CHAPTER
47
FEATHER SHIFT
JIEYUAN
—∞—
“And here we are,” Wanxin said, coming to a stop in four wide, squat, building three stories tall.
It was an angular, blocky constructions Blocky, in the style favored by the Radiant Gold Palace, but there was not a hint of brightgold—or gold, period—on it. Rather, it was white. And not the soft, understated white stone found throughout both Radiant Gold City and the Gleaming Stone Sect, but a shiny, pearly white, every inch of marble polished and treated.
Its entrance was a large, open entranceway, with a scarlet awning over it. The facade was similarly cast in rich red patterns, and over the awning was a large stone plaque that read, in scarlet calligraphy, Radiant Light Atelier.
Jieyuan knew the store, even if he hadn’t been there before. It was by far the most famous atelier in Radiant Street, owned by twins who’d left the Radiant Gold Sect, going unbound. It was a place his father had stayed very much so clear off. The owners had little love for their former sect.
The atelier was near the center of Radiant Street, in one of its most prestigious areas. Directly across it, on the other side of the street, was a large, sprawling, six-story-tall behemoth of pitch-black stone, the only chromal establishment in the city with a greater reputation. On it were golden patterns in the form of stars and moons. The Mysterious Night House, the city’s biggest chromal trade house.
They walked past the entranceway of the Radiant Light Atelier into a large, open hall. Although not particularly tall, it was considerably bigger than the training room back in the Gleaming Stone Palace.
Spread out inside were a few different groups of cultivators, walking around. Throughout the floor were several stands, in which different artifacts were on display. Similarly, there were shelves on the walls with artifacts on them. On the far back was a large stairway leading to the second floor.
Accompanying each group was a man or woman in white robes with scarlet-colored trimmings and designs. The atelier’s attendants. Near the side of the door was a group of similarly dressed men and women, and one of them immediately detached themselves and made their way over as soon as they stepped inside—only to pause, blinking, gawking, as he ran their gaze across their group, lingering a moment longer on Wanxin, who had an amused look on. Behind him, the other attendants shifted uneasily.
Looking panicked, the man turned back to the group he’d just left, just as an older woman stepped out from among them. Her robes, although also mostly white and red, seemed more elaborate than the others’. She nodded to the man who’d stepped forward earlier, and he looked terribly relieved as he made away for her before retreating to the gathered attendants.
“Friends of the Gleaming Stone Sect,” the woman said, approaching them. She stopped in front of Wanxin and gave a deep bow. “Protector Wanxin, Protector Yuyan. It is our honor to receive you.”
“Yes,” Wanxin said, not quite dismissive, but curter than Jieyuan ever remembered her being. “Are the twins in?”
The attendant was close enough that Jieyuan could perceive her with his increased soulsense now that he was a fourth-sign. She was mundane, as he’d expected.
“I’m afraid that Masters—”
“Protector Wanxin!” A woman called, coming down the stairwell, then striding over to them.
Wanxin looked past the attendant and smiled broadly. “Duolan! There you are!”
Duolan. That was the name of one of the owners of the atelier, one of the twins. Jieyuan paid more attention to the woman as she approached. One brother and one sister. Both were inscribers, though whereas the sister specialized in artifacts, the brother specialized in talismans.
After being around clan-borns so much—especially the Liangshibai and Meiyao and Daojue—it was easy to forget that not all cultivators looked so widely different from mundanes. Duolan would’ve been small even for a mundane woman, standing over a foot shorter than him, with a slight frame and short, black hair. She had on white robes, with a vibrant red lightcoat over it.
Duolan crossed the hall over to them in large strides. Arriving, she greeted Yuyan, and then all the remaining protectors by name in quick succession, before turning back to Wanxin, “You should have called ahead of time. My brother is in his workshop.”
She then gave the attendant a brief nod, who stepped back, but didn’t make to return to the other attendants, instead taking position behind Duolan. Duolan was in the attendant’s original position, close enough for Jieyuan to tell that she was a tenth-sign redsoul. If she seemed surprised by the size of their group, or discomfited by the elders’ bared weapons, she showed no sign of it.
