PtM Book 14 - Chapter 32: Unexpected Developments

3/5 this week. It's a bit short, but a lot happens.

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Cha Ming spent a week in Titanvale, but apparently, that was far too long for the Frost Lotus Sect. Cha Ming had to postpone his trip to Signstone and return to Desert’s Blessing. “I was there for months. Months! If there was a problem, couldn’t they have just asked me when I was there?”

Desert’s Blessing had not changed much during his absence. After all, how much could possibly change in a week’s time? Things were relatively peaceful in the city, in no small part to his God-Slaying Talismans.

This only made Cha Ming’s arrival at the Frost Lotus Sect even more confusing. The compound was unusually quiet, and the many students and sect members who lived there had been confined to their dormitories. The enthusiasm that had been cultivated over the past two months was absent.

Elder Glacial Blade met Cha Ming at the front gate. “Old man,” Cha Ming greeted.

“Welp,” Glacial Blade shot back. They broke into a grin. “Thanks for rushing back so quickly, Clear Sky.”

“I didn’t have any context, but by the looks of it, I should have returned sooner.” Glacial Blade led him into the compound, and Cha Ming made some inquires along the way. “What happened? Was there an attack? Did Daoist Three Lives finally blow up the lab?” He looked around and did not see any missing or wounded Daoists.

“Just follow me to see the Sect Master,” Glacial Blade said. “It’s not something I’m at liberty to explain.” Cha Ming nodded and picked up the pace. They flew down the tight streets and even past a few buildings to save time, directly entering via a side door in the garden adjacent to the Sect Master’s modest residence.

They passed a few elders discussing sect matters in hushed tones over tea, though the discussion stopped when they neared. Cha Ming wasn’t new to people keeping secrets, but it had been a while since he’d gotten the silent treatment.

“Clear Sky!” a voice called out. It was none other than Frozen Rain. She did not seem exhausted or frightened as he expected. Instead, she seemed… excited? Her mood stood in stark contrast to the dour mood outdoors.

She led them both into her father’s office. The elders had been deep in a heated conversation, but their indignation soon gave way to shock, then a strange reverent expression that thoroughly confused him.

They all left the room, leaving only an older man that shared facial features with both Frozen Thorn and Frozen Rain. Like them, he’d clearly exhausted his lifespan to increase his potential. The elderly man was a middle law-stitching cultivator with a foot in the grave. Such a cultivation was very respectable for a Daoist in the Mendin republics.

“Finally, you came,” Frozen Thorn said. “No time for pleasantries today, I’m afraid. Let’s get straight to it. Would you care to join us, Grand Elder?”

“Why not?” the white-haired man said. There was no sneak attack with aphrodisiac, or joking, or even teasing. Cha Ming was confused, but he could only follow in silence.

Frozen Thorn used his law projection to tear a path into the void. He stabilized the void around himself as he entered, allowing all four of them to follow him without risk. Doing such a thing was tricky, and required exquisite control.

They didn’t travel far and stopped upon reaching a patch of void marked by a dull rune, whereupon Frozen Thorn tore open another pathway into the material realm. They entered an underground stone hall not that far out from Desert’s Blessing. There were no windows or obvious entrances. It could only be entered by those who knew how to get here via void space.

Cha Ming was surprised to discover the place filled with junior Daoists. They were training here under the guidance of rune gathering cultivators and even law-stitching elders. It didn’t take him long to discover who they were and what was special about them.

“They’re all painted Daoists,” Cha Ming said. There were a hundred and sixty of them in total.

“That’s right,” Frozen Thorn said.  “They’re easy to tell apart because of how their domains slosh about like paint. If you look closely, the qi they manipulate resembles ink as well, and the way they weave it looks like brush strokes.”

He identified one of them right away as Peony Gao, a Mendin-raised wood and fire cultivator with a penchant for alchemy. Her alchemist’s domain was unique, and Cha Ming had noticed it when they’d originally awakened her cultivation. She was one of the original ten Painted Daoists.

“I take it the state of the Frost Lotus Sect is related to the Painted Daoists?” Cha Ming asked.

“Why else would they haul me out of seclusion?” the Grand Elder said in an aggrieved tone.

Frozen Thorn scowled. “You were already out of seclusion and playing Angels and Devils with all your spare time.”

“We all have our hobbies,” the Grand Elder said defensively. “You never know at my age which day will be your last. You need to make every second count.”

“Their training seems to be coming along,” Cha Ming said. “Their domain control is good, even though the power isn’t up to par.” He nodded appreciatively at a duo sparring not far away. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“They’re little monsters,” Glacial Blade said. “They learn much quicker than normal Daoists.”

