Book 15: Chapter 91

Every breath was so heavy that it echoed in the s.p.a.cious s.p.a.ce. Although he sounded as if he was heaving his last breaths, there was something about it that was abnormal. Perhaps that wasn’t so odd considering his red, mutated, oversized limbs that looked as if they’d been injected with strengthening enhancements. The chains as cold as their walls bouncing his voice off them were grounded deep in the ground to prevent him from blowing someone’s head off with a swing of his arm, yet n.o.body felt secure when their gaze encountered his.

Despite the aggression he exuded, there was a deep-seated sorrow in his eyes. Mayhap that sorrow was ironically enhanced because his face had been burnt so severely that it was too stiff to move. The devastated state of the room notwithstanding him being shackled made it seem as though he was determined to complete his mission to destroy everything in existence. His skin that was cracked and burnt red, as well as his contorted bones weren’t a product of a mutation but torture.

Judging from the shapes of his injuries on his limbs, stone-mill-sized tires were rolled over them, but there were also clear signs of him having been sliced using blades. The arrows plunged into his scapula, belly and legs were plunged in so deep that it was possible to pull them out. In spite of his condition, nonetheless, he seemed calm based on his breathing.

The wounds insinuated that the person on the delivering end aimed to destroy him, yet barely any blood spilt from his revolting wounds, and there wasn’t much blood on the ground, either. Every fifteen minutes, his breathing would grow a little louder, and the louder echoes gave the impression he was returning to a healthy status. Every fifteen minutes, the size of his wounds would shrink. His every breath was akin to a fire blast, and the walls would’ve burnt if it wasn’t for these particular walls.

Besides the location being deep underground and having airways, the chief reason the summer heat didn’t reach the location was material of the four large walls. It was believed that “blackice walls” were a product from Beihai’s Clear Mirror Palace as only they possessed the matchless naturally cold material, blackice iron, and workmans.h.i.+p to place it in ice gus’ unique temperature-control rocks.

Adding living organisms into weapons was a secret technique that Tang Clan employed, but it spread to the northern regions after Tang Clan split into two groups. Bright Mirror Palace made a frigid region their home, which enabled them to design new products that leveraged materials they wouldn’t have otherwise obtained.

Ice gus, which were a new creation of Bright Mirror Palace after arriving in Beihai, had the ability to indiscriminately emit cold qi and feasted on a specialty of Beihai – skypine rocks. The gus usually hibernated, only waking once every few years. Although they had an enormous appet.i.te, they only consumed a centimetre each time. Blackice walls contained enough skypine rock for a gu to eat for six centuries.

Including ice iron into the walls affixed the gus locations and their feeding locations. Bright Mirror Palace shut up their doubters when they successfully included ice iron into the walls without ruining the ice iron attribute or thickening the walls, allowing them to synthesise the three materials. A wall made through that method could sustain its chill for a respectable amount of time in a desert, so it was reasonable for a film of ice to form on it when placed in the shade during summer.

To no one’s surprise, such an innovative creation was popular among socialites, n.o.bility, and the such all the way in the south wanted to get their hands on a blackice wall for summer. The likes of even Tiezhen’s monarch sent out an invite to Bright Mirror Palace and sent emissaries to try purchasing it, not for heat relief, but to flaunt their power. Even so, the majority of hopefuls never even had the privilege to lay their eyes on a blackice wall.

The chill of the walls controlled the man’s hot exhales, torturing him.

“Still hurt?” He sounded as if he was pa.s.sing by and saw his shackled friend. “You didn’t have to rip all the antique paintings and calligraphy I placed in this room for you even if you didn’t want to see them. Look at this: this is the only copy of Xu Xiexiu’s hand-written scripture from the former dynasty. I placed this here to help you calm down, yet you’re so violent.”

Despite what he said, he picked up the burnt book with only four characters still legible and mumbled to himself, “His handwriting really is a work of art. Twenty-thousand taels for it was reasonable,” then tossed it to the ground mindlessly.

“What’s that? Release you? I can’t do that. I sacrificed several competent men just to capture you last time. I’m not suffering another loss. That’s no way to do business.”

Typically, people were incarcerated underground or in a body of water; places one wouldn’t be able to see sunlight. This place resembled a graceful scholar’s room. For example, the short stringed instrument that was smashed into the shape of a wooden barrel was crafted by a respected artisan in Tiezhen.

“I have no intention of framing you. Think about how much money I’ve invested in you. Would I ruin you? Well, I am rather generous with people I set up. I wouldn’t get involved if they weren’t worth my time and money, though, right?” He threw a scroll onto the ground and continued, “These are worthless. What I spent on you is what’s called invaluable,” he said whilst looking at the arrows in his captive.