“No need to call him over,” Wanxin said. “You’ll suffice just fine. We’re primarily here for armor and weapons. Though I think we’ll also be picking up a few talismans.”
The brother was arguably the most famous of the twins. It was from him that the Radiant Light Haven and Radiant Light Blast talismans had come from.
“Splendid!” Duolan clapped her hands. “Straight to my floor, then? Or would you rather take a look at some of our apprentices’ works?” She motioned to the stands and shelves distributed throughout the hall.
“Yours,” Wanxin said.
“Then up we go.” Duolan clapped her hands again. “Follow me?”
She took them straight through the hall, toward the stairway. Jieyuan took the opportunity to look around, brief as it was, eyes lingering on the display cases nearest to them as they walked by. Most of them held weapons or other artifact objects, but a few featured talismans. They were all too far off for him to use his soulsense on any of them, but he imagined they’d range from sixth-sign to tenth-sign Redsoul.
The second floor was much of the same, except there were fewer display cases and people around. The first floor was reserved for the works of the apprentices of the twins. The following floors, on the other hand, each belonged exclusively to one of the twins, the second floor being Duolan’s.
A quick look around told Jieyuan that the artifacts were grouped according to their type. Weapons of different sizes each forming little clusters, plus different groups for armor and artifact accessories. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets.
“Please look around, and do not hesitate to call me over if you’ve got any questions,” Duolan said.
Wanxin cast a quick look around the floor, before turning back and giving them all a brief nod. “Spread out as you please. Yunzhu, Yongyi, let’s find new swords for you two.”
She then walked off, both Yunzhu and Yongyi following her, and just behind them, two of the protectors that had come along.
By Jieyuan’s side, Meiyao scanned the floor before focusing on a particular spot. “I’ll be taking a look at the sabers,” she said, turning to him, before heading off. Both Yuyan and two more of the protectors tracked behind her.
Jieyuan, for his part, made straight for where the spears were, occupying a large section of the floor. Shadowing with were the remaining two core protectors.
There were ten different stands with spears. The display stands were marble pillars that stood about half his height, and fairly distanced from each other. Jieyuan could see a few other cultivators around the floor grabbing some of the weapons and giving them a few swings and thrusts.
Further in the back, on the wall, were shelves with more spears lined up. Less precious ones, he imagined, even if prime gears all the same. They were all made of gold, silver, copper, or some alloy of them. Prime gears, all of them.
Jieyuan didn’t know much about inscribing, but he did know that metals and gemstones were the most suitable materials for making inscribed artifacts. Out of the metals, iron, copper, silver, and gold—and their alloys, though they had poorer compatibility than pure metals—were the ones most compatible with inscripts, in that order.
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Steel was special because it didn’t need much when it came to weapons. In terms of properties like hardness, edge retention, and flexibility it was already as good as it got. Copper, silver, and gold were compatible with far more inscripts, but they also needed more inscripts to alter their basic properties to give them properties similar to those of steel. So steel was used for plain gears as a whole, whereas copper, silver, and gold were generally reserved for prime gears.
And sure enough, there wasn’t a single hint of steel around. The Radiant Light Atelier, as far as he knew, didn’t sell plain gears. It was beneath them.
He approached the spear closest to him. The spear was held horizontally by two metal support brackets extending from the stand, cradling its shaft. It had a golden blade and shaft, with a smattering of rubies where the head met the body. All over its body were elegant, carved patterns that served no purpose besides aesthetic ones, as far as he knew.
His soulsense told him that it was a tenth-sign Redsoul weapon, and through its spirit-song he got a sense for the many properties inscribed onto it. One, in particular, stood out, and from it, he got a sense of Destruction and Light.
Beneath the spear, between the supports, was a cube of jade. A jade book. Reaching out, he put a hand over it and channeled some chroma into it. Immediately a name appeared in his mind’s eye, Ruby Radiance, plus a list of its properties. It could be split, like most artifacts spears, and came with a single prime skill, which allowed its blade to emit the same, searing light that emanated from Radiant Light Blast Talismans, giving it the same destructive power.
Taking his hand off the jade book, he glanced down at the third-sign plain spear he was carrying, sheathed. It really was time he got an upgrade.
