Heaven's Laws - Lifestone - Chapter 70

Chao noticed the complete absence of his conscience’s warning as he waded through the massive army’s bombardment in his spherical space barrier. That caused him more concern than if it were screaming at him. It might be because he was in a construct facing unreal opponents, but in a very real way he was about to test his most powerful technique at a level he’d never dared.

Even when facing off with the defensive pylon’s overflow, he’d reserved much of his qi in case something went wrong. To truly summon a vortex with all his power… What kind of calamity would that unleash? Here in a training construct where death wasn’t the end, he was about to find out. To learn if his fears of causing a world-slaying event were just the imaginings of a young cultivator, or if he possessed a power that shouldn’t exist in this world.

As much as he feared this power, he’d tested it on the smallest level. An empty cup pushed upside down onto the surface of water, didn’t accept the water readily because the cup wasn’t really empty. Air took up space. The air in the cup needed to be displaced. His vortex wasn’t the same. It didn’t contain air in its creation but was truly an empty container that needed to be filled. This allowed it to absorb things from above, below, or the sides–regardless the angle.

This didn’t mean that the placement of his vortex didn’t matter. From above, the air pushed upward. That meant that anyone on the ground would have the air brush past them as it moved upward. But if the vortex was created with its mouth opening perpendicular to the ground, then the air behind anyone standing there, or flying for that matter, would have to push around or through them.

A vortex’s angle to the ground, size, and depth all affected its potency. He hadn’t tested it nearly enough to have mastered any of these variables, but he did understand a few of the basics.

Off to the side of the army, he envisioned the colossal cavern of space. It was his first time braving something so large, so there was a lot of guess work involved. What if he tried to create something larger than his qi could handle? What if it wasn’t large enough and he drained himself without killing enough of the construct’s opponents? They were important questions, but he’d tinkered too long to not have a natural gauge for such things. This is just theoretical at best, but his imagination was one of his most developed skills.

A tremor in his space barrier won his attention. These were just Sky Realm cultivators yet—

Thousands of martial techniques flew true as they impacted the sphere of space surrounding him. Alone, they were doing nothing, but, as his barrier shook once again, he saw the interaction the individual explosions were having when forced into a single spot. They didn’t cancel each other out but fused and reinforced one another.

He then noticed the energy. It was made up of any number of elements, but there was something very peculiar about it. There were concepts at work. It’s almost like the elements that would normally reject each other, or interact, were holding back until they reached their target only to unleash everything they were holding back.

He sensed it right before it happened. His miniature tunnel he as using to allow airflow and to give an avenue for his perceptions feel out the world, he suddenly tore open wide and plunged through.

His barrier shattered as he appeared half a kilometer away. He deconstructed the tunnel before being forced to create a quick bend which he plunged into.

Techniques that he could never survive chased him. There were few at first, but he was flying above the army where he was easily visible.

Blinking from their view only to reappear meters in any direction, he was playing a losing game. One he never intended to play. He needed time. That was something he didn’t have.

***

There was a mousy squeal as Chao appeared outside of a space barrier and was forced to flee.

Huifen stared longer than she probably should have, but she’d never heard Fairy Zhu make a sound even closely resembling it.

Zhu’s squint narrowed as she noticed the attention. Instead of shying away, she objected, “How can Sky Realm cultivators forcibly break space. It’s absurd. They must be cheating.”

The spire’s spirit, now with his arms folded behind his back, turned to the girl, but Sage Pangfua spoke first. “No. Just as a cultivator close to the peak can use excessive amounts of qi to force their element to the next realm of potency, they’re using their numbers to force their techniques to unfathomable realms. Our battle formations are also capable of the same to a limited extent, but not this.”

“Well said,” the spirit replied. “This is indeed only achievable through superior battle formations. Many of which will be accessible to anyone that takes first place in the Trial of Might.”

There was a sudden silence that came over the group. They knew exactly what he was insinuating. Chao wasn’t just competing to win a miraculous resource to save his friend, or even ownership of the tower.

“The legacy of an ancient Divine Sect.” Sect Master Uilleam declared.

“Precisely,” the spirit replied reverentially.

“Legacy?”

Huifen glanced back from watching Chao’s retreat to see Genji with an elder at her side. The young fairy greeted her master with a salute.

“Come and watch,” Pangfua commanded.

As soon as she was at her master’s side, her eyes widened at seeing Chao. “Why’s he running?”

Pangfua quickly caught her up with events.

Huifen knew her Big Sister had been hiding Genji away while danger was present in the Divine Spire. She had the ice palace to cultivate in, so her time was anything but a loss.