Cha Ming shrugged. “They’re extremely weak compared to rune carving Daoists of the same grade. You can’t have everything.”

Frozen Thorn nodded. “We believe this has something to do with us bypassing the universe’s laws. The Rune Carving Realm is reached by resonating with higher level laws in the universe, which facilitate the carving. The universe then facilitates the carving and even provides energy for it, even though that amount is only sufficient for a minority of cases.”

“Their learning speed is approximately ten times faster than the average Daoist,” Frozen Rain said. “They are also quite capable of learning any on-element crafts and techniques.”

“But that’s not why you called me here,” Cha Ming said. “Nor why you locked down your clan.” All of these things were good news, but they were also exactly what they’d expected.

“You’re right, we wouldn’t lock down the clan for such a thing,” Frozen Thorn agreed.

He led them closer to a small group of practitioners. The group had the most elders fluttering about like concerned avian parents. One of them was Peony Gao, and the others he did not recognize. The group practiced a variety of elements, but they all had one thing in common, which was that they’d gained their abilities via the white rune-gathering-grade talismans.

“There are only a few variant domains,” Cha Ming observed. “Most domains are still the standard five. Any learning problems or inconsistencies?”

“They all learn at the same rapid rate,” Frozen Thorn said, smiling lightly. “Of course, that changes as they grow. You can’t expect someone at the initial rune carving stage to learn as quickly as someone at the early rune carving stage, after all. Or should I say the early rune painting stage? That’s what we started calling it.”

“Their learning rate should at least double, but I imagine that would depend on their talent,” Cha Ming said, nodding. Then he froze. “Would you mind repeating what you said earlier?”

“I said you can’t expect someone at the initial rune carving stage to learn as quickly as someone in the early rune carving stage,” Frozen Thorn repeated. His smile had faded, and his eyes were shining with a dangerous light.

“Ah,” Cha Ming said. Well. That explained the strange looks those elders had given him. Creating something like Painted Daoists was one thing, but this…

He began paying close attention to each of the Painted Daoists. He took careful note of their cultivations, their cores, their energy patterns, and everything else. “You didn’t say anything a week ago before I left.”

“That…” Frozen Thorn said, scratching the back of his head.

Two elders came forward. They bowed and shouted in unison. “Please forgive us!”

“This was apparently discovered two months ago,” Frozen Thorn said apologetically. “Peony was practicing her alchemy, which involved cycling her energy often and replenishing her qi pools. Her qi pool suddenly expanded, allowing her to break into the early rune painting stage.”

“We didn’t think it was a big deal,” one of the elders said. “We continued supervising everyone in isolation as instructed and decided to give the juniors some cultivation resources while we were at it. They kept growing, and two of them even broke through to the middle rune painting stage.”

“As for the rest of us, we were distracted by your antics up above,” Frozen Thorn said. “I practically forgot all about this project. It was only when you left that I returned to see how things were going. Imagine my surprise.”

Cha Ming beckoned to one of the Painted Daoists. He obtained the young man’s permission and began inspecting his dantian in detail using his enhanced vision and spiritual senses.

The young man was one of the original Painted Daoists, and as such, Cha Ming was familiar with the runes that had been painted on his core. These initial runes were still there. What he was inspecting wasn’t these but the second set of runes that had painted themselves atop the originals. Runes he’d never instructed the talismans to paint in the first place.

They weren’t just normal runes, either. They were second order runes. They were an improvement on the original. Complementary. They were painted with the familiar natural ink that could be found every time it rained on the Inkwell Plane.

After confirming the runes and memorizing them, Cha Ming inspected the boy’s domain and found nothing amiss. It was weaker than a normal Daoists, just like a bronze ranker was also weaker than a Daoist. It wasn’t much different otherwise.

“How does it feel?” Cha Ming asked. “Cultivating, I mean.”

The boy shrugged. “It feels fine. I haven’t had any issues.”

“Does it feel like this is your limit?” Cha Ming ask. “Could you keep growing if you wanted to?”

He didn’t seem so sure about that, but an elder came to his rescue. “He’s been complaining about a stifling sensation we find occurs just prior to a breakthrough. It should only take him another week. As for how far he can go…” He winced. “The boy’s talent isn’t high, I’m afraid.”

Cha Ming eyed the elder coolly. “I sense some instability in his core. I realize that you’ve all been in a hurry to discover how far they can go, but that’s no reason to sacrifice their long-term prospects.”

The man paled. “I only did as instructed. Please forgive this lowly elder.”

“It’s my fault. I was impatient,” Frozen Thorn said. “The medicine we fed him to stimulate his growth won’t be harmful to his body, but it will take him some time to get rid of the pill toxins and achieve another breakthrough after this one.”

