He took deep, ragged breaths as he determined the root of the problem. Spirit-Banishing Scripture? Spirit-Banishing Intent? The ability to see and touch spirits? What in the seven hells had Huxian done? Their link and their ability to communicate had grown thin of late, to the point that they couldn’t converse. Only limited access to demonic qi was still available to him, which likely meant the same applied to Huxian.
This isn’t a bad thing, Cha Ming thought, using rationality to numb the pain. This is what I needed. If I can see and interact with spirits, I’ll be able to deal with the Spirit Temple. It makes incriminating the Wang family much easier.
The pain in his eyes finally reduced to a soft, dull pain. He summoned a mirror from a cupboard in their lab and looked into his eyes. Bloody mess aside, there were now three rings in his eyes. One wide jade ring surrounded his pupil. It was in turn surrounded by a violet ring, and finally, a golden ring. Compared to the other times he’d activated the technique, the rings were dull and inactive. Yet when he moved to retract them, or even hide them with his Seventy-Two Transformations Technique, they didn’t budge.
What does it mean? Cha Ming thought. He could feel that no Devil-Sealing or Demon-Subduing Intent was leaking out, which meant the technique wasn’t technically active. However, as he stared at his hand, he could see a faint jade glow, a mere shadow of what he could usually see with the technique turned on. Looking up at He Yin, he saw that the alchemist had a much thinner glow surrounding his skin, a hint of merit compared to the ocean he himself had harvested.
“Pai Xiao?” He Yin asked again. “Are you all right?” The middle-aged man scratched his short black hair. His laboratory coat, usually immaculate, had gotten stained in whatever Cha Ming had splashed when he’d collapsed. Blood and a mysterious yellow gore, perhaps?
“It seems I’ve unknowingly broken through in an eye technique I practice,” Cha Ming said, standing up. Though he’d wanted to hide his eye techniques, there was no way he could do it now, especially given how much time he had to work with. He summoned flames to burn away the blood on his face and used the power inherent in his laboratory garments to clean them.
“That must be a killer technique if it makes you react like that,” He Yin grumbled, wiping the sweat off his brow. Due to the dangerous nature of the alchemical ingredients they’d been working with, half the building could have disappeared if things had gone even a little more wrong. “Is it useful in crafting?”
Seeing an opening for a few more scientific breakthroughs, Cha Ming grinned. “As a matter of fact, it is. It’s especially good in detecting energy pathways and runic lines.” It was a blatant lie, but it would enable him to reveal a few more of his abilities. If he could blame it on his eye technique, a sudden increase in his already impressive runic knowledge would be acceptable.
“Great,” He Yin said. “That’s great. With our moved-up deadline, I didn’t know what we’d do.” Two months had passed since his return, and the half-year deadline they’d been given had been shrunk even further down to four months. Only two months remained.
“I think I have some ideas,” Cha Ming said. “Let’s try them.” He moved up to the bench where the remnants of their experiment lay.
“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
