“It’s worth a try,” Tian Zhi said. “Don’t worry about the result. You can always work on it if it’s ineffective.” His words were relaxed, but Cha Ming could see an expectant gleam in his eyes. He nodded and summoned a spear from his storage ring.
The spear was an unusual treasure. For one, it was made of pure metal. Its entire length had been crafted of a single material, making it a sharp but rigid core-grade weapon. The runes were also strange for this type of weapon. Unlike the usual strengthening runes, durability runes, and other things commonly seen, the only runes on the spear’s length were energy-gathering and energy-transferring runes. That all changed at the spear’s tip, which was covered in all sorts of runes enhancing the sharpness of the weapon. Still, no runes enhancing the weapon’s toughness could be seen.
“An interesting weapon,” Tian Zhi remarked. “It would last maybe three exchanges before shattering if facing an equivalent treasure.”
“Then it’s a good thing it only needs to last a single strike,” Cha Ming said. He grinned, then poured a predetermined amount of qi into the spear—the entire qi reserve of an initial-core-formation cultivator. The power poured through the spear shaft in less than three seconds, accumulating at the spear’s tip, which glowed with an unstable golden light.
Cha Ming wasted no time with a lengthy explanation, for seeing was believing. He didn’t worry for Tian Zhi’s safety—the man was a peak-marrow-refining expert, a blacksmith among blacksmiths. If he died from a simple demonstration, he’d have no one to blame but himself. So Cha Ming rushed to the wall with the spear, using no techniques to enhance his strike, only raw power. He jammed the spear into the wall. It penetrated a good three feet before stopping.
“Mediocre piercing power,” Tian Zhi said in obvious disappointment.
“I’d hide if I were you,” Cha Ming said, ducking to the side. Tian Zhi, uncertain of what was happening, didn’t heed his advice. He simply waited. Two seconds after the spear had pierced the wall, a sickening crack resounded in the workshop.
“Argh!” Tian Zhi screamed.
Cha Ming looked over and noticed that a foot-long piece of golden shrapnel had pierced the man’s thigh. Tian Zhi gritted his teeth and pulled it out. The bones, which had been broken by the strike, instantly mended thanks to the man’s fierce regenerative abilities.
“Not bad,” he said, stroking his beard as he looked at the spear’s handiwork. The wall, which the spear had barely pierced a few seconds ago, had broken in two. Where the spear had once been, there was a nine-foot empty crater filled with smoking metallic dust. Only a few fragments of the spear remained. A crack expanded vertically from the point of impact. The force of the detonation had clearly been aimed in a specific direction.
“And you’ve never tested this before?” Tian Zhi asked with a raised eyebrow.
“The result is a little embarrassing,” Cha Ming said, blushing a little. “I was hoping to channel around half of the energy generated vertically, but it was closer to ten percent. The wall section here is only fifteen feet tall, after all, and most walls are much taller.”
“Still, I think you’re onto something,” Tian Zhi said. “I won’t say we’ll use it as is, but I’ll definitely be filing for a new product bonus for you.”
“Thank you,” Cha Ming said, bowing.
“No, thank you,” Tian Zhi said. “You’re wasted on those other things, those gravity wells, those wind fans. I see real potential here with this demolition artifact.”
“Sir?” Cha Ming said. “Do you wish for me to continue enhancing it?”
“This?” Tian Zhi said. “No, it’s far too primitive compared to what’s needed. Instead, I have a special project in mind, if you’re interested. The benefit to our empire is astronomical, and the reward for successfully creating it… Well, let’s just say that, split amongst the development team, the poorest man could own a mid-sized city if he liked.”
Cha Ming licked his lips. “When do we start?” He didn’t want to appear too eager, but an entire city? Only a fool or a selfless man would pass up on that. Pai Xiao was neither.
“Tomorrow,” Tian Zhi said. “Take the rest of the day off in the meantime. Rest your mind.”
“Thank you, sir,” Cha Ming said. Seeing that Tian Zhi wanted to be left alone, he left the laboratory. He didn’t return to his workshop but followed his senior’s advice, ascending to the surface level of the Blackthorn Conglomerate. The first part of his plan had been to craft an identity and infiltrate the Wang family. The second part, getting in on Zhou Li’s pet project, had been a balancing act. After all, who wouldn’t be suspicious if someone who excelled at said project happened to appear on their front door?
The project’s goal was simple: to create a device capable of shattering transcendent walls, allowing Southern forces to pour into Northern lands. Pai Xiao’s spear hadn’t quite done that, but it had shown potential and destructive innovation that exceeded their knowledge base. The other two artifacts he’d created, though less obvious in their intent, had also shown that he could overcome an artifact’s grade limitation, exceeding normal power restrictions with reduced durability as a price.
Chuckling to himself, Cha Ming left the Blackthorn Conglomerate and went south to the entrance of the outer city. He’d been in Bastion for three months and had yet to try out the local cuisine. He was keen on remedying that situation.
Cha Ming walked out of a small but famous restaurant a few hours later. He was completely stuffed, and he had even taken some food to go, something cultivators often did, as they rarely left seclusion.
Who knew the South had curries? he thought. I’ll have to tell Huxian. Now wasn’t the best time to go on vacation, but coming back after the war was over wasn’t impossible. That was, if
