The day passed, and the hours flew by as we continued our conversation on the self-absorbed and dramatic nature of cultivators and all the silly things they named their techniques and abilities. I had only exhausted half of my supply of stories when the sun finally began its descent below the horizon, and we decided to stop for the night at a suitable rest spot off the beaten path. Enough traders and travellers had passed through to create something approaching permanent, with some stones arranged to form a firepit in the middle of a man-made clearing where a smattering of stumps pushed back the edge of the forest. Far in the distance, the Fault still loomed large, cast in black and orange by the fading rays, the faint jewels of its crown glimmering.
But it was a little bit smaller and a little bit further away, and that was all I really cared about. An easy whistle came to my lips as I began collecting and stacking up deadfall in the fire pit, leaving enough space for air to pass through and catch at the wood. What a wonderful day. Not even the spike of pain that rushed up my spine could ruin it for me.
“Someone’s cheerful,” Isabella commented, sitting down on a larger rock next to the fire-to-be, with her scythe laid across her lap. She rolled it up and down her legs, sending the scythe head spinning around in the air before halting and reversing its tracks. “Feeling better?”
“Much,” I agreed, hefting a fallen birch tree up and slowly dragging it back to the pit. “I’ve spent three years standing in place. Making some actual progress for once feels damn wonderful.” I dropped the trunk down with a thud, and looked up to the horizon where the Fault sat. “At this speed we’re probably still a week out,” I said, comparing the Fault’s size against my memories from home. “Maybe a bit less, if we pick up the pace.”
Isabella hummed. “Can you handle that? I thought you were trying to take it easy because of the pain.”
“I could push past the pain, but I’m not sure if it’s all in my head,” I admitted, sitting down on the trunk. “I need to check myself over properly. The Ruby Tears might have kept me from getting reduced to mince, but I could have a fracture that hasn’t healed all the way yet, just waiting to break again. Best to find out now rather than mid-sprint.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Death braced her head on her hands, watching me. “You’re not a doctor, last I checked. Hells, you’re scared of them, aren’t you?”
“Terrified,” I corrected. “But fear is a great motivator, and I was very motivated to not disappoint Doctor Lei when I worked for him.”
“Doctor Lei, right,” Isabella snapped her fingers, “that was that Witch Doctor you were crying about. He taught you?”
“Taught would be…generous,” I winced, thinking of the buckets of organs I lugged about at his bidding. “I’d fetch things for him. Occasionally those things would still be inside someone’s body.”
Come now Ryan, it’s just flesh! You’re a cultivator, you should be used to seeing it pulped into a fine mash. Now, use that cheesecloth and see if any of the blood is recoverable.
I grimaced. “I don’t know if it was worth it, but I picked a few things up whether I wanted to or not. Enough at least to know whether I need to-” -be sacrificed to- “-see a doctor.”
Isabella was still leaning over her knees, shuddering at the surfaced memory. “Sure. Right. Why wouldn’t a cultivating doctor be a monster like the rest of them? Fine. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Not really,” I shrugged as I began to pull my shirt off over my head, pausing halfway as I heard a muffled squawk. “Everything alright?”
“No- yes! Everything’s great. I’ll just get this fire going!” By the time I’d finished taking off my shirt, Isabella had moved off her rock to the fire pit, arranging smaller kindling within the lean-to I’d made. For some reason she’d also moved to the opposite side of the pit from me, and her eyes didn’t look up for even a moment, deeply focused on the task before her.
I turned my own focus back on myself, gently pressing a few fingers against each of my ribs, one after another. Despite the faint pain that echoed as I pushed them, I didn’t feel any real twinges or signs that the bones hadn’t healed correctly; if anything, they felt more solid than ever. It reminded me of my original training on the Steel-Barked Palms in some of the Sect’s gardens, pushing my hands to their breaking point just to get them to heal back stronger. Of course, no one ever had the stupid idea to do the same with the Falls themselves.
I moved onto the rest of my body, and found the same story nearly everywhere. My body had been pushed to its limits, beyond those limits, and every time my muscle had shredded or bones had splintered, the Ruby Tears had stepped in. They’d weaved my muscles back together, reassembled shards back into bones, and left me all covered by rosy new skin that was almost red with how fresh it was. Even the partially-healed bruise along my spine was just the surrounding flesh, as the last droplets of the Phoenix had focused on properly aligning my vertebrae and leaving my spine in flawless condition.
