He snapped his fingers, and shimmering motes hanging in the air became flames, became force, became sound. The containment array carved around the testing range crackled hissed and popped, leaving the blast wave to do nothing more than ruffle his hair.
Liu Xin blinked, more out of reflex than anything, and reached for his inkbrush. Cultivation had changed a lot, but this was probably the thing he noticed most. The flash of explosion didn't leave spots in his eyes anymore, the bang didn't make his ears ring. It would have been disappointing, if the new sensations hadn't replaced it. He could track the build up of heat, the trailing edge of the wave, see the energy that sparked in each granule of the explosive dust as the reaction went off. Was different, not worse though.
He'd always had a thing for the flash and blast. Even when he'd still been accepted in his old man's home, toiling away learning how to cut a proper sole, or secure the heel of a work boot. It was fireworks and street entertainers with tricks and flashpowder that he loved. He'd worked out a bit of it himself, the first time he'd managed to set a cloud of flour off was a joy, even if he'd gotten his ass beaten black and blue for it.
Impressing the lads out on the streets with flashy tricks was how he'd gotten Shou De's attention back then too.
…It'd even been useful after, when he was out on the street. Anything that looked like it might come from a spark of qi spooked off your average street tough.
He snorted at that. Well he couldn't blame 'em. Cultivators were amazing… and gods damned terrifying. Dabbing his brush in the inkpot, he leaned off the stool he was perched on and scribbled out his observations on the last blast. A curl of his fingers shut off the array and drew the remaining powder out a sparkling snake. Shouldn't have been so much left, there was an error in the mixture if this many granules were inert.
…Man even as a high and mighty upcoming Immortal, he was still playing with dirt huh?
Well he couldn't think that and not remember the rumble and roar of a thousand tons of dirt and rock crushing a swarm of underground beasts, and walls as thick as any castle flowing together in seconds. If cultivators were scary, then he didn't have the words for what the Elders were when they tried.
The idea that there were those out there even stronger than them made something in his mind just want to curl up in a ball and give up sometimes. That part of him had been shrinking away since his breakthrough though.
…Dust. A million million grains, each of them worth nothing at all. Set the right spark though, and they'd make themselves heard, wouldn't they?
"Heh, and ain't that some navel gazing shit," Liu Xin sighed. He slid off his stool, spun his fingers, guided the inert dust back into a jar on his desk. He'd found himself doing that alot more lately as he'd finished breaking through into the third realm. Apparently it was important, but he couldn't help but feel silly whenever it happened.
But you know, it made him remember the stories in the rootways, the legend of the war, when nightmares skittered in the streets and shadows screamed, even before the earth had shaken with armies tromping boots, and the light had come down and freed them all from hell.
…It was probably mostly stories, Gramps sure scoffed and grumbled, complained how weak and soft people were now, but then again he'd always been an abusive drunken sack of shit, and he saw the way the other old timers sneered at him. Liu Xin had always liked their stories better.
He'd found it surprising how many people talked shit about her grace behind their hands, away from Xiangmen. Seemed disgustingly disrespectful to him, but he supposed they were free to complain. He reached the shelf on the opposite side of his workshop, and then stopped for a second to really let that sink in. His workshop. His. What kind of surreal shit was this that a rootways brat had his own personal alchemist's workshop, even if it really belonged to the Sect.
Inner Sect. He was still shocked that his shaping formations and powder formulas had scraped him a fifth place spot. Guess he couldn't call the Elder's wrong though, huh?
He rummaged through the shelf, clay pots clattering as searched through his powders and regents. Powders, dust and sand sparkled and flashed curling up around his fingers and arms, swirling around him a pungent cloud. It was easy to breathe in now. What would have killed him as a mortal merely tickled his lungs and throat as he breathed them in and out, in time with the cycling of his qi.
No, nothing wrong with the reagents. Eliminated that variable. That meant his theory on the combined was wrong? Or he'd fucked up the actual crushing and mixing process, too large granules? Too small?
Heh, imagine getting to live like this testing and testing and playing around all day just to make a slightly bigger boom, a cleaner ash. Man, he really wanted these charges to be ready for the next time Chao held a party…
"Liu Xin."
He blinked, straightened up. And very slowly turned his head, sweat beading on his brow.
"You. Are. Late. Again."
He chuckled, turning, eyeing the slender wraith of cold black fire staring down at him from his doorway.
"Ahah… I got held up?" he tried.
Cold golden eyes scanned the room, a scaly black brow arched, and his best friend gave him a supremely unimpressed look.
"No wonder that all of your security is disengaged and I was able to walk right in. You've disposed of your foes so thoroughly and quickly this time Liu Xin. I am impressed," she said, her tone telling him the exact opposite.
"..Did you just use sarcasm?"
"No," Xiao Fen replied.
"You did!"
"No, you are having delusions from being inside for too long," Xiao Fen said, her voice dull and bland. "You now owe me a spar as well as tea. It would be shameful if you allow your physical cultivation to decay."
Liu Xin sighed. This… this was fine too. Even if his joints would disagree by the time they were done. "I don't get to say no, do I?"
"Liu Xin is wise."
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