In the legs of the captive were “qingluan blood arrows”, an ancient weapon that emitted an ominous aura no matter how many years past. Anyone who could afford them had enough money to use to stone someone to death with coins. The name of the arrows was based off the fact that the arrows were lathered in qingluans’ blood. In addition, there was a legend that claimed anyone who came into contact with a qingluan’s blood would die on the spot, so one of those arrows were lethal no matter where it hit. Those who weren’t foolish enough to believe it was the power of a curse knew that it was due to venom. One arrow would’ve gone for hundreds of thousands on the black market, yet this person had dozens of them in his possession. In spite of all the wasted or ruin expensive items, Feng Jiutian didn’t bat an eye.

Feng Jiutian went over and, with one foot on the captive’s face, used both hands to yank out an arrow, taking flesh, skin and bones along with it. The anaesthetic that was injected into the captive every hour prevented him from las.h.i.+ng out.

Nodding as he scrutinised the old bloodstains on the arrow, Feng Jiutian remarked, “You should suffer as much if you’re going to have the honour of being stabbed with this arrow, you cursed phoenix.”

Two men hurriedly entered the room to fetch the arrow from Feng Jiutian and urged him to return to the art area, where he was safe from the monster.

“Li Chengzhi wants to escape?” questioned Feng Jiutian, subsequent to hearing his subordinate’s report.

Feng Jiutian didn’t mind losing all his investments in Li Chengzhi as there were bound to be losses somehow in one’s business career, not to mention he, too, gained a number of privileges from Li Chengzhi. That being said, Feng Jiutian was curious how things would’ve played out had Li Chengzhi been successful in his revolt. Since Li Chengzhi was finished, Feng Jiutian wanted to collect his interest.

“He’s lived a life of glory for a little too long, though I have to give it to me for being able to incite more chaos at the barrack than I expected. Well, that just makes him less desirable, as well. Isn’t this perfect? Who better than him to be a scapegoat? Tell the others that it’s time for Chengkong to go. Also, clean up here and swap everything out for new stuff.”

While Feng Jiutian’s two subordinates were used to his wasteful nature, who were they to object?

“Wait, it’s a waste to throw the scripture away. I’ll take it. I’ll see if I can find someone who can repair it. By the way, give him the last three qingluan arrows, too.”

The captive widened his glowing eyes as Feng Jiutian’s men plunged the last three arrows him, reacting as if two forces clashed, tore him apart, and then he underwent a repair process. Every time a qingluan arrow was stabbed into him, the birth of the “monster” came nearer.

The “monster” only had a lifespan of a few days, not because of its’ host’s lifespan or an ancient soul awakening, but an inherited aggression born from madness.

Feng Jiutian watched the “monster” grow new skin from split skin, perish due to being unable to support itself and then revive until it found an equilibrium that allowed its life to persist. Subsequently, he said, “You know, I could do anything I want in the Central Plain with the amount of money I invested in you, and it’s also enough to get me off the hook for anything, including treason. Yet, you’re a disappointment. This why everyone but I have abandoned. I’m going to invest even more money in you. My argument is that, you’re not useless; you just didn’t have enough money invested in you. Qingluans’ blood is venomous to everyone except for you, correct?”

The captive was perfectly human before the arrows were plunged into his body, which triggered the mutation. Feng Jiutian was initially disappointed when he saw the captive crumble, but he changed his tune once he witnessed his captive’s revival. From then on, he repeated the process of stabbing his captive with a qingluan blood arrow, extracting it, and then repeating the process.

A lack of sanity didn’t mean a lack of pain. As a matter of fact, the pain only worsened for the captive each cycle. Although Nirvana and qingluans shared the same blood origins, they weren’t able to synthesise perfectly. The mutual rejection of the two blood sources amplified the pain he suffered. He naturally resisted when it hurt, but the stronger he grew, the more it hurt. The freaky wounds on him were the product of his resistance. Additionally, Feng Jiutian discovered that, the more pain he was in, the more power he obtained. Once the captain roared in a deep and sonorous voice, Feng Jiutian knew he had reached the right intensity.

Nirvana’s blood and the qingluan blood’s resistance to each other had maxed out, so the captive’s life was at stake if it wasn’t dealt with. Nirvana’s unique ability had helped him survive until then, but even that had its limits. Therefore, Feng Jiutian needed to retrieve the piece of jade.

“Right, we need to retrieve the jade piece. You know what to do.”

“… What do I do?” the captive asked in a raspy voice that echoed off the walls.

Feng Jiutian knew he finally obtained the violent power. “Kill Ming Feizhen.”

“Kill… Ming Feizhen?”

“Kill Ming Feizhen.”

“Kill Ming Feizhen… Kill Ming Feizhen! Kill… Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill Ming Feizhen! Kill Ming Feizhen!”

Feng Jiutian smiled. “Relax. I will prepare a proper stage for you.”

Glossary

Qingluan – A mythical phoenix-like bird.

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