“I see,” Cha Ming said. He called another Painted Daoist over. He inspected each of their cultivations and found nothing amiss. “I now see the need for your discretion. This is very big news.”

“We sealed ourselves up the moment we made the discovery,” Frozen Thorn explained. “Then we poured resources into the entire group to see if we could obtain yet another breakthrough. Normally this would be very wasteful but…”

“…you wanted to know as soon as possible,” Cha Ming finished.

“Exactly,” Frozen Thorn said. “I think the results speak for themselves. The only question we have now is this: What are the limits of Painted Daoists? Can they reach the peak of the Rune Painting Realm? If so, can they reach the Rune Gathering or even Law-Stitching equivalent?”

The question sent a shiver down Cha Ming’s spine, and for a brief moment, he knew what Pandora felt after opening Pandora’s box and unleash all its demons and disasters.

“Are you alright?” Frozen Rain asked.

Cha Ming suppressed the chaotic fluctuations in his aura and calmed his state of mind. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Never in a million years would I have thought this would happen.”

Frozen Thorn furrowed his brow. “Did you not paint these talismans? Shouldn’t you know what they do?”

“Yes, I painted them,” Cha Ming answered. “But their creation wasn’t solely a product of my own work. There were complicating factors.” This was an upgraded version of the initial talismans he’d created, courtesy of Yu Wen’s Scales of Sanctity. He shivered when he remembered that there was still one other talisman in his possession, the Dao Origins Talisman. He didn’t know what the talisman was capable of, but he did know that it would be more what he was seeing now. Thousands of times more. On an unimaginable scale.

“Regardless, this is a huge step forward,” Frozen Thorn said. “Perhaps they won’t be able to progress pass this initial stage, but this far better than remaining as mortals.”

“They’ll never be as good as natural Daoists,” Cha Ming said. He wasn’t sure how he knew that. He just did.

“Who cares?” Frozen Rain said. “It’s far preferable to the status quo, Clear Sky. Moreover, I think you fail to realize the full implications. Out of a hundred mortals, only a single person might be able to carve their core. The odds for children born from Daoists are much higher, of course, but Daoists are notoriously infertile.”

Cha Ming shook his head. “They’ll never live as long.”

“And neither will I,” Frozen Rain said. “Nor will my father, or my grandfather, but that didn’t stop us from making that sacrifice.” She looked towards the group of Painted Daoists with hope-filled eyes. “When I see them, I see myself. They cultivate as quickly as I do, and they will die as young as I will. What’s more, this is strength they never could have gotten normally. They were weak, but now they are strong.”

Cha Ming frowned, then looked to Frozen Thorn. “So you think they can break through to the Rune Gathering Realm?”

“I don’t know,” Frozen Thorn said. “We won’t be able to evaluate the results without sufficient data points, though I have a feeling the talent disparity will be greater than normally observed.”

“Because they’re like rankers,” Cha Ming said.

“Exactly,” Frozen Thorn confirmed. “The population of rankers is much larger than the population of Daoists, but most of them stagnate at lower ranks. Few become silver rankers, and even fewer become gold rankers.”

Cha Ming considered this for a moment before posing the most pertinent question. “Should we really continue with these experiments? This seems extremely risky.”

This time, it was the Grand Elder who answered. “Of course, we should continue! These Painted Daoists were just a curiosity, a side project, but now, they’re the future of Daoism in Mendin!”

“At the very least, we’ll need another month of data,” Frozen Thorn said. “This will allow us to determine the effects of talent as well as determine what abilities and domain manifestations are possible. In the long term, we’ll naturally find out if they can reach the Rune Gathering Realm. Or should it be Ink Gathering?” He eyed Cha Ming. “Now I ask you, can you make us more talismans?”

Cha Ming closed his eyes and knew he would regret his next question. “How many do you need?”

The answer, it turned out, was three hundred, in addition to twenty-seven hundred more of the original five element talismans. They were going to create three thousand Painted Daoists. While the original five-element talismans weren’t nearly as interesting, they could be used to mask the overall success rate of the program. The talismans were relatively low grade, and he had plenty of low-grade ingredients. He could easily churn out this number in a day.

“We can’t support more than three hundred growth-capable experimental subjects,” Daoist Frozen Thorn said. “Not with the medicines we’ll be purchasing for them. The Frozen Lotus Sect had about fifty thousand members, although ninety-nine percent of them are only mortals.

The irony of the situation was that Cha Ming felt more conflicted about this than the invention of God-Slaying Talismans or God-Slaying Arrows. Those were just innovative weapons that would revolutionize an aspect of warfare.

As for these new Core Painting Talismans, they affected an entire stratum of society. It was changes like these that led to the rising and falling of nations.