In response to his predicament, Genji responded lightheartedly. “Oh, okay. It shouldn’t take long for him to figure it out.”

“Let us hope so, little one,” Sect Master Ginevra said. “I’m afraid it might be too late. Sometimes there just isn’t an answer to overwhelming force.”

Pangfua whispered in Genji’s ear.

Respectful as ever, the young ice fairy turned and saluted the Night Pearl Sect Master. Instead, of responding to the moon sage, she looked over and met Huifen’s gaze.

Should she say something? Was Genji expecting confirmation it wasn’t true? Glancing up at the image of her husband’s battle, she felt no apprehension. No fear. What he was facing was an incredible enemy. Something none of them thought possible. But she knew her Chao. He hadn’t been trained simply by a Divine Realm training construct. He’d been trained by Father Zan.

She watched Chao’s movements. It wasn’t the difficulty of the situation holding him back. The only reason it looked like the two hundred and sixty thousand Sky Realm cultivators had him corned was because he was letting them. This enemy was capable of destroying created space, but the chases Zan put him through made this look docile. Destroying created space? Her father-in-law could pop one of Chao’s barriers with a flick of his finger. He even made a point of doing it when her husband was being especially dull.

Looking back to Genji, Huifen gave a little shrug, followed it up with a wink. The true battle wasn’t playing out before them but in her husband’s mind. He was holding back from what he knew he must do. That realization, that he was still battling with his inner demons, swelled her with relief—and pride.

And then, as if to answer her every worry, Chao stepped into a space bend, but never stepped out.

***

Chao kept trying to envision his vortex technique as he plunged from one space bend to the next. The difficulty while fleeing caused him to doubt. He was too practiced with his tinkering for that excuse to hold for long. Of course, he couldn’t envision his technique while preoccupied with staying alive.

It was only the first excuse of many. He began focusing on what might go wrong instead of what needed to be done. There was a time for that, but not when it was time to act. He knew better. That’s why none of the excuses stuck.

Where did these excuses come from? Why was he seeking them out? The answer was obvious. He’d come here to save a friend. That was true. But that motivation wasn’t alone. There was something much more sinister latching onto it. It hoped to use something noble for its own selfish end.

That ravenous fury that wouldn’t leave him be was there in an instant. Still caged, the dragon, Justice, swore to solve his every problem. The phoenix, Mercy, objected. The moment he released them, they would be at each other’s throats.

Why couldn’t there be peace between them? Why didn’t they work as one? Neither seemed to hold the answers despite how much he desired them to.

They weren’t really what troubled him. It was the heavens that sent him trials. Trials with solutions he could not accept. Not even overwhelming power could make things right, so why even try?

Enough qi caught up with him through his space bend that it felt like he’d been struck by Sage Fang in the back. Instead of struggling, he wished it would finish him. He’d died so many times in training constructs under his father’s instruction that he welcomed the pain.

Despite that, he didn’t stop moving. There was still something driving him forward. He had a decision to make which he hoped to ignore, but a part of him still fought to face it. He didn’t like to leave things undone.

Seeing that he was just running himself in circles, he plunged into the next space bend, then surrounded himself again. The barrier he created was no different from the first one. This time he didn’t stay. He tunneled to a different location. Before stepping through he created a new barrier as this one was being destroyed. As it was about to collapse, he disappeared.

When he reappeared in his new barrier, they had completely lost track of him. He was finally free to think.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what was bothering him. He just didn’t want to face it. The truth was that the world was unfair. Such a simple truth that all parents teach their children, but they don’t tell you that it was a problem with no solution.

Every concept could be studied, and, ultimately, controlled. These were challenges—problems—that could be fixed. But the single most horrific problem had no solution.

How could one create a family, a livelihood, a sect, and never have full assurance that it would be protected? Even if you reached the martial peak, the moment you lose focus or look away, tragedy can strike at your own doorstep.

There was no guarantee, nor would there ever be, that he could protect Huifen from everything the future might hold. Nor would he be able to protect the others, or even himself.

When faced with a problem without solution, what should one do?

He ground his teeth so hard he feared he might break them. He didn’t like the answer he’d come to many weeks before, but so be it.

The locks to the cages he’d envisioned weren’t just removed, but the cages themselves shattered. If he could’ve been in two places at once, he would’ve kicked the dragon and phoenix both in the rear to demand they get on with it.

Justice and Mercy didn’t need encouragement. There was no opposition more natural. Teeth and claws, massive bodies and qi, they clashed only to end up grappling.

Chao no longer held back his internal turmoil but let it rage. If there was no solution, then he’d just do what he could. He’d fight on both sides of a battle that seemed to have no end.

Turning his attention to the battlefield, he concerned himself very little with what the army was doing. All that mattered was their position. He had no more excuses.