Of course, as I’d learned under Lei, any old corpse could be flooded with rejuvenating serums to heal its wounds; the Witch Doctor wouldn’t accept ‘donated’ organs in anything less than perfect condition. But bringing the body back meant nothing if the soul had already departed for the Cycle. What had made the difference for me was that my spirit hadn’t been summarily ejected and collected in one fell swoop after its host had faced such incredible trauma. Guess I just have to be glad that the tether between my body and soul hadn’t snapped.
“It had.” I looked up at Isabella’s interruption. She had seemed to overstuff the kindling to a ridiculous amount, though for whatever reason hadn’t seemed to notice as she studiously inspected her own reflection in the scythe’s blade. She continued, “There wasn’t even a strand left when you washed out of the basin. Frankly, if I hadn’t held you together, your soul would still be swirling around in the Falls, waiting for me to take you away. At this point your soul is only hanging around your body out of sheer habit.”
“That’s…good?” I guessed, watching Isabella’s face for any cues. “Or is that bad?”
“It’s weird,” Isabella finally looked up, meeting my eyes. “Look, I’m not a doctor, and I’m not exactly in the habit of leaving the dead to do their own thing. Just let me know if your soul feels like wandering off, okay? Now, can you please put your shirt back on?”
“Oh.” I stared down at my bare chest, then back at Isabella. “It’s the skin, isn’t it? I look like a boiled crab.”
Isabella coughed, dropping the scythe to the ground, then started laughing, clutching at her sides as she laid back on the grass. “Yes, exactly! A crab! No, a lobster!”
You don’t need to find it that funny, I grumbled to myself as I pulled my shirt back on and made myself comfortable again. “Very funny. Hold your amusement for just a bit, please? If my soul is being so kind as to stick around, I might as well check how it’s feeling.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The sound of Isabella trying to muffle her laughter and fail was still fairly distracting, but I just closed my eyes and took a breath as I turned inwards to the feeling of my qi. While I had very little idea on how to actually check the health of the former, I was painfully familiar with the feeling of the latter. I would’ve expected to be in significantly more agony from using my technique in the Wing room, but despite the echoes of pain my physical body felt, I didn’t feel anything of the sort from my reserves.
In fact, I felt surprisingly good. I didn’t have a mental picture of my reserves so much as an ephemeral sense of stamina that was part-physical, part-spiritual, but that sense was reporting back that there was nothing to worry about at all. My qi felt smooth and calm, the gentle push and pull of my vital energies reflecting new depths. Most strangely at all, I was reminded of the feeling of a fresh breeze, as if someone had opened the door to let the outside air in.
40,000 yuan per pill might be selling the Ruby Tears short if it’s left me in this condition, I marvelled. Though maybe that’s just what happens when you take eleven of them at once.
“No issues, then?” Isabella asked, still lying down on the ground.
“None. My qi reserves are probably in the best shape they’ve ever been.” I hopped to my feet, going through a few light stretches, breathing in time with the pulse of my soul. “I need to test something.”
The new smoothness of the qi in my veins. The new depth to the energies. One grew their reserves by draining them fully, and I’d emptied mine repeatedly throughout the last few days; during my second duel to the death, when I’d entered the Library from the Tzangtze, and when I’d escaped Gareth’s grasp in the Wing room. I hadn’t had the chance to recognise it, but now that my reserves weren’t being shored up by the Ruby Tears…
Exactly how much have they grown?
“Isabella, count for me.” I shifted my feet and squared my shoulders, taking a breath. Then, I pulled at my reserves, drawing it into the patterns of the Seven Falls Stance. My qi rushed forth, howling through my veins and lighting up my muscles as they traced a line of fire up my spine. I hooked my foot underneath the trunk beside me, kicking it up ten feet into the air, the entire log almost seeming to float at the peak of its arc before it began to descend once more. Timing it, I braced my feet and followed through with my entire body as I plowed my entire fist into the wood, bark shattering under the blow and my hand burying itself inside the wood-
“Shit!” -and then the Stance guttered out, and I yelped as the trunk tried pulling me and my arm down to the ground. I caught it as best as I could, saving me from a dislocation or broken limb from the entire thing slamming against the dirt with my fist still inside. I slowly twisted my fist out from the hole, wincing as a few splinters did their best to intrude upon the sensitive fresh skin. “Ow, Gods, ow, shouldn’t have done that,” I hissed, clenching my fist and looking it over. “Stupid, stupid.”
“Very stupid,” Isabella agreed, now sitting up and watching me properly. “Can’t imagine what that tree did to you to deserve your Heavens-Defying Wood Obliteration technique.”
