be filled in with fresh snow, leaving no trace of his passage. As he walked, he focused his attention on the snowflakes on his face. They had melted and subsequently soaked his green robes.
The melting snowflakes reminded him that he and Xin Er belonged to two different worlds. She was a precious snowflake, one that would surely melt into a liquid droplet if she touched him. The heat he emanated would change her into something she wasn’t. It would sap away her innocence. And as much as he wanted to be with her, he could never forgive himself if he destroyed such a precious snowflake.
Chapter 18: Legacy Weapon
It was now dusk, and a slight chill pervaded the room where Cha Ming sat in meditation. He took a deep breath and circulated his cultivation for a full two hours before opening his eyes and withdrawing a sealed glass bottle from within his bag of holding.
After popping open the lid, a thick medicinal aroma filled the room. Just breathing in the pills’ residue caused the barriers surrounding his five qi lakes to shudder slightly. Without any hesitation, he popped a pill into his mouth. It burned as it traveled down his throat and settled into his stomach. There, the pill separated into five streams of elemental energy, which impacted the barriers restraining his qi lakes.
Since the barriers had been weakened, he quickly took out a crystalized elemental essence stone and placed it on the portable energy-gathering plate. The rich qi assaulted the weakened membrane causing it to crack slightly.
Once more!
After a second assault, the cracks spread outward in the shape of a spiderweb. A third rush of energy finally dissolved the weakened membrane. The borders of his qi lakes expanded, signifying that he had finally reached the sixth level of qi condensation.
Following his breakthrough, he instantly felt his soul being invigorated. It was time for the next step—earth body refining. He took the Clear Sky Brush out from his bag of holding and carefully started drawing out the next pattern.
Each pattern thus far had been created based on each elemental character. He only had a pitiful amount of information on each three-dimensional character and could only paint each one by trial and error. Fortunately, they seemed to follow three distinct rules: the base units were formed from the “essence” of the character, the connecting base was formed from the base character, and each “branch” in the character was formed by five subgroups of base units on each of twelve branches. In total, there were seventy-two key points to each character. Further, the character as a whole resembled the nature of the base character, such as flickering flames or growing trees.
This time, Cha Ming was going to attempt to build a character from jade bricks1. Earth was a stable element, and it was used to build foundations for roads and cities. As a result, Cha Ming guessed that the correct way to arrange it was in a similar fashion.
Whether he succeeded or not would depend on his luck and his efforts in the following week.
Nightfall.
An aged but muscular figure was seated in a plain brick room. He didn’t like keeping any useless things around, as most would simply disintegrate when subjected to extreme temperatures. The only things that Bei Ling kept in the room was a stone bed made of obsidian and covered in a thick, fire-resistant cloth, as well as a large worktable forged with soul alloy and reinforced with trace amounts of star steel. Nothing short of a meteor crashing down on his dimensional abode stood a chance a damaging these prized possessions. Which, coincidentally, greatly resembled his own forging process.
He had stared at the pile of soul alloy for quite some time before finalizing the plan that had jumped in his mind when he watched the young whelp spar. Visions like this didn’t come often. Inevitably, each weapon he forged after having a vision became a masterpiece. He couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.
His muscular figure inhaled deeply, imbuing the incoming air with burning hot foundation-establishment qi before breathing it out toward the materials. The pile of soul alloy didn’t even react. He knew from experience, of course, that pure soul alloy would only melt at a temperature five times higher than necessary for steel. This was one of the reasons it was so difficult to work with and why so few craftsmen bothered working with this particular material.
After breathing fire on the soul alloy for the better part of an hour, the hundreds of stones quickly melted into a puddle, which he kept suspended in midair. The white-hot metal radiated with a soul-searing heat.
Not quite enough yet. He increased the temperature twice more. At this point, the white-hot metal began bubbling as impure black smoke left it.
The process continued for twelve hours. Each time he increased the temperature, even more impurities were burned away. The resulting blob of soul alloy was seventy percent of the original mass. Without this extra purification process, soul-alloy weapons would never exhibit peak performance.
After exhausting himself thoroughly during the purification process, he rested while allowing the metal to cool naturally. Just before it solidified, he used his soul force to mold it into a rough cylindrical shape—seventy-two inches long and two inches thick as specified.
Now for the hard part. He gritted his teeth as he conjured a massive spiritual hammer, the same hammer that he had used while fighting Cha Ming.
He began pounding on the white cylinder as soon as the soul alloy solidified. Each strike released shockwaves due to his terrifying fleshly body power, which had reached the early stages of the Bone Forging realm. The pounding ensured that the very last impurities were expelled, all the while forming the material into its final shape. Keeping the temperature high was vital, since any significant drop in temperature would render the material too brittle to work with. Periodically, he let out a hot breath to increase the metal’s temperature back to its melting point.