Without the distraction of countless techniques aiming for his life, the vision of his vortex became as clear. He didn’t hold back. For the first time, he poured himself out while casting his technique.

A divine worm as long as a small continent seemingly snuck up on the army from the flank. Its maw opened in an instant. It was half a kilometer high, and just as wide. This was no Divine Beast. Chao’s vortex had arrived.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening, then the air of this illusionary world began to move. One of the basics he’d learned about his space vortex was that if he made it big enough, most of the other variable didn’t matter.

It started small, like the gale of a storm. For Sky Realm cultivators, it wasn’t difficult to manage. That changed within seconds. The vortex’s belly was hundreds of kilometers in length. It needed to be filled.

As for Chao’s qi, he’d used all but the last recesses which he was funneling into his technique to keep it from collapsing.

These were Sky Realm cultivators. Their ability to fly and the amount of force they could exert with their techniques placed them near the top of all existences in the world. All reason demanded they should at least be able to flee, but once they realized they were in danger, it was already too late.

Entire formations of men were swept into the serpent’s mouth. Their defensive arrays held them together, but they went in all the same. It was like one small encampment after another was plucked from the ground.

Those furthest away were able to put up more resistance. For a moment, it looked like a large bite had been taken out of the army’s flank and the rest could hold out. It was then that small chunks started to peel away from the ground. Once boulders were being dragged into its mouth, the rest of the army was seemingly swept up all at once.

The next part was the most dangerous. Those pulled into his vortex weren’t necessarily dead. Only those that collided with other cultivators or the walls of his vortex would be in immediate danger of life and death.

He waited, allowing his vortex to continue to fill. He wouldn’t let it gorge itself. If he waited too long then the suction force would slow, or stop all together, and its prey would be able to escape.

With the little qi he had left, he tunneled to hover not far from the base of the vortex’s mouth. There was only one reason he wasn’t devoured with all the rest. With his hand outstretched, a wall of space shot upward and outward, opposing the enormous space worm.

He cut his qi to the vortex. It was too massive to dissipate right away, but it didn’t take long.

With his hand braced against the frictionless space barrier, he began to slump forward only to fall to his knees. His qi was almost empty, but there was enough for him to hold this barrier together as his vortex spit his enemies out. Frictionless it might be, but that didn’t mean his barrier was impossible to collide with it. Just the opposite. And there was no structure more solid than created space.

Kneeling at the base of the wall, he didn’t even have to use his perceptions to know they’d arrived. Like hail on a shingled roof, a series of raps sounded only to be followed by even more. It wasn’t long before there were so many that he was unable to distinguish between individual raps.

Then bodies began to fall. Not bodies, but parts that had somehow made it over his barrier. He wanted to extend it upward, but he couldn’t. His qi was too low to do more than he was already doing.

Looking up, he then saw something that caused him to flinch. The random limbs should’ve been enough to set him on edge, but he watched one individual cultivator missed his wall entirely and shot into the distance with such speed that he doubted Huifen could match it with a head start.

Perhaps that meant that some of his opponents would survive. He should probably prepare for the man, but he’d just expelled more qi than ever before and his limbs didn’t seem to want to listen to him.

When most of the rapping slowed, Chao examined the opposite side of the wall with his perceptions. What he found should’ve left him appalled. Instead, he sighed.

There was already enough blood and body parts scattered around him, but he had to see it with his own eyes.

He sat back on his haunches as his defensive barrier started to unravel. Because it lacked friction, what struck high on the barrier didn’t fall slowly like a raindrop on a window in an afternoon storm. What hadn’t been blasted outward had become a pile of corpses. To call them corpses was too generous. All that was left was bloody sludge.

As his wall came down, a hill of this sludge many times overhead appeared, threatening to collapse on top him. Part of him wanted it to. that wasn’t meant to be.

What did happen surprised him. So much blood had built up due to his barrier, that with it gone, it all came crashing down. A crimson wave washed over him where he kneeled, reaching up to his chest. He had to brace himself to not fall over.

There was a time he would’ve mourned so much death. Even in this illusionary world. But all this did was confirm what he already knew.

Covered in carnage, he came to his feet. He called out, “Is this enough?”

Besides the hill of gore directly in front of him, the entire area was splattered with much of the same.

The spire’s artificial spirit appeared before him, already on its knees. It then placed its hands on part of the blood floor that was still mostly intact and kowtowed. “Master Long, would you please give me a name?”

“I will, but it’s a decision best made with my wife’s counsel. Can I now have the healing treasure that you mentioned?”

“It is waiting for you outside the construct.”

“Then, take me there.”