The Shattered Jaw Canyon had transformed. What was once a hole in the ground was now the beating heart of the Imperial Industries.
The Spirit Vein, that pulsing river of blue crystal deep within the mountain, was no longer just a passive battery. Jiang Chen had encased it in a massive containment ring of lead and copper—a Geothermal Spirit Siphon. Cables as thick as tree trunks snaked out from the core, feeding raw, volatile energy into the cavernous fabrication bays above.
This limitless energy was the only reason Jiang Chen could bypass centuries of metallurgical development. He didn't need to find bauxite to make aluminum; he simply fed granite and waste stone into the Matter Deconstructor, and the Spirit Vein powered the atomic reconfiguration to isolate the aluminum and titanium isotopes. It was expensive, inefficient, and loud, but it worked.
Jiang Chen stood on the newly paved runway that stretched the length of the valley floor. The snow had been cleared by flamethrower drones.
"Administrator," Old Wu shouted over the roar of the wind. "The Sects call the sky their domain. They say only those who have touched the Dao can fly."
"The Dao is slow," Jiang Chen replied, adjusting his aviator goggles. "And it has poor lift-to-drag ratios."
He walked toward the machine idling at the end of the runway.
It was not a flimsy canvas biplane. It was a beast of grey metal, squat and ugly, designed with the brutalist philosophy of a flying tank. The P-47 Thunderbolt (Modified). Instead of a radial piston engine, the nose housed a Hybrid Spirit-Turbine. It burned refined bio-oil for combustion but used crushed Spirit Dust to superheat the intake air, generating thrust that defied the engine's size.
Eight .50 caliber M2 Browning machine guns protruded from the wings—four on each side.
"Pilot Li," Jiang Chen spoke into his headset. "Status."
Inside the cockpit, Li, the former bandit turned elite soldier, was strapped in. He looked pale. He had spent two weeks in the simulator pod, vomiting until he learned to handle G-forces.
"Systems green, Administrator. Spirit Injection pressure is stable."
"Take her up. Zone 3 patrol."
The engine roared—a sound like a dragon gargling gravel. The plane lurched forward. It gathered speed, the heavy metal frame trembling, until the laws of physics took over. Lift overcame gravity.
The P-47 clawed into the grey sky, banking sharply over the canyon walls.
High above the clouds, three thousand meters up, the world was silent and pristine.
Daoist Void-Wind of the White Cloud Sect drifted on his flying sword. He was a Core Formation Elder, though only at the Early Stage. He had been sent to scout the "Rebel City" after the assassin failed to return.
He hated this assignment. The Northern Wastes were cold, and the spiritual energy was thin.
"Trash," Void-Wind muttered, looking down at the cloud layer. "A mortal kills a Shadow Killer, and the Patriarch loses his mind. Probably poison or a trap."
He reached into his robe and pulled out a tracking compass. It was spinning wildly.
"The interference from the Shattered Jaw Canyon is getting worse," he noted. "The Earth Qi there is chaotic. Is the Spirit Vein leaking?"
He sensed movement. Not with his eyes, but with his Spiritual Sense. A ripple in the air.
He frowned. A bird? A beast?
It was moving fast. Faster than a flying sword.
Void-Wind expanded his sense. He felt a large, cold, metallic object piercing the clouds below him. It had no soul. It had no Qi signature. But it was burning... oil?
"A mechanical puppet?" Void-Wind scoffed. "Do they think they can reach the Heavens with toys?"
He angled his sword downward. "I will slice it in half and bring the scrap to the Patriarch."
He dove.
"Contact," Jiang Chen's voice crackled in Li's ear. "Radar picks up a single bogey. Altitude 3,000. Diving on your six."
Li checked his rear-view mirror. He saw the streak of light—the cultivator descending like a meteor.
"He's fast," Li shouted, sweat beading on his forehead.
"He's falling," Jiang Chen corrected from the ground control. "You are flying. Energy retention, Li. Drag him down, then pull up."
