389 Frost & Flame

389 Frost & Flame

[POV: Da Ji]

Da Ji preferred her life simple when she was not on a mission, so most of her days were spent buried in scrolls or leaning over her desk as she prepared lecture notes for the two courses under her care, Sublimation of Frost and Ballistic Metallurgy.

Both subjects were obscure and advanced enough that only a handful of disciples bothered to attend, which suited her perfectly because fewer disciples meant fewer questions and less social noise. Points did not matter to her anyway. What mattered were the extra gains she earned on the side, especially with Chen Wei hunting beasts for her. With Peng Ru’s help, she had managed to register Chen Wei as a disciple even though the boy’s “cultivation” confused every examiner. Since he walked the Transcendent Path first, nothing the academy taught could match Da Wei’s lessons. Her brother might be childish, sharp-tongued, and fond of pranks, but he had a frightening talent for teaching. She still did not understand how he did it.

She wrapped up her Sublimation of Frost lecture with practiced ease, sweeping her sleeves back as she addressed the room of thirteen. “If any of you have questions, raise your hands. If not, we will end here.”

Her cold voice drifted across the quiet hall. The disciples, all of them Seventh Realm and bearing frost, mist, or illusion bloodline traits, looked at her with the kind of sharp attention that made Da Ji’s eyelid twitch. She preferred them relaxed, not eager.

A young man with curved horns lifted his hand. “Teacher Da Ji,” he said carefully, “is the opposite of sublimation possible? If humid air freezes on a cold surface, would that be considered a reverse sublimation?”

“That would be deposition,” Da Ji answered with a slow nod. “Cultivators can force it with qi, but you will need absolute control. If your qi trembles even a hair, the entire process collapses. Sublimation is fast. Deposition is faster. Both punish carelessness.”

The disciple bowed slightly. “Thank you, Teacher.”

Da Ji returned the nod but said nothing more. Truthfully, deposition should have been taught next to sublimation, but teaching both annoyed her. If she could get away with it, she would split them into two classes, schedule them at the same hour, and attend whichever one she felt like that day. Sadly, even she knew that would look suspicious. She wanted people to see her as aloof, self-absorbed, and focused only on her own cultivation. Having no servants in her manor helped keep that reputation intact, and she intended to maintain it.

When she walked into the hall for her Ballistic Metallurgy lecture, she stopped mid-step. The room, which usually held only eight or nine students, was suddenly packed. Several senior lecturers sat scattered among the rows with unreadable faces, and Ren Jingyi was there too, clutching her notebook with both hands as if it were a lifeline.

Ren Jingyi waved nervously. “T-Teacher Da Ji… good morning…”

Da Ji blinked once and murmured, “...Why are there so many people?” Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd. “Did someone change the schedule without telling me?”

One of the senior lecturers cleared his throat. “Not at all. We merely heard rumors that your lessons in ballistic energy transfer were… interesting, so we thought to observe.”

“Rumors,” Da Ji repeated in a flat tone. She turned to the disciples. “Who started rumors?”

A thin disciple in the back raised his hand timidly. “Senior Sister Ren… said your method helped her understand the behavior of impact qi.”

Ren Jingyi stiffened. “I… I only told a few people! I swear!”

Da Ji stared at the unexpected crowd and exhaled through her nose. “All of you visiting lecturers,” she said calmly, “are ruining the atmosphere. I ask you to leave the premises. I will begin the class soon.”

One of the older men chuckled behind his beard. “Teacher Da Ji, we merely wished to learn from you. No need to sound so heartless.”

Another chimed in, “Your work has been gaining attention. We thought it would be enlightening.”

Da Ji’s eye twitched. She remembered the strange smile Da Wei gave when she first mentioned she was teaching Ballistic Metallurgy. It was a simplified, heavily sanitized approach to the mechanics behind guns, force transfer, and high-velocity qi applications. It was knowledge taken straight from her past experiences. Before she learned the Jia Clan’s fan arts from Jia Yun, her favorite weapons had been her twin revolvers, perfect for blowing apart demonic beasts, undead, and occasionally undead demonic beasts. She had been wanting a proper replacement for them ever since arriving here, but the crude firearms produced in New Willow were still depressingly primitive to her standards.

She focused back on the room. “Before we begin,” Da Ji said, voice steady and clear, “those of you sitting in the back, have you paid?”

Every lecturer froze.

“Paid?” one repeated blankly.

