Gunsoul: A Xianxia Apocalypse

Let’s try Elemental Infusion. Yuan focused his qi through his face the same way Revolver empowered his hand. He sensed the flow of his power expand from his nerves to the rest of his skull. His skin gained the texture of metal for a brief instant and then his soft skin turned into a paper-thin steel sheet. His flexible lips stretched into an iron smile. Finally.

Powering the technique cost him a great deal of qi and focus, but Yuan tried to push the Elemental Infusion as far as he could. The steel skin spread from his head to his neck and upper back before abruptly stopping at his shoulder blades. A sharp pain strained Yuan’s muscles the moment he attempted to expand the metal beyond that point. The technique swiftly canceled itself and returned his skin to normal.

Only the parts of his body blessed by his bullet’s roots could sustain the Elemental Infusion technique, so Yuan wouldn’t be punching his foes with metal hands anytime soon. At least he gathered enough qi to sustain it for a few seconds. It might come in handy to protect his skull from harm, or deliver a metal headbutt if he was desperate enough.

Meditating in the locomotive provided Yuan with more insight into the spirit-train’s inner functions. He used to wonder if the beast consumed coal or gasoline to feed itself. Instead, the creature appeared to cycle qi the same way Yuan himself did: it channeled the flow of power coursing through the Thunderlands into its engine, then redistributed it across its entire length.

Yuan wondered if it would work outside qi-rich regions. A smaller spirit-car could feed on gasoline alone, but a creature this big might require much more. Maybe that was why it needed to stop now and then? To stockpile qi in preparation for its western migration?

Spirit-trains still made little sense to him.

Yuan glanced to his side to find Holster also cycling her qi near him. The girl imitated his posture, her hands clenched, her eyes closed tight, her breath slow and steady. She appeared more used to the practice than Yuan himself.

“How many Coils did you complete?” Yuan asked her.

Holster opened her eyes and shyly raised a single finger at him. A gesture that starkly reminded Yuan of how much he lagged behind others in the spiritual arts. A child less than half his age had crossed as many coils as he did.

The number surprised him in another way. Holster radiated qi, far more than Yuan himself; she should have reached the Second Coil by now. Yuan focused on his charge when she did a new cycling run and quickly noticed the issue.

The procedure that turned Holster into a human pillar had degraded her ability to strengthen her body with qi. Instead of processing the qi and redistributing it to enhance her flesh, Holster’s core hungrily stockpiled the energies within itself and gave little back. Energies that would go free at the time of her death.

This girl had literally been raised to become a qi battery.

She’ll never reach the Second Coil no matter how much she cycles her qi, Yuan realized with sadness. She’s hardly better than a Scrap.

Yuan wondered if there was a way to undo a Hitobashira’s curse. He’d never cared enough about the subject to ask himself that question before. Turning Holster back into a normal cultivator would also keep others from trying to exploit her.

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The spirit-train’s whistle echoed within the front car, startling Yuan and his charge. Holster looked up at the metal roof and then slowly rose to her feet.

“Did the train ask something of you?” Yuan asked.

Holster nodded shyly and then looked at him with her hands joined. Yuan guessed that she wanted him to follow her. Though she had grown brave enough to face him, she remained afraid to grab his sleeve or make direct demands. Yuan would have to wait a while before he earned her trust.

Yuan followed Holster to the second wagon. He wondered if she intended to explore it further. He only stuck to the first compartments so far and didn’t have time to check on their contents yet. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to count them.

Holster led him into the wagon whose window he shattered after his fight with Toshiro. After studying the broken glass lying on the floor and the disorganized benches, she proceeded to pick up the shards and clean the dust off. Yuan watched her work with curiosity. Did the spirit-train ask her to clean up its insides?

His confusion grew when Holster then touched a bench and attempted to push it sideways. A futile effort since it was nailed to the floor.

“What are you going on about?” Yuan asked her. Holster looked at him, shyly pointed at the benches, then awkwardly gestured at the walls.

The seats were placed vertically to the windows, probably so passengers could look through them. From what Yuan gathered, Holster wanted to line them up along the walls. The purpose of the exercise escaped him until he focused on the flow of qi coursing through the wagon. Pulses of power coursed from the engine to the wagons in regular waves; waves that obstacles like the benches slowed down.

“You’re practicing feng shui?” Yuan guessed.

Holster nodded in confirmation.

From what Yuan learned from the Stoneskin Sect, the spiritual arts focused on the three “Pure Disciplines:” sutras, the summoning of heavenly qi; cultivation, the refinement of human qi; and feng shui, the manipulation of earthly qi and the elemental forces.

Unlike cultivation techniques, sutras possessed an inherent power independent from their user. These scripts and formulas produced their energy from constellations and cosmic phenomena with the proper steps, to the point even Scraps could use them. The Last Rites Sutra prevented the dead from rising as hungry ghosts should the corpse be buried within an hour of death and the grave blessed with final prayers.

Sutras had two downsides though. First of all, most of their rituals demanded specific steps and conditions to trigger; and most importantly, sects jealously guarded their scripts and mantras. Yuan doubted they would have released the Last Rites Sutra to the wider wasteland without the undead epidemic that followed the Deathsong’s ascension, and he himself only learned a few during his years of wandering.

Feng shui was even more restrictive, since it revolved around locations instead of users and formulas. Most users used to identify favorable and unfavorable lands or improve them to ensure the well-being of their inhabitants, though Yuan had heard that more complex rituals could summon cataclysms, harness elemental miracles, or allow for the creation of supernatural structures. The Stoneskin Sect used one to create a floating island for their elders.

Makes sense she would know a thing or two about those things, Yuan thought grimly. Human pillars were usually sacrificed in similar rites or to improve a site’s fortune, so Holster probably possessed an intuitive understanding of feng shui’s flow. Now I’m curious.

Yuan helped Holster push the benches. Age and time spent buried under the sand had weakened the joints keeping them anchored to the floor of the wagon, allowing the two First Coils to dislodge them with ease. The duo then lined the seats up along the walls.

I see. She’s optimizing the flow of earthly qi inside the spirit-train. Without the benches providing resistance, the power coming from the engine had an easier and quicker time traveling the wagon’s length. Like blood flowing through veins. Simple, but effective.

Come to think of it, Yuan had heard that the earth’s flow of qi traveled along paths called leylines. Maybe the spirit-train’s phantom tracks harnessed power from them?

Holster pointed at the door leading to the next wagon.

Yuan pondered his options. Improving the spirit-train’s feng shui meant qi would flow better inside it, which in turn would help him cycle faster and increase the vehicle’s overall speed. Both of which would benefit them greatly.

The spirit-train moved closer to the Thunderlands’ center with each passing hour, and thus the rad-hag’s lair. If she sensed Holster’s presence onboard—a likely prospect since she sent oni after Maurice and Gru—then they would have a fight on their hands. One that Yuan doubted they could win with their current supplies.

“Best be prepared,” Yuan said as he grabbed his new shotgun. “Stay behind me for now, Holster.”

Yuan hadn’t checked the rest of the wagons yet and he had no idea of what they contained.

They could expect anything.