“Funny,” I grimaced, pulling a particularly persistent shard out from between my fingers. “It’s the Sect’s Seven Falls Stance. Did you count how long I was able to maintain it?” It felt like the entire world had slowed. How long had I just revelled in the feeling of my qi flowing so freely? If I had to guess-
“About three seconds,” Isabella casually dashed my hopes. Then she snorted. “You know, Ryan-”
I pointed at her. “Stop. Right there. Or I’ll use my Heavens-Defying Death Defiance technique.”
Isabella smirked. “Sure you can get it-”
I turned away, ignoring her as I instead turned my attention to my reserves. Which, unfortunately, were exactly in the state that Isabella had guessed: utterly empty. Once again, the Seven Falls Stance had managed to burn through all of my qi in mere seconds. But those three mere seconds were a lot more than one second. Considering just how absurdly strenuous the Seven Falls Stance was to maintain for someone on the Second Step, that may have well been worth all the pain of the past few days on its own.
Except I’m not in any pain right now, am I? Despite having used every last drop of vital energy, I was feeling fine. It didn’t feel like my insides were turning inside out, or like I’d just run up and down the Seven Falls seven times. My spiritual sense didn’t have that brimming feeling anymore, but even if it reported back an empty, hollow feeling, it didn’t send spikes of pain at me.
Just that sensation of a cool breeze.
“I’m not getting qi exhaustion,” I said, opening my eyes. I turned to Isabella, whose pout at my ignoring her faded as I moved over to her side. “Tell me, what does my soul look like right now?”
“Your soul?” Isabella peered off, ever so slightly above my head. “It’s just hanging around you right now, though it looks like it’s…breathing? Pulsing? What does that have to do with qi exhaustion?”
I exhaled, sitting back on the ground next to her. “Qi is created from one’s mind, body, and spirit. It’s a combination of the three, the manifestation of someone’s life. Most people never use theirs consciously, and when they do, they can use it all up before they even realise. And then they suffer qi exhaustion as their body realises it’s missing all of its vital energies.”
It happened to everyone, the first time they crossed the Second Step. Months and months of intensive exercise focused on strengthening your body, honing your mind, and purifying your spirit, all to grow the piddling amount of natural qi you had into something you could actually use. But using that qi inevitably left you gasping on the floor in a puddle of your own sweat, as your existence tried to cope with the spiritual equivalent of your stomach trying to eat itself. It was the reason why Replenishment Pills were such a necessity, not just to regenerate the qi but to avoid the crippling pain that came with pushing one’s spiritual endurance to its limits.
And here I was, with a soul that wasn’t even hanging on by a thread, with reserves three times larger than they’d been a week ago, and not feeling a bit of pain from having exhausted every drop of qi I had in three seconds flat. In fact, I wasn’t feeling any pain at all, those echoes throughout my body now gone-
Because the echoes were never from the waterfall to begin with. My eyes widened, and I laughed. “Of course! It’s not just qi exhaustion, it’s qi poisoning!”
Isabella reared back. “Qi can poison you?”
“Too much of it can!” I gestured at my body. “Do you know how many perfectly preserved, rosy pink corpses I worked on under Doctor Lei? All from Disciples who took pills when they were already filled to bursting, thinking that it’d give them an edge! But eventually, your capacity can’t hold it anymore, and the qi explodes and shatters the connection between your body and soul.”
“But your body and soul are already separated,” Isabella finished, staring just above my head again.
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. The pain must be from my qi being compressed and being forced to detonate, but since my soul’s loose it just burns away harmlessly.”
“Doesn’t exactly sound harmless,” Isabella muttered, before sighing. “So, you’re okay? With both the poisoning and exhaustion?”
“I’m okay,” I assured her. “The qi poisoning should be a temporary thing, and exhaustion isn’t dangerous, just painful. Usually.” I sat back down on the trunk, feeling much better as I relaxed in the cool breeze over my soul. “Honestly, more cultivators should detach their souls from their bodies. Seems like you get the best of every world.”
“Oh, by all means, convince them,” Death chuckled darkly.
“Ah. Right.” I paused. “Hey, I have to ask you something about earlier.”
Isabella looked up, confused.
I pointed at the fire. “Didn’t you say you were going to get this going? And what’s with all the kindling?”
“T-that’s your fault!”
“How in the Hells is that my fault?”
With the last rays of light, we finally got the fire going, lighting up the clearing. Not too long after, on slightly wet grass staring up at the sky above, I fell asleep with a yawn and wave to Isabella, who just gave me a nod and good night from her rock before she turned back to the fire.
The next day, I found a body. But Death had gotten there first.
