Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation
76. Three Years

Jinshu was traveling through what he had come to call the ‘slipspace,’ or simply ‘ripples,’ as his aunt called them. He wasn’t sure why the term ‘slipspace’ came to mind when he moved through the kaleidoscopic realm of fractured images, but he liked it. The space was awash in bright blue glowing hues, and it felt right to him.

It was hard to describe—like a million pictures overlaid on top of each other, each in varying shades of blue.

When he stepped out from the slipspace, the world snapped back into vibrant color. The sudden shift was disorienting at first, but after three years of practice, he had grown accustomed to it. He no longer felt like vomiting every time, as he had when he first learned.

"Aunt, look at this new formation I learned!" Jinshu said as he stepped out of the slipspace, drawing runes in the air. He swiftly dodged a silver claw aimed at his head. "I was ready for it this time," he added with a smile, evading a second claw aimed at his chest.

The claws were his aunt’s.

This scene of him stepping through a ripple in space and dodging his aunt's attacks had played out repeatedly over the last year. It was combat training for Jinshu.

As he skillfully dodged her wild strikes, he finished carving the formation. A brilliant light flashed from the runes, filling the training room with a golden glow.

Long Zui, his aunt, backed off—likely having recognized the formation Jinshu had created.

From the golden light emerged not the thirteen-year-old dragon in human form, but a six-armed, black-armored vajra-wielding deity. This was the virtual battle form of the Minor Deity Formation, a combat-focused formation.

In this battle form, Jinshu was impervious to damage as long as the formation remained active—or more accurately, until his Qi reserves were exhausted. The form amplified his battle power by an entire realm, elevating him to the Adept Realm, one step above his current Spirit Realm.

Though Jinshu's battle form granted him immense strength, he was still no match for his aunt’s cultivation. Normally, her power far surpassed his, but for the sake of their training, she kindly suppressed her cultivation to the Master Realm. Even so, she remained much stronger than him—her strength a constant reminder of the gap he still had to bridge. At least this way, their fights were more manageable, though no less intense.

The deity form wielded four vajras crackling with lightning. In his two free hands, Jinshu summoned his Spirit, a weapon his aunt had remarked was unlike anything she'd ever seen when he first reached the Spirit Realm. The weapon resembled a blunt, pointless spear—a long metal pipe with a wooden handle and a trigger mechanism, reminiscent of a crossbow. He called it a rifle, the word inexplicably surfacing in his mind the moment he first summoned it.

Jinshu hurled the four thunderbolt-wreathed vajras, their arcs flashing through the air with violent energy. As expected, Long Zui effortlessly dodged them, her movements precise and graceful. Yet, as the vajras passed her, they suddenly turned, surging toward her back. She twisted, evading them again as if she had eyes in the back of her head.

Bang!

The rifle barked, releasing a Qi-infused projectile—a bullet, as Jinshu called it. The golden streak of energy tore through the air, crossing the fifty-meter training room faster than the lightning bolts. It struck Long Zui's chest with a sharp snap, causing the Qi barrier surrounding her to ripple but hold firm.

Bang!

The second shot followed. This time, the barrier cracked slightly, faint spiderweb fractures spreading across its surface.

Jinshu pulled back the rifle's bolt, charging another shot even as Long Zui surged forward, her speed nearly overwhelming.

The vajras reappeared in his hands, their return instinctive. Without hesitation, he hurled them again, the weapons hurtling toward her charging figure in synchronized arcs.

Long Zui didn’t even bother dodging the vajra this time, letting them blast harmlessly against her Qi barrier. The thunder-charged weapons slid off its surface, their energy dissipating with little effect.

Bang!

Another bullet streaked toward her, striking the barrier dead center. More spiderweb cracks spread across the translucent shield, but it still held firm. By then, she had closed the distance. Her clawed hand struck Jinshu’s armored chest with a force like a battering ram.

The impact sent him hurtling backward, embedding his body deep into the training room wall.

A golden glow enveloped him as the Minor Deity Formation unraveled, dispersing in shimmering fragments. The protective nature of the formation reduced the damage, but half of the force still hit him like a mountain.

“Argh!” Jinshu groaned, pain lancing through his body as he slid down the wall. “Ugh… you could’ve gone a little easier, couldn’t you?”

Long Zui shrugged nonchalantly. “I could,” she said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “But where’s the fun in that?” She chuckled, her tone equal parts teasing and approving.

With great effort, Jinshu pulled himself off the floor, his body protesting every movement. He grimaced but was relieved to find nothing broken this time—a stark improvement from their earlier training sessions. The memory of his first attempt, which left him bedridden for a month, was still fresh in his mind.

