Book 2: Chapter 14: Explosion Science

Book 2: Chapter 14: Explosion Science

Things had slowed down after my discussion with the village head, when I had been forced to tackle a few important questions. How would I defend the village through winter? Money was the lesser of the issues, and a long-term concern instead, but winter was just around the corner.

A horde of demonic beasts frenzied out on the winter solstice would need more than just a few cultivators. Even if I went full demon mode, there’s no guarantee I’d be able to last something like that out.

At the end, the solution I came up with was simple. If I couldn’t defend them, then I’d make them capable of defending themselves.

The air flickered and danced in front of me. Sparks spewed out, emitted by various fire spirit herbs in the cauldron. I stirred an iron ladle through the contents, crushing up little chunks of the herbs any time I noticed them, while simultaneously guiding the fire.

The temperature in the room rose rapidly as I worked, watching the fire herbs hiss and bubble as the rising heat turned the iron cauldron red. For a moment, I was concerned about an explosion, but I channelled my Qi, letting the fire essence focus inwards. Slowly, but surely, the herbs began to mix as I stirred. After they’d mixed enough, I grabbed the last bits of spirit grass and added it in.

Red hot fire essence surged, glowing brightly like molten lava within the cauldron. A powerful jet of flaming liquid shot outwards and I ducked back, trying my best not to lose control. Eventually the herb mingled in forming a pill at the centre of the cauldron. I let out a breath, glancing to my side to see Nyan lazily sitting nearby and watching me work.

I was surprised the heat and flames hadn’t scared the cat away, but then, Nyan had always been mysterious. Taking note of my attention, he walked over to where I was, and rubbed himself against my leg.

Dishing out a good dosage of pets and scritches onto the orange sassy furball, I returned to the pill I’d formed. Picking the burning hot pill up, I stared at it with narrowed eyes, trying to determine if I’d obtained what I wanted to. Only a test would tell.

Setting the pill on the counter, I took out a blade and scraped a small amount out, before curshing it into a powder. I scraped the pinch of powdered I’d gathered into a little porcelain dish, and walked through the scattered mess of boxes that covered my half-constructed lab. Though a far cry from the alchemy pill churning factory I was hoping to turn it into I’d still made quite some progress, the primary bit of which was figuring out my equivalent of a bunsen burner. I could not exactly get a flow of gas going for it, or set up an industry that did not even exist, so I’d been forced to improvise.

My version, which I’d named Hydro-electric burner ran a lightning, and a water spirit crystal. The key of the puzzle had been figuring out how to use the crystal to naturally gather water, instead of water Qi. Turned out, that was a simple matter of letting water condense around the crystal due to its nature.

A pulse of Qi would circulate electricity from the lightning crystal, the lightning would turn the water gathered by the water crystal into hydrogen and oxygen across the two copper plates attached to the crystal, which would flow into the central chamber with the flames, igniting with a flame that was devoid of almost any Qi.

There were still some issues to work out, but it was a mostly functional prototype. Turning the hydro-electric burner on, I watched the sharp blue colored flames stream out. I set my dish of porcelain with the new drug made powder atop, and waited.

I watched quietly as the powder began to heat up, starting to crack and pop and stir. After a minute or two of heating, smoke began to rise, and I found my hopes renewed. Yet, things were not meant to be. The powder set itself on flames, burning slowly with thick smoke filled with fire essence streaming out. I set down the flaming powder, putting the flames out, and let out a sigh.

This had been my seventh failed attempt at making a drugnade that could be used as a replacement for gunpowder or black powder. Having an explosive was pretty nice, but the fact that it could be remotely triggered with Qi by anyone, even an enemy, made it less than ideal as a weapon. I was also far from satisfied from the lack of explosive reaction as the current drugnades had a tendency to instead create whirlpools of flame instead. Rather than drugnades, it was more appropriate to call them drug-flame-tornadoes. Bit of a mouthful if you asked me.

Nyan walked over to the counter where I was working, sniffing the burnt powder of the fire pile. After a moment or two of inspection as I pet the cat once more, it decided to lick the powder. One taste was enough to find the pill too spicy for the cat, as it hacked and coughed, before returning to its lounging destination, now watching my pills with a wary gaze.

I smiled, feeling slightly better as I returned to my pills. I had hoped that I would be able to create something that could ignite with heat, flames or a spark, and use much more conventional methods to create potential weapons. Things I knew I would need, if I wanted to protect the people here, for the eventual changes to come. It wasn’t just cultivators that were a concern, having weapons would allow the mortals of the village to fight back against spirit beasts as well. And if Silver Fang ever tried to target those close to me, I wanted them armed.

But so far, all my attempts had either exploded because they were unstable, or didn’t explode because they were unreactive to heat.

