We “flew” off in one direction and… ran into a dead end. As it turned out, the water level was too high, and the passage we needed was underwater. My companions had to hold their breath and dive, making ridiculously contorted faces as they went. Under the water, we spent only a couple of minutes before surfacing inside the passageway.
“I thought I was gonna die!” - Fifth declared. - “How can anyone stay underwater that long?”
Judging by everyone else’s bugged-out eyes, they agreed. For me, though, it was easy enough. Thanks to Qi nourishing my body, I could hold my breath for at least ten minutes. It made me wonder how on earth they’d agreed to follow me into that lake in the first place, back when I was searching for the main geyser. I’d assumed they doubted about my sanity but in reality, it seems they’re afraid of water. Could it be rabies? It’s called hydrophobia for a reason. I’d better keep an eye on them so I don’t get bitten by these “cultivators.”
We moved on, trailing behind First while I memorized the route and scanned the surroundings with psionics. After half an hour of wandering, we saw a bright light ahead and heard some indiscernible noise. Quietly sneaking forward, we emerged from the narrow passage into a huge hall. It was filled with people - shouting, flying around, running or standing in rows. Judging by the colors of their robes, these were the armies of two sects, each busily trying to intimidate the other, with occasional clashes in which they lobbed techniques at one another or knocked out teeth.
I also noticed that “our” side had far fewer cultivators, maybe only a third as many. On the other hand, most of the enemy’s mass of people were Qi Condensation disciples or lower-level Foundation Establishment cultivators, whereas our allies were largely around the same power level as my own companions.
“What do we do?” - I asked. - “Is this situation normal? Is it always like this before an eruption?”
“No” - First replied with a frown. - “Usually the Black Lotus Sect’s disciples are only a quarter of this number. Looks like they’re planning to attack our group.”
“Really?” - I said, genuinely surprised.
To me, all this scurrying around looked pointless. If you want to attack, then attack. Just dive into close combat and destroy your enemies. Or hide behind shields and strike from a distance. What’s the point of running in circles?
“That elite squad over there is preparing to strike our flank, while these other squads draw attention” - Second began to explain. - “If our main forces confront that enemy squad directly, these small fry will attack our younger disciples.” - We were nearly at the ceiling of the hall, which gave us a great vantage point to see how the troops were arranged.
I quickly got a sense of both sides’ battle plans and offered my own suggestion:
“Then we need to strike their flank. If we hit these small fry right when their main squad moves into position, they’ll end up in a trap themselves. If that squad turns to attack us, our forces can strike them from behind. That means they’ll first have to pull back so that ordinary disciples can cover their rear. The moment they do, we start pushing forward, our troops will meet us halfway and we’ll cut the enemy formation in half. At the same time, we’ll end up near the wall, which will help us protect our younger disciples more effectively.”
“Good plan” - Second acknowledged, - “but we don’t have a strong enough squad. There are only six of us.”
“Nonsense! We have a Core Formation cultivator and four people at the higher levels of Foundation Establishment. And don’t forget about me. Besides, on this sector, the enemy only has small fry. We can cut through them without breaking a sweat.”
“I’d call that a reckless gamble” - Fourth remarked.
“And I’d call it suicide!” - Fifth added.
“If we don’t help them, our troops will suffer heavy losses” - First assessed the situation.
“So how exactly do you plan on attacking them?” - Second retorted, clearly not sold. - “All they have to do is send a dozen senior disciples to hold us off.”
“They wouldn’t dare” - I smirked.
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“What?” - My little “war council” stared at me.
“They’ll order a retreat, with the strongest leaving first. By the time they realize what’s going on, our army will be halfway to us, assuming their commander isn’t an idiot.”
“The squad is led by the best general’s son in our sect. If not for him, our forces would’ve been wiped out already” - First explained.
“Well, then we’re good. Worst case, we can still retreat, and in the cramped tunnels we’ll have the advantage.”
“And how are we supposed to attack them?” - Fifth asked in despair.
“You? You’re not. I’ll do it myself. Let’s pull back into the corridor. Fourth, go around that passage and hide behind that boulder. Keep an eye on the battle. If the enemy decides to attack us, come back through the corridor and let us know.”
We retreated into the narrow passage, and I waited until Fourth took up his observation post. By then, the main enemy force was already closing in on our troops, and a real bloodbath was about to begin.