Da Ji nodded once. “You cannot listen to my lecture without paying. The disciples paid for their seats. You must do the same.”

The external instructors immediately bristled.

A thin man in grey robes snapped, “Teacher Da Ji, do you take us for common disciples? We are lecturers of the Heavenly Academy, too!”

Another added sharply, “This is abuse of authority! Just because you are given special treatment doesn’t mean—”

“Special treatment?” Da Ji blinked slowly. “I have none. I simply expect people to follow the rules.”

The protests grew louder, unaware that several internal instructors had already gone pale at the tone of the room. They knew something the externals did not.

Before the argument could escalate, a ripple of heat washed across the hall. A young man with bright red hair and an elegant, almost arrogant air stepped through the doorway without announcing himself.

Qin Yating, the Dean of the Heavenly Academy.

He smiled with just enough warmth to hide the threat behind it. “I heard there was a commotion,” he said as he approached. “Teacher Da Ji, I have lots of points with me. That means I am allowed to stay, yes?”

The hall turned silent instantly. It was common knowledge how obscenely expensive her lessons were. The only reason her lesson even garnered interest was because of how ‘new’ they sounded.

The external lecturers stiffened as if their spines had been frozen. Within seconds, they bowed, stammered apologies, and were promptly kicked out by the internal staff. Several disciples who had snuck in without paying were dragged out as well, protesting until the doors shut behind them.

Qin Yating sat down near the front, crossing his long legs with practiced elegance. Da Ji felt a faint headache forming. Of all people to remain, it had to be him.

She could not kick out the dean without raising more attention to her. Not yet anyway. It still was not the right time to act against him. She intended to take his position one day, after all. She was close to mastering both the Immortal Art she acquired from Jia Sen and the ancient techniques she inherited from her first incarnation as an Ancient Soul from the False Earth.

Even if she did not fully understand what her past life had been, the fragmented glimpses she occasionally caught were enough. What mattered was keeping the distance, so she could separate herself from those memories and remain herself.

She stepped before the lectern and clapped her hands once. “Since the room has… stabilized,” she said flatly, glancing at Qin Yating who pretended not to smirk, “we will begin today’s lecture on Ballistic Metallurgy.”

Ren Jingyi straightened excitedly in her seat.

Da Ji continued, “Let us start by recapping the previous lesson. Last time, we discussed the conversion of kinetic qi into piercing force and how metal density affects the spread of impact. Today, we will build on that.”

Da Ji lectured the way she always did. She was calm, precise, and utterly unmoved by the dean’s sharp stare. Qin Yating’s qi pressed against her from the moment class began, probing her cultivation and essence flow with all the subtlety of a nosy noblewoman. She pretended not to notice. The best way to irritate someone like him was to act as if he didn’t matter at all.

The class itself flowed smoothly. Da Ji demonstrated different ballistic applications of metal qi, projected qi, and formation-guided force transfer. She explained how the shaping of an energy channel determined acceleration, how frictionless qi currents changed penetration, and how a circular array could magnify launch force even without direct physical combustion.

“If you have enough creativity,” she concluded, while shifting a formation plate to show the trajectory of a thin metal shard, “these principles could even form the foundation for a new kind of technology.”

A hum of whispers spread among the disciples.

Qin Yating raised a hand delicately. “Such a system,” he mused aloud, “would be remarkable if mortals could reproduce it. Perhaps… through a metal pipe? One could launch projectiles with explosive energy, like a blowpipe, but with a far larger payload.”

He was close. Painfully close.

Da Ji lifted her brow but did not comment on how uncomfortable it was that the dean of the Heavenly Academy nearly reinvented gun barrels.

She instead asked, “Are there any questions? If not, I will end the lecture here.”

Qin Yating lifted his hand again. “Teacher Da Ji, your technique, this form of ballistic qi, surely it cannot be limited to metal alone?”

Da Ji answered calmly, “It isn’t. The principles are flexible. I apply them to my frost arts all the time. Even if superheated qi seems to contradict frost, as long as it originates from my own qi field, there is no problem. The same principles apply to immaterial forces as well, such as shadows, illusions, even pure intent. Though the results vary, and it requires extensive experimentation.”

The room nodded collectively.

Da Ji scanned the class. “Any more questions?”

All she got was silence.

She gave a short nod. “Very well. Class dismissed.”

Ren Jingyi looked back as she collected her notes, eyes filled with worry. Da Ji flicked her fingers and spoke through Qi Speech, her voice slipping only into the girl’s mind.

