Chapter Sixty: Azure Earth Flame

Having committed to memory the five major controlling arts that Nie Xuan had copied out for him, Lin Feng paced lightly through the courtyard. The group had already decided that within two days, after settling all affairs of Bamboo Grove Manor, they would set out ahead of schedule, heading straight for Quhuai.

“Control of Fire, Metal, Water, Wood, Earth—truly, the world’s magical arts are dazzling and diverse. If I were to cultivate them all, who knows how many years it would take? According to Brother Nie, I should already be at the late stage of Qi Refinement, but I had no idea myself. How laughable.” Lin Feng mused as he walked.

“In the future, if I wish to refine pills or talismans, mastery of Fire Control is indispensable. I must comprehend it thoroughly. As for the others, I can take my time. For now, survival is paramount; I cannot neglect either Daoist arts or martial skills. If I could break through to the Foundation Establishment stage, even if I couldn’t win a fight, I could escape on my sword…”

He laughed at himself for his fanciful thoughts. That step—from Qi Refinement to Foundation Establishment—was the widest chasm for any cultivator in the early stages, almost impossible to cross even with Foundation Establishment Pills, let alone with not a single immortal elixir or miraculous medicine at hand.

Without a master’s guidance, no spiritual medicine to assist, no experience to reference—hoping to comprehend the Great Dao by his own efforts alone was a task as hard as shattering the heavens.

Unknowingly, he wandered to the practice ground. In two corners, Ye Ziyin and Xia Tong silently practiced sword forms. Of the group, their skills were the weakest, but both now trained tirelessly, as if in quiet competition.

“Though spear techniques are forceful, they suffer greatly against Daoist arts. The Da Luo Edge Fist is good for blocking and catching opponents off guard, but I have no suitable gauntlets now. Besides, with gloves, there’s no element of surprise. It seems I’d better refresh my swordsmanship.”

With this in mind, Lin Feng turned and returned to his room. The wound on his chest, though not fatal, had been ripped open by drawing his bow with full strength—two long, raw gashes—and there was another wound on his back. It was unwise to practice with sword or spear now.

He sat cross-legged, clearing his mind, and began to visualize the spiritual energy in his dantian. His arms moved, spiritual power gathering at his fingertips. A faint white glow emerged, and, under the force of his will, the glow slowly shifted and stretched, eventually forming a shape sharp as a spike after the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

“So it’s this simple. To wield it at will is likely not so easy. Let’s try the Fire Summoning Formula.”

With a thought, his spiritual energy surged, and he pictured the blazing, erupting intent of fire in his mind. Once again, spiritual energy shot down his arm—

“Whoosh!” A half-foot-long flame of blue-green fire leapt from his fingertip. Startled, Lin Feng’s heart wavered, and the flame was instantly extinguished.

“Wait—why is it blue fire? I remember when Fang Xiaotian refined the Incense of the Three Treasures, the flame he summoned was this blue fire. The other elders used only red true fire. Am I somehow different from others?”

He tried the incantation again. The blue fire danced at his fingertip. Prepared this time, he gingerly touched the flame but felt no pain, only a gentle warmth.

“How strange. I wonder if this fire can burn wood. If I increase the spiritual energy, will the flame grow?”

As the thought arose, he poured more power into it. The blue flame shot up like oil-fed fire, straight to the ceiling. In an instant, the bamboo roof was pierced by a hole burned clean through, but the flames did not spread further.

“Incredible!” Lin Feng hastily withdrew his spiritual energy and immediately felt dizzy, quickly sitting to meditate and compose himself.

An hour later, he opened his eyes, exhaled, and looked up at the hole in the roof with a sigh. “Daoist arts truly have great power, but they drain one’s spirit and energy. More practice is needed.”

He found a secluded spot within the estate and began practicing the arts of controlling fire, earth, and water. The principles were much the same—using spiritual energy as fuel to drive the arts. Curiously, mastering one made the others much more accessible.

“Water, rise! Rise!” … “Hmm? Why isn’t this working? The incantation is right…” After over a dozen tries, exhausted and dizzy, not a single drop of water appeared at his fingertips. Lin Feng sighed and sat down to ponder.

“Wood generates fire, metal begets water, and ice belongs to water. People possess five vital energies, with water being the most abundant. By reason, controlling water shouldn’t be difficult. Why is there no progress? Let’s try fire again…”

“Whoosh!” A large ball of blue flame shot up, bigger than his own head. Green fire!