Li slammed the throttle forward. The Spirit-Turbine screamed. The P-47 accelerated to 450 mph in a dive.
Daoist Void-Wind was surprised. The metal bird was fleeing with incredible speed. He pushed his Qi, urging his sword faster. The wind whipped at his protective barrier.
"You cannot escape!" Void-Wind roared, forming a hand seal. "Wind Blade!"
A crescent of invisible force shot from his hand.
It struck the P-47's left wing.
CLANG.
The heavy aluminum skin dented. Sparks flew. But the Thunderbolt was built to take punishment. The wing didn't snap.
"Structure integrity at 85%," Li reported, his voice shaking. "He hit me!"
"Now!" Jiang Chen ordered. "Pull up! 4G turn!"
Li hauled back on the stick.
The P-47 groaned, the G-force slamming Li into his seat. The plane pulled out of the dive, rocketing upward in a vertical loop.
Void-Wind tried to follow. But he was standing on a sword. He didn't have control surfaces. He didn't have elevators. He had to physically redirect his momentum using Qi.
He slowed down to turn.
That was the mistake.
The P-47 completed its loop, coming down from the top, nose pointed directly at the stalled cultivator.
"Boom and Zoom," Li whispered.
He squeezed the trigger.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRT!
Eight heavy machine guns opened fire simultaneously.
Void-Wind saw the muzzle flashes. He sneered, raising his golden barrier. "Mortal lead cannot—"
The physics of the encounter were brutal. The plane was moving at 400 mph. The bullets were moving at 2,900 fps. The closing speed was immense.
And these weren't standard rounds. Jiang Chen had utilized the Iron Mine's best ore. These were Tungsten-Core Armor Piercing.
Hundreds of rounds hammered the golden barrier in a fraction of a second.
The barrier flickered, warped, and shattered.
Void-Wind's eyes went wide. "Impossib—"
The stream of tungsten turned him into mist. His body, his sword, and his arrogance were shredded into confetti.
"Target eliminated," Li breathed, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"Return to base," Jiang Chen said. "And Li?"
"Sir?"
"Get the paint. That's one kill mark on the fuselage."
Jiang Chen took off his headset. He looked at the Spirit Vein pulsing in the center of the command cave.
The test proved the concept. Cultivators were powerful, but they were aerodynamic nightmares. They relied on raw power to defy gravity. Machines relied on efficiency.
But Void-Wind was just a scout. The Sect would realize that their people were vanishing.
"System," Jiang Chen walked to the main terminal. "The Spirit Vein gives us power, but it also acts as a beacon. They know where we are."
He pulled up the map of the region.
"We need a deterrent. Something that stops them from sending an army."
He looked at Tier 3. It was still locked. He needed more "Civilization Points" (Population/Industry milestones).
But under Tier 2, there was a sub-branch he hadn't touched yet. Chemical Warfare.
He hesitated. Using gas was a line. It ruined the land. It made occupation difficult.
Then he looked at the report of the "Shadow Killer" and the "Wind Elder." They viewed mortals as grass to be cut.
"Unlock Blueprint: Mustard Gas Shells (105mm)," Jiang Chen commanded.
[Blueprint Unlocked.]
"And unlock Blueprint: Anti-Air Flak Cannon (88mm)."
[Blueprint Unlocked.]
"If they want to claim the sky," Jiang Chen said, looking at the ceiling of the cave, "we will fill it with shrapnel."
He turned to Old Wu.
"Expand the runway. I want a squadron of twelve fighters by the end of the month. And tell the miners to dig deeper. We need to find the bottom of this Spirit Vein."
"The bottom?" Old Wu asked. "Why?"
"Because," Jiang Chen tapped the glass of the Spirit Vein containment unit, "the System is detecting a heartbeat coming from below the crystal. And I don't think it's a beast."
Deep below the canyon, beneath the millions of tons of rock and crystal, something ancient stirred. The massive expenditure of energy by the factory had woken it up.
A single, red eye opened in the darkness of the earth.