“Do not worry. Leave.”

Ren Jingyi hesitated, bowed, and left with the others. Only when the last pair of footsteps faded did the air shift.

Da Ji stood alone with the dean.

She wondered, for a moment, why she was being singled out. Had Peng Ru double-crossed her? Had she been too careless while gathering support within the academy? Or was this simply the dean’s infamous whimsical nature? Rumor said he avoided politics out of sheer dislike, but Da Ji knew better than to trust rumors.

Qin Yating stepped closer, his eyes glistening with unrestrained admiration. “Teacher Da Ji… truly, your lecture was… No, you were extraordinary! Beautiful. Elegant.” He sniffed, tears slipping down his face with disarming sincerity. “I have never witnessed such grace in my entire life.”

Da Ji stared at him. “…What do you want?”

The dean pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “I fell in love at first sight. Would you, if fate allows, permit me to court you?”

“No,” Da Ji replied immediately. “My heart is already taken. I have someone.”

Qin Yating paused… then wiped his tears with delicate grace. “A pity. Truly a pity. For a moment, I believed I had finally met the one.”

“If that’s all,” Da Ji said, already turning toward the door, “I will take my leave.”

His voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Stop.”

Da Ji halted. A chill slithered down her spine.

“You may not leave,” Qin Yating said softly. “I have not given permission.”

Her instincts screamed danger.

Da Ji slowly faced him again. “Then what do you want, Elder?”

Qin Yating’s expression shifted, the earlier softness fading into something sharp and calculating.

“Tell me,” he said, “have you heard the news of the recent death of one of the Six Elders… the Asura Path?”

Da Ji’s mind flashed briefly to Da Wei’s report, one of the Six Elders had died according to an avatar’s message. At the time, she dismissed the matter. What did the death of an Asura Path elder have to do with them? A problem for the Heavenly Temple, not for their small circle. So why was Qin Yating bringing it up to her of all people?

Qin Yating clasped his hands behind his back and sighed with theatrical heaviness. “The death of Elder Gong Bao was traced to the Heavenly Academy grounds,” he said. “I have combed through decades of records, questioned instructors, examined disciples, and reviewed every movement of my staff.” His fiery eyes focused on her with unnerving clarity. “And after all that, I found only one person with unfathomable cultivation and an unclear background. Only one who did not fit into any arrangement I knew.” He took a step closer. “You.”

Da Ji’s breath stilled. ‘Ah… so that old man was Gong Bao.’

She connected the dots in an instant. Da Wei and his disciple had encountered and killed a troublesome elder whose avatar annoyed them. That elder had been none other than the so-called Asura Path.

An internal groan built in her chest. ‘Of all the people to kill, Brother… you really killed one of the Six Elders?’

She straightened. Her confidence wasn’t small. She was an Ascended Soul, with quintessence, accumulated fate, and two inherited immortal arts. She could fight this man. But she did not underestimate the crushing aura pouring from Qin Yating now.

Among the highest realms, power didn’t come from pure cultivation. It came from mastery of each realm’s meaning such as Spirit Mystery, Soul Recognition, Heart Path. Da Ji, on the other hand, had soared too quickly. She didn’t even know her Spirit Mystery ability. She didn’t know the shape of her own soul. She had learned by imitation, not by grounding her foundation. Da Wei even once teased her as a “genius imitator,” and it stung now more than ever.

Qin Yating extended a hand toward her. “Da Ji,” he said softly, “you are the primary suspect.”

Fiery wings exploded behind him, a phoenix of pure riotous flame. In a streak of blinding motion, he appeared before her, quicker than thought. His hand seized her face, fingers digging into her cheeks with scorching heat.

“I shall now conduct,” he whispered, “a very hot interrogation.”

“You are such a pervert,” Da Ji spat through his grip.

Her palms slammed together.

“Immortal Art: Illusory Mountain of Mist.”

The world bent.

The classroom dissolved into swirling fog and rising stone. A towering mountain materialized beneath a pale moon. Shadows, mist, frost, and phantom lights layered over one another, cloaking reality itself. Da Ji’s presence multiplied by tens and hundreds of illusory figures flickering across the slopes and escaping Qin Yating’s hand.

Qin Yating’s eyes widened. “This is—!”

But his shock lasted only a heartbeat before a manic grin split his face. “Marvelous! Magnificent! FASCINATING!” He swung his flaming arm with glee, shredding several illusions in a single sweep.