“Ah—forgot again…” He felt a wave of dizziness—this time, failing to restrain the flow of power, his spiritual energy gushed forth like arrows, leaving him utterly drained.

“Wait, this fire was much larger than before. Could it be that losing control caused the spiritual power to erupt? That means there’s nothing wrong with the Water Control formula; the problem lies in the final transformation step. But why?” Lin Feng furrowed his brow, mulling over the sensations of power transforming—when summoning fire, the energy surged and flowed freely, hard to stop; but when trying to control water, it was like a teapot clogged, nothing would come out.

Unable to puzzle it out, Lin Feng rested a while and decided to set aside the question, testing instead the might of this “blue fire.”

“Fire, rise!” A small flame leapt to the bamboo grove—snap!—a row of Xiang bamboo split and fell, a scorched smell filling the air.

“Huh? It’s all gone?” On closer inspection, the burned bamboo was reduced to nothing, not even ashes remaining.

“Let’s try something else.”

He directed the blue flame onto an ornamental rock. It wrapped around the stone, burning fiercely.

Crack, crack! In moments, the rock crumbled completely to powder, which drifted away on the wind, tinged with fire’s scent.

“Earthly Blue Flame!” a voice cried out nearby. Lin Feng turned to see the Five Venoms Boy, Nie Xuan, approaching.

“You—you actually cultivated Earthly Blue Flame in so short a time? That’s unbelievable!” Nie Xuan examined the spot where the stone had stood; only cracked earth remained.

“Earthly Blue Flame?”

Nie Xuan nodded. “Among common flames, the most powerful in order are Crimson Sun Flame, Earthly Blue Flame, and Celestial White Flame. In Buddhist tales, there’s also Karmic Red Lotus Fire, Pure World White Flame, and the legendary Samadhi True Fire, and Origin Fire of the Nine Heavens. Those last are exceedingly rare. For cultivators at our level, forming Earthly Blue Flame is a one-in-a-million achievement.”

“How so?” Lin Feng asked.

“Ordinary red flame is the Crimson Sun Flame, also called wood fire—good for burning wood. Your blue flame can melt metal and stone; it’s known as stone fire. Celestial White Flame is even stronger, able to refine spiritual treasures and immortal materials—called void fire. To wield these flames, your body must be able to withstand the burning, or you’d be courting death!” Nie Xuan shook his head with a rueful smile.

“I see…” Lin Feng finally understood Nie Xuan’s surprise. “So this means I’m now impervious to ordinary fire?”

“Not quite—it depends on the source. In your current state, common fire shouldn’t harm you. But if someone else strikes with Earthly Blue Flame, it’s another matter,” Nie Xuan replied.

Lin Feng nodded; magical arts varied in depth and strength. The same flame, in different hands, could wield vastly different power.

“By the way, I came to tell you—Li Dali, who lost the wager that day, is at the manor gate now, leading his precious horse to settle the bet.”

“He actually came? It seems he’s a man of his word. Let’s go see.” Lin Feng smiled broadly.

…

At the manor gate, Li Dali stood by his beloved horse, his hand constantly stroking its neck, sighing again and again.

“So it’s Brother Li! What, you’re really willing to give me your horse?” Lin Feng and Nie Xuan strode over. Seeing Li’s troubled, honest face, Lin Feng couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course I’m not willing!” Li Dali’s face reddened as he muttered gruffly, “But I lost, and a man must stand by his word.”

Lin Feng and Nie Xuan laughed, and even the gate guards joined in.

“How about this, Brother Li. I hear Miss Xiao Yun in your village faces hardship. If you have time, look after her for me, and you may keep your Black Duke steed.”

“What? Then you’d better take my horse—I’m not going to her house,” Li Dali said, starting to hand over the reins.

“Why not? What’s wrong with her family?” Lin Feng asked, puzzled.

“She’s odd. I won’t go, and my wife wouldn’t let me either.” Li Dali’s expression was earnest. “Are you taking the horse or not? If not, I’m riding home.”

“How about this—you take us to her house, and I won’t claim your horse.” Lin Feng suggested with a smile.

Li Dali hesitated, then waved his hand. “Fine, but we go now, before my wife finds out.”

“Alright, wait here while we fetch the horse.” Lin Feng shook his head with a wry smile and went with Nie Xuan toward the stables.