After pounding out impurities for a full day, he began the next step of the process—shaping. For this task, he split his hammer into two pieces. One piece resembled an extension of his hand, which he used to steady the hot, glowing metal. This hand was forged from pure soul force and was immune to the scalding temperatures. He could also control it with the same dexterity as his left hand—multiple tendrils connected his palms and fingers to the ethereal glove to enable such fine control.
The hammer in his right hand reduced to half its original size. In addition, the surface was concave. It was the perfect shape to slowly hammer the cylindrical weapon to perfection. He hammered at the rod of metal while holding it against his soul-alloy workbench, using a thin film of soul force to cushion the impact.
His brow was thick with sweat from the two days of heating and hammering. Fortunately the high temperature in the room evaporated any sweat before it had a chance to fall on and ruin the weapon he was creating. In fact
, the heat would have also burned any normal possessions he was wearing. As a result, he only wore a pair of thick heat-resistant pants, goggles, and a simple hair tie.
The shaping work continued for two full days before he was satisfied with the initial state of the weapon.
Now, what runes to inscribe… This was what he had spent the initial day visualizing. His hammer quickly shrank in size until it was half a foot long with a chiseled end. This was the most precise part of the work, and the most mentally taxing. Any mistakes here would ultimately ruin the final product, and he would need to start over.
He started with the core of the design—five elemental patterns, which were carefully engraved onto the staff with extreme precision. He then started engraving supporting runes near the five patterns in a seemingly random order. As he inscribed, his demeanor turned feverish, and he soon abandoned his initial plan entirely. This was inspiration. It could never be sought, only found.
With every strike, a new runic line was formed. Had he been in his right mind, he could never have imagined making these lines—they just didn’t make sense to him. They were far too mysterious and vastly exceeded his current realm of comprehension. With every strike, the pattern expanded from the center of the staff and proceeded to the edges. After reaching the edges, however, he did the unthinkable. Starting from five points, each five inches from the end of the staff, he carved out a spiral pattern that connected at the end of the staff. There, he inscribed a star.
This was something only weaponsmiths and talisman craftsmen knew—a star inscription or talisman would surely lead to the immediate destruction of the end product. However, this effect was delayed for a weapon inscription, as the inscription was only filled in at the end of the process.
He didn’t stop there. He inscribed the other side of the staff in the same haphazard fashion, forging a mirror pattern at the end of the staff with an additional star. “Not strong enough,” he muttered under his breath. “I need to strengthen the materials.”
Without thinking much, he wandered over to a small cabinet on one side of the room. The cabinet was built out of the finest jade, the ideal material for preserving medicinal properties. He quickly grabbed eight small boxes from the cabinet, not bothering to close it afterward. The materials inside were priceless, but to the expert craftsman in an enlightened state, cost was irrelevant.
First, he crumbled a few jade leaves in his hands, sprinkling the crushed powder over the staff. The fine dust settled into a few of the inscriptions, after which he temporarily raised the temperature, allowing the material to infuse itself into the runes, which immediately shone with a green hue. He repeated the process four more times with crimson firestone, brown jadeite, cold iron, and eversnow. On a whim, he took out a glass vial from a special chest. After opening the stopper, a thick cloud wandered over to the staff and was quickly absorbed. This also caused the existing colors on the staff to smudge and merge.
Without waiting for the merging process to complete, he took out a second bottle and removed its stopper. A second cloud formed, but this one was dark and ominous. Nine fearsome strikes of lightning rained down on the merging colors, causing them to fragment and reassemble into new shapes. By the time the process was completed, the staff had become a translucent white color with shifting colored runes.
Finally, the man sprinkled the contents of the last box onto both ends. It was starsteel, the same material he had imbued into his workbench. This material was priceless, worth far more than the materials used in crafting the staff thus far. Nevertheless, he would not allow this to become a failed product. He couldn’t stand to see such a masterpiece ruined!
Soon enough, the starsteel was absorbed into both ends, which would suffer the most intense destructive forces once the runes were activated. He nodded while admiring the nearly finished product. Who knew if his inspiration was going to pay off? He didn’t understand half of what he had inscribed and had relied on pure instinct.
With a somber look on his face, he walked over to a nearby vat of glowing blue liquid. The liquid flew up at his command, forming a cylindrical pool. He threw the staff into said pool. Most products he normally forged were quenched in water, mercury, or oil. This time, however, he was quenching it in pure liquified elemental essence, which would conveniently activate the runes in the process.
The staff began to vibrate as it cooled. The runes on its body began to glow, starting with the five central runic patterns. They first glowed in five colors, after which the remaining runes followed them and flashed in five colors as well. The translucent body of the staff began to glow intensely. The original glow of the heated metal was like a candle compared to the shining sun!