Da Ji’s voice echoed from every direction. “You came too early, Elder Qin. I planned to deal with you later, but since you insist, I will gladly entertain you.”

Mist twisted. The atmosphere shook. A pressure far beyond mortal qi spread like devouring hunger.

Da Ji raised her hand.

“Immortal Art: World Devouring Maw!”

The mountain rumbled. An invisible force erupted beneath Qin Yating. It was a silent and expanding void. Before he could reinforce himself, the unseen maw snapped shut.

Half his body vanished.

The upper half was swallowed whole by nothingness, and the dean of the Heavenly Academy disappeared in a single, horrifying instant.

Da Ji steadied her breath as the illusionary mountain trembled around her. Qin Yating’s mocking voice spread across the mist-filled world, echoing from every shadow like a taunting bell.

“Did you truly think it would be that easy, Instructor Da Ji?” he called out, his tone breezy and cruel. “That was my afterimage, you fool!”

From the lower half of his bisected illusionary body burst an inferno of blazing red. Flames devoured the shattered illusions as if hungry for more. His form reassembled itself inside that fire, and in a blink he stood whole again, brushing off his sleeves as though nothing had happened. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Da Ji remained hidden, her form dissolved entirely within the mist. She narrowed her eyes and unleashed a volley of enormous claw-shaped qi, invisible except for the faint ripple they left in the vapor. The attacks cut through the mountain with the weight of a divine beast. Qin Yating twisted in the air, his fiery wings opening with regal ease. He weaved through every attack as if dancing.

“You know,” he said, “all of the Six Elders once reached the Eleventh Realm, Perfect Immortal. We simply lowered our cultivation so the Void’s madness wouldn’t take us. Monsters of that level have fallen to me more times than I can count during the Cleanses.”

Da Ji paused mid-preparation. Eleventh Realm? The Heavenly Temple fought things like that, when they had tone  hand tied behind there back? Why didn’t Da Wei mention this? No… he likely didn’t know. That man never cared about Temple history.

Still, the revelation bothered her. If Qin Yating had truly fought beings from descending realms for ages and won despite his inferiority in cultivation, his arrogance suddenly made sense.

Qin Yating abruptly stopped in midair, his blazing gaze locking straight onto where Da Ji hid.

“Found you.”

Before she could shift her position, he ignited into a streak of flame and appeared beside her. His wings carved the air like burning swords. Da Ji answered instinctively, letting her nine tails whip forward like spears. Sparks scattered across the illusionary mountain as their forces clashed. She hissed in pain as the heat pressed against her defenses, hotter and more aggressive than anything she had felt since witnessing the might of the Warden’s Sun.

’This aura… this is martial mastery combined with world force. Not pure power, but accumulated meaning.’

Qin Yating pushed harder. Da Ji retreated several steps and activated a formation array with a flick of her wrist. Frost qi surged through the runes, mixing with the principles of Ballistic Metallurgy. It produced a roar like cannons firing across the mountaintops. Explosive frost shells shot toward him in rapid succession. With the cover of Immortal Art: Illusory Mountain of Mist, she made the spell invisible.

While at it, she used Immortal Art: World Devouring Maw to suck the qi out of Qin Yating.

“Oh?” Qin Yating chuckled as he flew backward, weaving through the barrage with irritating elegance. “Two Immortal Arts at once? Impressive. But still nothing special.”

He pressed his palms together, murmuring something like a prayer. A flaming halo formed above his head. His wings gleamed and split, becoming six radiant appendages of molten gold and scarlet. Feathers spread along his arms and legs as talons formed around his feet. His physique stretched into a humanoid phoenix.

His aura swelled, blasting the mist away. “Dual Path: Animal and Heaven Unity.”

Da Ji felt the world itself recoil. His cultivation rose sharply into Perfect Immortal, even if only with a single layer of immortality. It was still enough to make her instincts scream. She had underestimated him and she hated admitting that.

Qin Yating opened his arms wide. “You may have more layers of immortality, Da Ji. You may resurrect again and again. But I will peel each layer away until nothing remains.”

Da Ji didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Her form expanded as she shed her humanoid body. In her place rose a monstrous nine-tailed fox, vast enough to make the illusionary mountain look like a decoration. Frost crept along the ground as she breathed once, coating entire cliffs in glittering ice.

She glared down at him with a chilling snarl.

“Come then,” she said, her voice echoing like thunder through the snow. “I’d like to see you try.”