“How was my use of the Minor Deity Formation?” he asked, brushing dust off his robes.

Long Zui nodded in approval. “It was good. Quick application, and you managed to manifest four vajra on your first real attempt.”

“I could’ve summoned all six,” Jinshu replied, rolling his shoulders to ease the soreness. “But I needed two free hands.”

Long Zui gave Jinshu a pat on the back, causing him to wince from the lingering pain. “Seems to me there’s nothing left for me to teach you. You’ve mastered the Ripple Walk, and your proficiency in formations is downright absurd. You're already using the strongest Spirit Realm Formation to peak efficiency.”

“So… what, I can leave now?” Jinshu asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yup. I’ve got nothing left for you here.”

“But can I really? Last time I tried, I ran face-first into an invisible wall. I’m still not convinced my nose healed straight.”

Long Zui waved off his concern. “Ah, it’s fine.”

“Really? I swear it feels slightly crooked.”

“…Who needs a straight nose anyway?”

“Wait! Is it really crooked?!”

“…No.”

“Why’d you pause?!”

“Look,” she said, cutting him off and shoving a small disk covered in intricate runic patterns into his hand, “take this and leave. Go see your family. I’m sure they’ve been missing you.”

Before Jinshu could respond, she vanished into a rippling portal, using her Ripple Walk technique.

“How do I find you after I leave?!” he called after her, knowing full well she could still hear him.

A moment later, her head peeked back out of the portal. “Where do you hide a tree?” she asked, her voice teasing. She didn’t wait for an answer and disappeared again.

“Where do you hide a tree?” Jinshu muttered, frowning. “Is that a riddle? Uh… a forest?”

“Ding, ding, ding! Got it in one!” Long Zui’s voice echoed faintly from the fading ripple.

“Tree in a forest? Where’s that?” Jinshu asked, but this time there was no answer.

With a resigned shrug, he activated the formation disk she had handed him. A bright flash enveloped him, and when his vision cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of an oddly familiar forest.

Behind him, a large tree with glowing purple bark loomed.

“No way. We were here that entire time?!” Jinshu exclaimed, turning to face the tree.

As he stared, he noticed a formation fading from its bark—a formation used to hide a space, similar to the runes found on spatial artifacts.

Jinshu shook his head, turning in the vague direction he remembered his home to be. It had been three years since he’d left, and he was surprised he even vaguely remembered the way.

He could have used Ripple Walk to return in an instant, but his Qi reserves were still recovering from his sparring session. Instead, he chose to fly in his true form—a form he hadn’t used in all those years.

Silver light engulfed his body, and when it faded, his dragon form emerged. A ten-meter-long serpentine body covered in gleaming silver scales that reflected the sunlight like a field of tiny mirrors. His long silver whiskers and flowing silver mane gave him an air of majesty. Glorious, he thought to himself with pride.

Flying at a leisurely pace, Jinshu marveled at the familiar terrain below. But as he passed a small mountain, something caught his eye.

A human village nestled at the mountain’s foot.

“That wasn’t there a few years ago,” he mused.

His attention shifted abruptly as a violent clash of Qi shook the air above the mountain. Two massive Rocs circled a blackened peak, locked in fierce combat with a Fire Tribe dragon.

“And neither were those Rocs fighting over that scorched mountain,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

Jinshu’s leisurely flight turned into a blur of silver as he surged toward the battle, intent on aiding the embattled dragon.

What the hell are Rocs doing in Dragon Clan territory? he wondered. Drawing closer, he studied the scene. The dragon holding its ground against the two Rocs was large, though not yet fully grown—an adolescent like himself. Still, its size and fiery attacks made it formidable.

Dragons rarely recognized each other by appearance alone. Their true forms were often too similar. Only scent and voice distinguished them, but those required close proximity.

As Jinshu neared the battlefield, a roar cut through the chaos.

His heart clenched.

It was a voice he hadn’t heard in three years, but he would have known it even after three hundred.

Yanjiang.

Rage ignited within him, and with a deafening roar of his own, Jinshu pushed himself to his limit. His body became a streak of silver as he collided with one of the Rocs, the impact sending the massive bird hurtling into the charred mountain below.

The sudden intervention left both Yanjiang and the remaining Roc stunned.

The second Roc barely had time to react before Jinshu pounced. His serpentine body coiled around its neck with crushing force, and he sank his fangs deep into its Qi-shrouded feathers, piercing through the obstruction.

The Roc screeched, thrashing against him, but Jinshu held on, his fury fueling his strength.

With the tang of the Roc’s blood on his tongue and the sight of his sister’s bloodied, cracked figure burned into his eyes, Jinshu made his resolve. He would protect her. He would kill them all.