I let out a sigh, putting away the porcelain dish when the door creaked open behind me. I didn’t really need to turn to see who’d just walked in, but did so anyway.

“Hey granny, Yin. Sorry about the mess,” I apologised to the two standing at the entrance to the chamber, as I watched their gaze go through the chaos scattered all around.

The granny snorted, stepping over a pile of stashed porcelain bowls and plates I’d asked Chen to deliver that I’d just left on the floor for some reason. “You need to keep your things better organised boy, or you’ll never be an Alchemist of any worth.”

I grimaced at her words, taking a second glance at the chaos. “You’re right, I do. I’ve just been busy with everything.”

“Excuses, bah,” the old granny said, rapping her fist against my chest. I smiled at her apologetically, watching Yin carefully walk around all the delicate items scattered around as she made her way to me. She carried a basket full of herbs in her hand that I’d specially requested from the Qi vein. Zhang or one of the others likely had taken that job.

Yin stood nearby, her eyes watching my hands move around in fascination, and I realised how this must look to her. I was moving this entire cauldron’s contents with just my Qi, it responded to my will and my guidance, bubbling and hissing with heat and essence. To her, this was mysterious, and wondrous, unfamiliar yet captivating. The very same emotions I’d felt when first observing the magic Alchemy had.

A smile came to my face as I continued to stir my Qi into the caldron, as the water evaporated, leaving only flaming essence swirling within the cauldron.

“Step back,” I instructed Yin, as I picked up the last herb to add. I tore off the edge of a lightning ginseng’s root, before crushing it in a bowl. Crackles of lightning zapped my hand, making my fingers tingle lightly, as the lightning Qi stored within began to escape. Not wanting to lose too much of it, I quickly transferred the ginseng into the cauldron.

The reaction afterwards was instantaneous. Lightning cracked within the flames, as they began to bubble rapidly. It was un-tempered, and furious, pure Yang energy that wished to lash out unchecked. I let it course, let it flow around, swirling in circular motions to stir inside the cauldron, yet the reaction was rapid, as the cauldron itself began to shake.

Sweat beaded my forehead as I watched the flames start to gush out the edges, dripping over like flowing magma, as the lightning began to crackle harder and harder. I poured my Qi in, trying to push back down, but that only seemed to worsen the effect.

Apparently having had enough, Nyan turned around and leapt from the counter, dashing away, and I knew it was too late to stop what was to come.

“Get away!” I screamed.

Chi flooded my feet, as the world warped around me. I grabbed Yin into my arms as I moved to the other side. The next moment, a powerful explosion rocked the ground beneath me, followed by the sound of shattering porcelain.

Yin yelped, clutching her ears as I covered her shoulder, protecting her with my body. We stayed crouched for a moment longer, as the shockwave passed, before I let go of the girl and turned back around to see the damage.

My burner laid broken, porcelain dishes shattered and scattered all over. A section of the lab was aflame where the cauldron had flipped over, pouring its burning contents out.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed out in English without thinking, watching the explosion. Yet, even at the disastrous scene, I could feel a joy rising inside of me. The explosion had worked! The lightning essence had provided the explosive energy needed to create a working explosive material. All I needed to do was stabilise the formula, and then figure out a way to prevent unintentional activation by enemies, and I had a weapon that I could give any cultivator, even a first realm one.

A whimper broke me out of my thoughts, and I almost cursed again, turning back to Yin. “Are you okay?” I asked the girl, who continued to look back at me, with wide eyes. Tears filled in her beady eyes as she looked at me with a terrified expression, and I felt guilt wrack my heart.

“I’m really sorry, I hope you aren’t hurt,” I said in as gentle a voice as I could manage, extending a hand towards her.

The girl snapped out of her daze, wiping her eyes. “I-I’m fine. Apologies,” she whispered back, before her eyes returned to me, a strange emotion reflecting off her face.

“Where did you... learn those words?” she asked, her voice wavering midway.

I looked at her, confused, unsure of what she meant. “That I’m sorry?”

Yin shook her head. “The other language. Not of the empire,” she asked, and my eyes widened in surprise.

“Ah, that— Well. It’s the language I grew up with, the one of my previous home,” I replied to Yin, feeling a strange nostalgia wash over me. “I’m afraid I can’t really go back anymore, it’s a very far place.”

I turned towards Yin, and found tears flowing down her eyes as she stared at me. I watched the girl, confused, when all of a sudden she moved towards me, grasping my hands in her own.

“I... I was right. You are from there. From his home,” Yin said, her voice heavy.

I found my voice stuck in my throat as I stared at the girl, not because of what she’d said, but because of the language she'd said it in.

Yin had just talked in English.