He picked up Ruby Radiance from the stand and held it for a moment, getting a feel for its weight. Heavy—much heavier than his steel spear—but nothing he couldn’t handle with aura-augmented strength.
He gave it a thrust, then some swings. He liked the feel of it in his hands. But just a few moves later he found himself thinking back to Daojue wielding Gleaming End, and the comparison immediately soured him. He kept at it, but soon he felt a hint of the same creeping, bitter feeling he got whenever he picked up a sword.
Frowning, he set Ruby Radiance back on its stand. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like this over spearmanship—more and more he’d been getting those spears lately, even more so with his constant simulations against Daojue—but it’d never struck so strongly.
He shook his head, then moved on to the next spear. This one was also at tenth-sign Redsoul and entirely golden, but a lighter shade of gold. An alloy, then. He checked its jade book and found that it was called Heavy Feather. Like Ruby Radiance, it had only a single prime skill, except Heavy Feather allowed its user to manipulate its weight—increasing or decreasing it by tenfold.
He gave it a trial run, using its prime skill to shift its weight as he swung it around. It took him no time at all to start getting the hang of it. Its prime skills interested him much more than Ruby Radiance’s. But just like earlier, he soon started thinking of Daojue, how much better Daojue was at spearmanship, and how so far Jieyuan hadn’t made any progress at all in bridging the gap between them.
Scowling now, Jieyuan put Heavy Feather back. A similar experience repeated itself with the next two spears he tried.
Enough. Jieyuan looked over to the wall, where an assortment of spears was shelved. It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked the spears he’d come so far, though. Heavy Feather, in particular, had really interested him. No. The problem seemed to be with spears as a whole.
It wasn’t to the point he couldn’t wield it—not nearly like how it was with swords—but… His gaze drifted over to the side. There was a neighboring set of shelves, featuring other types of pole-arms, mostly halberds and glaives. In front of it were a few stands with weapons of the same type. Not nearly as many of them as there were spears, but still a fair collection.
Maybe he could try branching out, trying other types of weapons? As he was still toying with the idea, his gaze landed on a particular weapon on display, still in the polearm section.
What was that?
Jieyuan walked over to the stand. It was a tenth-sign Redsoul polearm, but not of a type he’d ever seen before. And he was pretty certain of that, because he reckoned he’d have remembered one with a blade on both ends. Single-edged blades at that, with the slightest hint of a curve, like those of a glaive. In fact, it was essentially a double-bladed glaive.
The entire weapon, tip to butt, was made from a pale shade of gold, the same as Heavy Feather. Made from the same alloy, he imagined. It was one whole, unbroken piece. He didn’t care much for the decorative etchings on its shaft, which were meant, as far as he could tell, to resemble feathers, or the other adornments on it—a crest near each blade, like an inverted crown, and the swirly, oil-like, crescent patterns on the blades. It made it look more like a decoration than a weapon. But it was hardly a dealbreaker, either, and he was far more interested in its function than its form.
With his soulsense, Jieyuan noticed the pair of protectors watching over him move a little. Turning back, he saw Duolan striding over, looking at him. She gave the two protectors a nod as she walked past them, stopping by his side.
“A curious weapon, isn’t it?” she asked. She didn’t have that polite, practiced smile she’d had on earlier, when she’d been talking with Wanxin. The one she wore was smaller, softer, but more genuine. He doubted she knew who he was, though given the company he’d come in, she probably imagined he was someone of at least some import.
“Yes,” Jieyuan agreed. “What is it?”
“I believe it’s called an amphis, but I couldn’t tell you for certain.” Duolan traced a finger over the shaft. “I happened to come across the designs for it in a jade book I got from a Mysterious Night House auction. Unlike most weapons I know of, this one can’t be said to have a mundane counterpart. Shifting Feather is what I called it. Or the Shifting Feathers, if you prefer.”
She took the weapon into her hands, and then split it with a burst of chroma. She held out both halves—which, being bladed, ended up serving as a pair of half-glaives. Similar to sabers, except with shorter blades and much longer bodies.
“Pair-form, is what I call this,” Duolan went on, swinging both blades at the same time, before snapping them back into one. “And this is single-form. There wasn’t much detail about them in the jade book beyond a vague description, so I made do with what I had. Give it a try.”
