17 Visions in the Dark

A man was walking in the darkness. He had been walking in this straight line for as long as he could remember. He sometimes ventured to the left and to the right as the need arose, but he was sure that his line was straight, while everything else weaved around him. He had a direction, so he was always in the right place. He had guidance, so he was always on the right side. He had the Sight, so he was always on time. What more could he ask for?

The darkness slowly faded as he walked through what seemed to be a picture frame formed purely from golden runes. The darkness was slowly painted a dark blue hue and speckled with bright white spots shining in the distance. Stars, stars he recognized. The shining white specks formed constellations in what seemed to be a clear blue sky. Familiar constellations appeared in the sky: the Warrior, signaling that war was on the horizon; the Serpent, signaling that evil was on the rise and would be victorious; and finally, his own personal star, the Seer, nestled closely to another constellation, the King. This was not all he could see, of course. The Sight was a wonderful thing, and these dreams that other people might ignore gave him countless insights on the path that he should take.

Soon the starry skies became a backdrop for the plentiful forest that surrounded him. The forest was teeming with life, and various creatures wandered around in the distance. They didn't dare get close to the man or anywhere near his path. This was his world, and it was suicide to obstruct him.

The man was soon walking along a raging river, his black eyes focusing on a sturdy wooden bridge erected across rusty-looking red cliffs. It was a long way down to the river below, and not many people could survive a fall from such a height.

The man continued walking until the surrounding forest lost its lustre, its vitality. The lush woods became dry and gnarled, their twisted figures seeming as though they were wailing in despair and bemoaning their cruel fate. The padded forest floor, which had previously been covered in layers of leaves and mulch, was now dusted with a black powder; this black powder was constantly swept around by winds, and these winds could not seem to find their way. As he tried to peer farther into the woods, his penetrating bright red pupils were obstructed by a thick layer of white mist.

The man frowned. He could not see further. Neither could he walk farther, or at least, his footsteps would not take him farther down the path. Strange. This rarely happened. There were not many things in this world that could obscure the Sight.

The man shrugged as he stepped off in a different direction. This time, he stepped straight out of the current picture frame and into another. This picture frame was very familiar to him, and he could always come here if he needed more clarity. This was his very own painting, his own space.

He walked through a familiar room and passed a desk he often frequented. He could always tell when something was his, as it carried a special aura that belonged only to him. The aura on these objects was connected to him through tiny white strings that ran back toward him through any obstacle. Only those with the Sight could see these strings.

He continued through the room until he reached a long hallway. The hallway followed a much larger white string and opened into a large, dimly lit room. He walked toward the center of the room and stopped just shy of the middle. With a wave of his hand, a line seemed to tear through space. This line expanded into a twenty-foot-wide silver circle that floated in the air. The silver circle was blank and did not reflect anything else in the room.

"Mirror Spirit, show me what I need to know," the man muttered softly. He then sat down cross-legged and peered into the large mirror, which was now covered in darkness. Two stars appeared, and they grew brighter and brighter with every moment. Then several other stars appeared in the sky. He could tell at a glance that these stars only appeared under the support of the two main stars. If these stars disappeared, these other, minor stars would fade away into the darkness. Above them, a constellation manifested itself in all its bright glory and formed a crow, which flew away as it sensed trouble off in the distance. Crows were attracted to danger. They were also attracted to opportunity.

The two stars continued to grow brighter, and soon they seemed like a brilliant sun, giving life to everything in the cold, dark world. These suns soon solidified and became silver coins. The coin on the left had a bright white rim that shimmered with five colors. In the middle, he could make out a bright pentagram. The pentagram was darker than emptiness itself.

The coin on the right, on the other hand, was marked with the symbol for yin and yang. Eight trigrams surrounded this symbol, forming every combination of three broken and unbroken. As he saw this dazzling coin, he knew that if he simply picked it up and put it in his pocket, he would gain an unimaginable fortune. However, there were also thin razor edges on the sides of the coin, threatening to bite into anyone who dared to snatch it.

Suddenly, a large crack appeared on the coin, and it expanded until the coin seemed as though it could shatter at any moment. As the coin started to shatter, its companion coin began to shine brightly as it moved to stabilize the breaking coin. The man frowned as he saw these coins come together, threatening to merge and become one. He could tell that if they fused together, he would never be able to obtain the lucky coin on the right. If he did not grasp the breaking coin, however, it would be lost forever. If he tried to grasp it, he had to be careful not to cut himself on its sharp edges.

As he reached out for the coin, a white mist appeared and obstructed his hand. He could no longer see it or the other coin or the crow or any of the other stars in the sky. All he could see now was a clear blue sky on silver mirror. The sky was free from any contamination, like a fresh empty canvas just waiting to be painted.

--

A man wearing bright white robes suddenly awoke from his meditative trance. He was not shocked by the sudden vision, as these visions had come and gone frequently ever since he had obtained the Sight. Unfortunately, this vision had come at a very bad time. Several plans were currently in motion, and he didn't have many available pawns he could dispatch to take advantage of this potential opportunity. Or prevent this potential danger.

After a few minutes of pondering, the man got up and walked over to his desk. There was an inconspicuous black notebook on his desk. He sat down and opened the notebook, flipping through the pages until he found a specific blank page. He then picked up a writing brush and wrote a message.

"My dearest brother, something has come up. A great danger, but a great opportunity. There's no one else I trust for this. Can you gather a sizeable force of trusted men and head to these coordinates? I'll fill you in on the details as you journey. Time is precious."

