Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation
75. Formations

Jinshu stumbled out of a shimmering ripple in the middle of a spacious indoor training room within Long Zui's palace. The sharp sound of his misstep echoed off the polished walls as he caught his balance, his gaze lifting to meet his aunt’s expectant face.

“Took you long enough to get the hang of it. How long has it been? Nine months?” Long Zui’s voice carried a familiar note of condescension, her sharp eyes flicking to the spot where another ripple was slowly fading behind him.

Jinshu hesitated. “Um… it’s been a year.”

“A year? Really? Has it been that long already?” she muttered, tapping her chin in thought. Her expression softened only slightly before she dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, let’s move on to the next lesson.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and led him into a side room attached to the training hall.

The smaller chamber was lined with shelves stacked high with scrolls, their edges worn with use. The floor was scattered with unfurled scrolls, their surfaces marked with intricate runic patterns. At the far end of the room stood a single desk, its surface cluttered with bottles of ink and mostly blank scrolls, though a few bore the beginnings of half-drawn runes.

This was where they practiced rune crafting—an intricate art distinct from the broader profession of runesmithing. While runesmiths focused on forging weapons enhanced with inscribed runes, runecrafters specialized in using runes to empower already crafted items.

However, what Long Zui was teaching Jinshu went beyond typical runecrafting. It delved into an even rarer and more complex application of the art: formations.

Long Zui herself was a formation-specialized runecrafter, or as they were more commonly known, a formation master.

“At least you’re a faster learner when it comes to runes,” she remarked as they stopped at the desk in the back of the room. She gestured toward the cluttered surface. “Now that you’ve learned the basics, show me how to draw a Lesser Protection Formation.”

“Sure,” Jinshu said, nodding confidently as he reached for a blank scroll and a brush.

“No, not like that,” Long Zui interrupted sharply, her tone tinged with impatience. “Use your Qi and draw it in the air.”

He blinked at her, startled. “What? But… you haven’t taught me that yet.”

She responded with a condescending look, one eyebrow arching high. “So? Just do it.”

Jinshu stared at her blankly, his mind racing. How was he supposed to attempt something he hadn’t even been introduced to?

“Well? What are you waiting for?” she pressed, folding her arms.

With no better idea, Jinshu closed his eyes and conjured a mental image of the Lesser Protection Formation. Drawing on the Qi within his dantian, he guided it to his fingertip, imagining it as a brush painting the runes in the air.

Minutes ticked by, and when he finally opened his eyes, glowing runes floated before him, shimmering faintly. His heart leapt with excitement. “Oh! Did I do it?!”

Before Long Zui could respond, the glowing structure wavered, unraveling thread by thread until it dissolved into nothingness.

“You failed,” she said flatly, her expression entirely unimpressed.

“Oh…” Jinshu deflated slightly, but determination quickly reignited in his eyes. “Let me try again.”

As he closed his eyes to focus once more, he failed to notice Long Zui’s expression subtly shift. Her usual condescension gave way to a fleeting look of disbelief and astonishment, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she had just seen.

With his eyes closed once more, Jinshu carefully redrew the runic patterns for the formation, his movements steady and deliberate. He took about the same amount of time as before, perhaps even slightly less. When he opened his eyes, the shimmering runes floated midair once again, only to slowly unravel and fade away, just as they had before.

“Aunt, why are they disappearing? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of desperation.

Long Zui, still wearing her deadpan expression, replied matter-of-factly, “Hm. Your first attempt was decent. But you missed the most crucial step—sealing the formation.”

Jinshu blinked. “How do I seal the formation?”

“You use your Qi to bind the entire structure together,” she explained, her tone as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “It doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as you inject enough Qi to stabilize it.”

“Okay,” Jinshu said, his determination returning. “I’ll try one more time.”

Closing his eyes again, he visualized the formation in his mind’s eye with renewed focus. This time, Long Zui’s expression remained neutral, her gaze steady as she watched him work.

Several minutes later, a third formation began to materialize midair. Jinshu placed his hand at its center, channeling Qi outward to stabilize the structure. For a few tense moments, he held his breath as the shimmering runes solidified. When he finally pulled his hand away, the Lesser Protection Formation remained intact, floating steadily in the air.

“Aha! I did it!” Jinshu exclaimed, pumping his fist in triumph at his first successful creation.

Clap!

Long Zui offered a slow, deliberate applause. “Good job. Now activate it.”

His excitement faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… how do I do that?”

She arched an eyebrow. “How do you think?”

“Um…” Jinshu hesitated, unsure. Trusting his instincts, he reached out with a Qi-infused finger and tapped the formation’s center.

At once, the runes flared brightly, and a semi-transparent barrier shimmered into existence around him. His eyes widened in awe. “Oho! I did it!”

Pop!