Taking the weapon from her, Jieyuan just held it for a moment, feeling out its balance in single-form, as Duolan put it. Shifting Feather. He then shifted his grip and adopted a stance he was familiar with, but just as he was about to try a few spear moves he realized that the blade on the other end would not only get in the way, but given its soulsign, might even be able to do him some serious harm. Just the slightest mistake, and the blade on the other end would be digging into his own body, cutting deep.
It didn’t help that it wasn’t meant for thrusts and stabs like a spear, but sweeping motions. Slashes, swings, hacks. It wasn’t just the shape of the blade. The weight distribution strongly favored the edge side. Some spear movements he knew—the more universal, polearm moves—could still be done, but the amphis was clearly meant to be used in a completely different way. He reckoned he wouldn’t have found it much easier even if had specialized in the glaive, which the amphis was closer to, than the spear.
He then channeled chroma into its shaft, splitting it, and held its two halves. Pair-form. He waited for a moment, but he didn’t get the bitter feeling he got from holding blades. It seemed they were distant enough from a saber not to be a problem.
He could sense it had a prime skill, but he couldn’t discern what it was. It seemed a tad familiar, though.
“Hmmm.” He gave the Shifting Feathers a few tentative swings, but the movements were unfamiliar, as he needed to distribute his weight and balance between the two halves. He barely had any experience with sabers given his aversion to blades as a whole, let alone with wielding two blades at the same time. And he’d never tried his hand at the half-variant of the common polearms, either.
“You see the problem, don’t you?” Duolan said, wistful. “This is the third amphis I made. I sold the first two, but as far as I know, they ended up relegated to mere decorative pieces. There are no established martial arts for it, you see, so you’d be going in blind, starting from scratch. And a weapon this complex? People already have a hard enough time mastering the sword and the spear and all the other more established weapons even with all the techniques and training methods and styles available for them.”
“You’re not doing a good job selling me on it,” Jieyuan said.
Duolan shrugged. “It’s not good for business to let my customers buy my works thoughtlessly. At least not in the long term.”
“Why have it out on display, then?”
“I’d like for all my artifacts to find a home. But I also want them to be used as they’re meant to be.”
Jieyuan returned his attention to the Shifting Feathers, then snapped them back into single-form, into Shifting Feather. He eyed the double-bladed glaive, considering it. Duolan had the right of it. He reckoned that even if there were instructions for it, this wouldn’t have been an easy weapon to master, be it in pair-form or single-form. It’d be a… challenge.
He licked his lips, feeling a familiar warmth rise inside him. Jieyuan had never been the type to shy away from a challenge. “What’s its prime skill?”
He already had a suspicion of what it was, given how similar it looked to another spear he’d tested earlier, and the familiar feeling he’d gotten from one of its properties.
“Ephemeral Weight Shift. I saw you try Heavy Feather before. It’s the same gear-skill, except both halves of Shifting Feather have it, separately.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are interested in it, aren’t you?”
“I might be,” he said, staring down at the split weapon in his hands.
They didn’t feel right, not quite, but they didn’t feel wrong, either. And if a lack of formal style was the main problem, that wasn’t much of a big deal to him. Jieyuan didn’t have a clear style of his own when it came to spearmanship, having mostly picked up bits and pieces from what his tutors had taught him and made them his own. He’d always been able to pick up new weapons quickly, and with little instruction. An amphis also had a very clear advantage—most people would be unfamiliar with fighting against a weapon like this.
The question, then, was whether it’d be worth it to start from scratch, as Duolan had put it, even more so when he was already having a hard enough time keeping up with Meiyao and Daojue as it was. It also wouldn’t help him any in the upcoming tournament, with just five days to prepare. But he didn’t need to do well at the tournament, and with his simulations, maybe… Maybe he could make it work.
And it had the exact same prime skill he’d liked the most out of all the spears he’d tested, Ephemeral Weight Shift. Except both halves had it, so there was even more flexibility in using it.
He tightened his grip on the shafts of Shifting Feather, then looked up at Duolan, smiling. “Is there a sheath for it?”