After waiting for several minutes, a reply appeared right below his original writing. The writing was sharp, incisive, and clearly not written by someone gifted in calligraphy.

"I'm tied up now. I can be ready in two weeks. Will that work?"

The man in white gnashed his teeth as he read the reply. This was too important! Unfortunately, his brother had always been liked this, detached and aloof. There was also no one else to use. After pondering for a moment, he wrote his reply.

"That works perfectly. Remember, only use people you can trust. Please keep me posted on your progress. I'll be performing auguries daily to guide your actions. Fate is uncertain."

After writing the message, he closed the book and slipped it into his bag of holding. He had so little time, and so many things to do. Perfect planning required great effort, after all. What would he ever do without the Sight? What would he ever do without his straight path? The vision was now forced to the back of his mind as various calculations ran through his mind. The mesh of perfect plans tightened and solidified. The great web that he had been weaving for the past few weeks was almost flawless. All he needed now was time.

--

Cha Ming was currently seated in a dimly lit cultivation room. He occupied a slightly deeper room in the cultivation pavilion than before, thanks to his recent increase in cultivation. This cultivation room was a little bigger than his previous one; it came complete with a training dummy, which he assumed would be able to handle the maximum output of any student at the third level of qi condensation.

He had been sitting in his room only a few hours ago, practicing talismans as usual. The delivery he had been expecting from the auction house had come a lot sooner than expected, just six hours after he placed his order. The delivery boy was extremely nervous, to the point that he had almost dropped the package from his shaking hands. Cha Ming managed to calm him down and secure the package, after which the trembling boy bowed deeply and ran off into the distance. Most likely the boy had been warned that he was a VIP. Unfortunately, the warning had the opposite effect, almost leading to the destruction of the package. After the boy had finally left, Cha Ming inspected the contents of the package and swiftly made his way over to the cultivation pavilion. He was very excited to start training his new technique.

Cha Ming first sat on the training mat and circulated his qi for half a day, until he felt no further progress in his cultivation. Once he achieved his peak condition, he retrieved the five scrolls for each of the Soul Pearl manifestation techniques. All five techniques were quite similar and involved a soul pearl refinement process, a control technique, and advanced control techniques for each level of mastery.

The refinement of the soul pearls was not a necessary component for the technique. If someone lacked these skills, they would be able to have them refined by someone else. However, the crafting process itself imbued the pearls with a portion of the crafter's spiritual energy. Refining one's own pearls would ensure that they were fully compatible, and cultivating the technique afterward would reap twice the rewards for half the effort.

While Cha Ming had never inscribed an item before, he found that the process was almost identical to crafting talismans. The only difference between the two was that he was now painting a three-dimensional item. The special ink applied, while it would not burst out with the strength of a proper talisman, would permanently strengthen the item and provide a conduit for any qi imbued within the pearls. Soul pearls were far too fragile. Fully refining the soul pearls would ensure that they could not be damaged through normal means. They would gain the defensive power of a mortal-ranked magic item.

There were a few options available for each element. For example, water could heal, make defensive barriers, harness cold, etc. He split them up into offensive, defensive, and auxiliary functions that made sense according to each element.

The first inscription talisman he started with was the Frost Mist inscription. A general Frost Mist inscription was too powerful for his level and too expensive, so he had to lessen the inscription by adding low-grade characters. The grade-three inscription was much more affordable. Cha Ming had been surprised to find out that any failed inscriptions would simply vanish from the pearls, saving him the grief of trying to recover a failed component.

Any ink used could not be recovered and simply vanished into thin air. He failed his first ten attempts but succeeded on the eleventh. The final refined pearl had a chilly metallic sheen to it. It had taken on a baby blue color and was covered in a white frost. After examining the pearl for a few moments, he threw it into the practice dummy. As soon as it landed, an extremely cold mist spread out from the area around the dummy, covering the room in frost. It was his qi, of course. He could choose who it affected.

Pleased with his success, he retrieved the pearl and stored it in his bag of holding. He then continued his momentum and made eleven more of the same pearls, exhausting half his supply of inscription ink. After he finished the Frost Mist pearls, he moved on to the low-grade silver piercing pearls. These pearls looked metallic. The pearl penetrated deep into the dummy after he threw it. Fortunately, these dummies were made user-friendly and eventually spat out the pearl it had absorbed.

The mid-grade earth pulse pearl was quite different from the first two. It took on an earthy yellow color, and it did not pierce through the target as efficiently as the silver pearl. Instead it stopped at the surface, after which a vibrational pulse traveled through the whole dummy. This pearl was designed to generate a shock wave that penetrated armor and damaged the internal organs of the target.

The cinnabar blaze pearls were red and produced a small explosion of flame roughly one meter in diameter upon impact. The emerald regeneration pearls were a little trickier to test. He finally resolved to tear a gash in his arm, after which he gently applied the pearl to his arm and directed wood qi into it. The skin around the pearl took on an emerald hue as the wound on his arm started to close at a rapid pace. As soon as his wounds were completely healed up, the pearl fell off on its own. The process was completely painless.

Cha Ming now possessed a full set of sixty pearls. He would refine the other ones later as he made progress with the technique. With a wave of his hand, the sixty pearls he had just refined floated into the air and joined the other forty-eight white pearls. The pearls joined together into a rosary, as though they were connected by an invisible thread. Cha Ming wrapped the rosary around his arm and sat down to recover his qi and spiritual energy.

The next step in the process was training his spiritual control. At last, he would finally learn to apply his spiritual energy outside of talisman crafting!