The barrier burst like a soap bubble a second later.

Jinshu watched as Long Zui casually pulled her finger back from where she had poked his barrier. He frowned. “What was that for?”

“To make sure the success doesn’t go to your head,” she replied with a smirk. “Your weak barrier can’t even handle a simple poke.”

“Well, yeah. Of course it can’t—not from someone with the strength of an immortal goddess, anyway.”

Long Zui scoffed, but Jinshu caught the faint blush coloring her cheeks and the small smile tugging at her lips. She liked the compliment, even if she wouldn’t admit it outright. He had figured out a while ago that his aunt had a soft spot for flattery. Over the past year, he’d used this knowledge to gently nudge her into teaching him things she hadn’t initially intended to. For instance, she had planned to stop at basic rune crafting, but after a few well-placed compliments, she had agreed to teach him the advanced art of formations.

“Is there a way to use formations in battle?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Of course, if you’re fast enough,” Long Zui said with a shrug. “Like this.”

Before Jinshu could respond, she moved her hands with lightning speed, drawing symbols in the air faster than his eyes could track. In less than three seconds, a Greater Protection Formation sprang to life in front of her, its glowing structure radiating strength and elegance.

“Wow! How did you stabilize it though?” Jinshu asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. He hadn’t seen her do anything other than draw with her finger, yet the formation held steady.

“I told you already,” Long Zui said with a small smirk. “It doesn’t matter how you stabilize it, as long as it has enough Qi to hold together.”

“Oooh~ so you stabilized it as you drew,” Jinshu said, realization dawning.

With a casual wave of her hand, the glowing formation dissipated into nothingness. “Exactly. Anyway, now that you’ve got the basics down, you can train on your own. Come find me if you have questions,” she said before disappearing into a ripple in the air.

Jinshu blinked at her abrupt exit but quickly shrugged, having grown used to his aunt’s dramatic antics. “What should I learn then…?” he muttered to himself.

With no better ideas, he wandered over to the shelves, grabbed a few scrolls at random, and brought them to the desk. He unrolled one and began to study its intricate patterns.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the air ripple again. Glancing up, he saw Long Zui step through, this time drinking from her ever-present wine gourd.

“Hey,” she said, wiping her mouth, “I forgot to mention something. There’s a rune you can’t learn—ever.”

Jinshu raised an eyebrow. “Uh… what rune?”

Long Zui pointed at an empty spot on the shelf. “The one riiiiight—” She paused mid-sentence, blinking in confusion at the bare shelf. Her gaze slowly shifted to the scrolls he had piled on the desk, then finally landed on the one in his hands. “That one. You can’t learn that one.”

“This one?” Jinshu asked, holding up the scroll.

“Yep. That one.”

“Um… it’s a little late for that. I’ve already started reading it. What’s the big deal? There’s no description.”

Long Zui crossed her arms, her expression unusually serious. “That scroll contains the Time Rune—a nasty little thing that was banned by the Heavens themselves.”

“Banned by the Heavens? Really?” Jinshu said, leaning back in disbelief.

“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice firm. “Anyone who uses it will have their soul cast into the void of time as punishment.”

“What does it even do?”

“It allows you to move forwards or backwards in time,” Long Zui explained, her tone grim. “But, like I said, using it will doom your soul forever. So, don’t even think about it.”

Jinshu rolled the scroll up and handed it back to Long Zui. “Are there any other forbidden runes here?”

She tapped her chin, her gaze sweeping across the shelves. “Hmm… that one, that one, and that one,” she said, pointing to three scrolls. “You can learn these two,” she added, indicating two of the three, “but don’t use them until you reach the Saint Realm.”

“What about the one I can’t learn?” Jinshu asked, his curiosity piqued.

“That one’s the Immortality Rune,” Long Zui said with a smirk. “It was designed to be drawn on the body and grant an immortal physique. However, there’s a tiny side effect—”

“Which is?”

“It requires so much Qi that your body explodes into smithereens.”

“Oh.” Jinshu blinked, unsure how to respond to such a casually delivered warning.

“Anyway,” Long Zui continued, brushing the topic aside, “you’re free to learn anything else. Toodaloo!” With a wave, she disappeared into another ripple.

Jinshu let out a sigh and turned back to the scrolls. The next one he opened featured a formation with detailed instructions—and a glaring warning. While the formation wasn’t inherently deadly, one mistake could cause it to explode catastrophically, taking him with it.

He set that one aside with a grimace and moved on to a third. This one was more straightforward: an Explosion Formation. Bold letters at the top read:

‘If you screw this up, you will die!’

“Oh, charming,” Jinshu muttered dryly.

He spent the rest of the day poring over the scrolls, carefully memorizing the ones he deemed most useful. While the risks were high, he couldn't deny the thrill of unraveling the mysteries of formations.