Chapter 17 | An Elder’s Anger

Calid dropped his arm.

The matrix roared to life in all its glory.

The massive web of interlocking spell constructs overhead spun counterclock wise and then contracted to a point of density that made the air vibrate and scream like the undead and banshees, then unfurled.

The Qi dispersal matrices went first.

They expanded outward in concentric rings that passed through the corridor, over the ridges, and into the tree line beyond with a silent, invisible power that nobody could point at and see coming but everybody felt immediately. Every demonic cultivator within a hundred and fifty feet discovered, simultaneously and without warning, that their Qi had stopped working.

Nay, all the Qi within that sphere vanished.

For moments, the monsters that had been powerful demonic cultivators were nothing but mortals.

The dark energy coiling around blades unravelled like smoke in a gale. Techniques that had been mid-cast collapsed into nothing. Defensive barriers, passive reinforcements, talismans offered definition by Shao Wen’s memories, and even the ambient hum of cultivation methods that traded sanity for murder, all of it simply ceased, as though the universe had received a formal complaint about the existence of demonic Qi in this particular area and had decided to uphold it retroactively.

A cultivator on the eastern ridge, mid-swing, felt his blade go from supernaturally sharp instrument of death to heavy piece of metal being held by a man whose arms were suddenly very tired and the blade was not meant to be carried by limbs unaided with Qi. His eyes went wide and mouth opened.

The sound that came out was not a word in any language Calid recognised, but the emotional content was universal.

The compression matrices fired next.

Twelve of them, staggered in a cascade that rolled outward from the corridor’s centre. Each one targeted a cluster of signatures, pinning them to whatever surface they happened to be occupying at the time; ground, ridge face, rockfall, tree trunk, the back of a colleague who had been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time and was now load-bearing in ways he had not anticipated.

The demonic cultivators went flat against their will.

Some of them against the soft earth, others against limestone, slamming their faces.

They couldn’t move, circulate, nor could they breathe properly.

Then the fire came.

Calid had not used fire before with Qi.

He had not had the reserves, core stability, understanding of how Qi worked, or the conversion efficiency to attempt thermal matrices with Qi. Mana-based fire constructs were among the first things taught at the Academy, right after ‘don’t touch that’ and slightly before ‘I said don’t touch that, now look what you’ve done.’ The principle was identical across energy types: compress, accelerate molecules to generate heat, provide energy, form into solidifying matrices, release, and let thermodynamics handle the rest.

The Qi did not resist for the first time since he had arrived in this world. It did not attempt to hesitate, negotiate, or express philosophical reservations about the shape it was being asked to assume like usual. It flowed from his core through the meridian channels, out through the matrix architecture overhead, and into the focal points of dozens of lances that crystallised in the air above the corridor.

Said flaming lances were the white of metal heated.

They hung for perhaps half a second.

Every demonic cultivator who was still conscious looked up in that brief moment–

And then the lances fell in groups of three and four, each cluster targeting a pinned signature with precision that had locked on to the flecks of demonic Qi and targeted it, another portion of the interlocking webs of matrices. The first volley struck the cultivators at the northern approach, multiple lances per body, punching through the compression field and into flesh that had no Qi reinforcement, defensive technique, working armor, or barrier of any kind between it and superheated constructs that did not care about the distinction between demonic cultivator and kindling.

The lances themselves were silent in the ambient screaming of his massive web of matrices behind him.

Nothing but a series of sharp, percussive thunks.

The shouts of agony from the demonic cultivators was a different thing entirely.

The lances slammed themselves into them with extreme force, pinning them to the ground and not vanishing because it was using them and the Qi in their cores, of which the demonic cultivators had no access to, to fuel themselves and make sure the job was done. Five or six per body glowing white and radiating heat that made the air above each body shimmer.

Volley after volley followed to make sure none escaped.

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Those that were at the edges of the compression matrices and trying to escape were hit in the back. Those that tried to fight the pressure were slammed into the ground with multiple lances of white flames.

The lances continued to fall until every body on the field had a dozen of them protruding at angles that would have made a porcupine feel inadequate. The white glow illuminated the corridor, the ridges, and the surrounding forest in a light that was clean and utterly merciless.

Then the light began to fade.

The lances dimmed from white to yellow to orange to a dull, sullen red, and then to nothing, dissolving into wisps of Qi that rejoined the ambient flow as though they had never existed. The compression matrices released and the dispersal webs contracted and collapsed. The massive complex web of matrices overhead spun down, its interlocking shapes separating and dissolving one by one until the last nodes all winked out and the sky above the corridor was just sky again.

Grey, overcast, and profoundly unimpressed.

Calid stood in the corridor’s centre.

His hands were at his sides and breathing was uneven in the burning anger that had consumed him. His new core, the pea-sized sphere that had been full to its laughable brim five minutes ago, was now completely empty and only the willing assistance of external Qi had been what continued to power the massive thing he had created in a whim.

While it was easier to create the matrices with his own personal Qi, the hard limitation of his core was something he hadn’t considered in a moment of wrathful vengeance he needed to have to save his disciples.

I can’t do that again. Next time, what if the external Qi does not respond as willingly? Do I end up killing myself–

The System pinged him.

[Combat: 23x Qi Condensation (Mid-Stage) Eliminated] x (70)

[Combat: 14x Qi Condensation (Late-Stage) Eliminated] x (80)

[Combat: 8x Qi Condensation (Peak-Stage) Eliminated]x (100)

[Combat: 4x Foundation Establishment (Early-Stage) Eliminated] x (200)

[Combat: 2x Foundation Establishment (Mid-Stage) Eliminated] x (225)