Finally, the ends began glowing black as the final star-shaped runes lit up. An intense burst of energy made it difficult to approach the staff, but he gritted his teeth and continued observing the process. The tendrils of black snaked across the staff, threatening to destroy it. Fortunately, they seemed to be restrained by the glowing white energy in the staff.
They were neutralizing each other.
As he continued observing, however, he noticed that the balance was continuously being upset in favor of the destructive black energy.
Shit! He gritted his teeth as he poured his spiritual strength into the staff, attempting to fight back against the destructive energy. This did little to stop it, however.
Taking in a deep breath, he bit his tongue and spat out a globe of dark red blood onto the staff. This was his life’s blood! Instantly, the man aged ten years.
This better work. This is all I can afford. As he observed closely, he noticed that the white strength in the staff finally balanced the black. They continuously faded until the ends of the staff resembled obsidian. The body had become a translucent white color. The runes, however, had faded. They were now nothing more than thin lines decorating the most beautiful weapon he had ever laid eyes on.
His lips formed a weak smile as he laid the finished product on his workbench. He was then overwhelmed with exhaustion and collapsed onto the hot brick floor.
The sound of bones cracking broke the silence in Cha Ming’s room at dusk on the sixth day. After hundreds of attempts and repeated failures, his earth body refining had finally succeeded. Now he was at the seventh level of body refinement. As predicted, his fist strength had raised to 756 jin. As an added benefit, the earth body refining increased his defense by one level. With his defense, speed, and regenerative capabilities all being one level higher than normal, coupled with his cultivation at the sixth level of qi condensation, he could now match normal eighth-level cultivators in a head-on battle.
He let out a satisfied moan as he stretched his stiff limbs; sitting in a meditative posture for a full week was extremely uncomfortable. As he opened his eyes, he observed beautiful red-tinted clouds through an open window. They stretched across the horizon in a chaotic fashion, giving the rising half-moon a reddish hue.
This moment of calm was harshly interrupted by Huxian’s whining and yipping. Cha Ming sighed. From the looks of the abnormally clean floor, the poor fellow had already run out of food. He did not know for how long he had gone hungry; all he knew was that every moment of hunger was a moment of agony for the rapidly growing fox.
Speaking of rapid growth, Cha Ming’s eyes narrowed as he noticed that the baby fox looked substantially stronger than before.
You broke through again? he asked Huxian mentally.
Yes, I broke through yesterday. I’m now a ninth-level spirit beast, Huxian replied with a worried voice. I’m sorry, I can’t help it. There’s nothing I can do to stop myself. I even eat as little as possible!
For the growing fox, Cha Ming understood that this was the biggest sacrifice possible.
There’s nothing that can be done about it. At least both our strengths increased before this outing. I have a feeling that things won’t be as simple as they seem. The effort surrounding this “mission” is too great given the information we have access
to, Cha Ming said, patting Huxian on the head.
After exiting the quiet hotel room, they quickly paid a visit to a nearby restaurant. Cha Ming was hungry due to the rapid growth in his body. Huxian was just his normal hungry self. After consuming a full two tables of food, the young fox affirmed that while he was not yet full, he was no longer famished. They put in a large order for roast spirit beast meat for the next morning, which they would collect prior to leaving Fairweather City.
Huxian, lets go see if Master Bei has completed the weapon yet, Cha Ming said.
The man and the fox traveled at a leisurely pace to the rundown industrial district. After entering Bei Ling’s small shack, they were directly teleported to the furnished living room. To their surprise, they were greeted by Hong Lai. The grim-faced man was serving a bowl of soup to Master Bei, who was resting in an armchair.
Cha Ming immediately noticed a conflicted mood in the room. Master Bei, the vigorous older man who had undertaken the creation of his staff, was now pale and gaunt. The master weaponsmith seemed like half the man he was six days ago. His wiry frame had thinned significantly, and a bald patch had now appeared on his previously full head of white hair; it was as though the man had aged a full decade.
Despite this clear reduction in the man’s physical prowess, an energetic glint could be seen in his eyes, a look of intense satisfaction. Hong Lai was at a loss on what to do for his master, so he poured them all a cup of tea and they sat in silence. Bei Ling was the first to speak.
“You’re a lucky young lad, you know,” he said. “Your staff is the finest weapon I’ve ever made. While crafting it, I was inspired to try things I’d never dreamed possible. I used countless treasures that I had been reserving to create my legacy weapon, my final work. Yet before I knew it, I had already created it.
“I will never make another weapon again. I don’t have the heart to forge again. Spiritual blacksmiths are inspired by their pursuit of perfection. This staff is the final product in this journey. I call it the Clear Sky Staff.” Bei Ling then withdrew the staff from the bag of holding at his waist.
Blood Moon Page 18