My plan was quite simple. From what I’d seen on the battlefield, most cultivators here preferred close or mid-range attacks. There was no heavy artillery or archers to speak of. That was exactly what I intended to exploit. I knew a technique generally referred to as “Fireball”. It had a different official name, of course, but in essence, the cultivator would form a ball of fire and hurl it at an enemy. If there was any trajectory control, it was done by means of a fine Qi thread. And that’s where the typical “fireball caster” would run into problems.
If you launched the fireball without the Qi thread, it destabilized quickly and could only travel a few dozen meters at most. On the other hand, if you tried controlling it by maintaining a Qi thread, you could prevent premature detonation, but the fireball’s path was then limited by the thread’s length and integrity. Average cultivators could only manage threads of a couple dozen meters, which actually reduced the effective range of a fireball.
However, I wanted to pull off a neat trick I’d been practicing for quite a while. When I’d been studying the “alarm system” around Sun Zi Liang’s ring, I discovered the principle of “fractal extension” for Qi influence. That is, I could stretch the thread for twenty meters and, using its tip, extend the same thread another twenty meters, and so on controlling it in segments. Of course, the further I extended it, the harder it became to manage, but I only needed to maintain the thread’s overall integrity, guide its path, and keep the fireball itself stable, which was about as simple as a glowing lightbulb.
In total, my offensive capabilities now “stretched” out to half a kilometer. And here’s where another factor came into play: normally, a cultivator’s strength was limited by the neutral Qi in their body plus their reserves of Inner Qi. But I had a seal that was currently filled with the “dark Qi” I’d collected earlier. And since I now had access to the First Chamber, I saw no reason to bother refining this unpalatable Qi; that meant I could freely burn it all in this one attack.
After getting ready, I created several hundred threads, stretching them through the twenty-meter corridor. Once they emerged into the open space, they reached all the way to the enemy lines. When the threads got to the distance I wanted, I started sending fireballs along them, gliding like they were on rails and leaving the threads themselves unscathed.
Amplifying my speed with psionics, I began forming literally dozens of fireballs per second. This entire “wall of fire” streaked forward and crashed down on the unsuspecting disciples. The majority were barely at the fifth level of Foundation Establishment (15), so they had no chance of surviving. My fireballs didn’t strike their shields directly but exploded a couple of meters above the ground, enough for the wave of flames to slam into cultivators who had no defenses against such an “Area of Effect” attack.
As I predicted, such a powerful, unexpected assault sparked a panic. The junior disciples just burned alive; the senior ones tried to flee as fast as they could. They must have assumed that to generate a barrage of fire like that, I’d have to be at least at the Revelation Stage.
Within a couple of minutes, my “extra” Qi was gone but the damage was done. Where about one-tenth of the enemy army once stood, there remained only a scorched clearing littered with corpses and the dying. Peering out of the corridor, I watched our troops sprinting over the fallen enemies, finishing off the survivors. But what stunned me most was the state of those I’d struck. The Qi I’d used was so aggressive that the fireballs didn’t merely singe people they instantly incinerated the flesh, leaving white bones visible from the outside. Perhaps in the future, I ought to store more of this Qi for precisely such occasions…
After the devastation, the enemy retreated, splitting their army. The main throng merely withdrew to a safer distance, but their “elite squad” had to scatter through the tunnels when our commanding officer sent his main forces in pursuit, threatening to trap them against the wall and encircle them.
Ten minutes later, I was in the “command center”. The most “advanced” cultivators crowded around me, shooting me sidelong glances but not daring to object to my presence, seeing the grandmaster alchemist’s sash and insignia I wore.
“Ryu Dzu Bei, was that you who unleashed that wave of fire? Incredible technique. How’d you pull it off?” - Their local ‘general’ rushed over to First.
“That wasn’t me” - my minion shook his head. - “That was the Boss, our grandmaster alchemist, Tan Ji Tao.”
“The Boss? Wait, are you saying that technique was used by a sixth-level Qi Condensation cultivator?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened.”
At that, everyone looked at me with suspicion and then moved aside.
“Behold my infinite greatness!” - I exclaimed. - “And if anyone doubts it, I’ll crush their head with this club.” - I hefted my weapon in demonstration.