Of course, I couldn't forget Christine. Even though she'd been very excited to see Emma break through to Meridian Opening, she'd already reached that realm earlier. Now she sat comfortably at the second layer and still made steady progress.
She'd become quite a famous hunter in the wild. Her lightning affinity proved very memorable, especially since I'd pulled no punches giving her the best lightning-related techniques I could find in Jihasti's memories.
People had taken to calling her "The Flash" because of her notable technique, Lightning Step, that literally flashed her short distances in an instant. Ever since opening her meridians and gaining the ability to use spiritual techniques, she'd carved out a reputation among the growing cultivator population.
Christine loved the attention. Loved the thrill of hunting spiritual beasts, the challenge of testing herself against creatures that could kill her in seconds if she made mistakes. She'd embraced cultivation with the same enthusiasm she brought to robotics and drama club.
Because of my own fame as an accomplished craftsman, our family was beginning to attract attention. Even Tyler, who was barely about to reach Meridian Opening, had already gained notoriety for being a pioneer and exploring where others didn't dare venture yet.
His solo expeditions into the deeper forests, camping between massive tree roots while spiritual beasts prowled nearby, had earned him respect among the more adventurous cultivators. The fact that he'd killed a Shadow Stalker alone and survived to tell the tale only added to his growing legend.
Of course, the biggest reason they could go out into the wild was because all of my family members and friends were fully geared with the latest equipment and had access to expensive high-level techniques.
Christine wore self-equipping armor that materialized at the first sign of danger. Tyler carried weapons I'd personally crafted, inscribed with formations that enhanced their cutting power and durability. Emma now possessed similar gear, though she hadn't tested it in actual combat yet.
The equipment alone cost more merit points than most cultivators earned in months. The techniques I'd given them came from Jihasti's personal collection, knowledge that would sell for fortunes if I ever put them in the All Paths Library.
Right now people took my crafts for granted. Most hadn't reached Meridian Opening yet, which meant they had no ability to try crafting for themselves. Most were under the impression that as soon as they broke through, they'd replace me by crafting even better gear.
I didn't bother to correct their view on this. The only reason it came so effortlessly to me was because I could draw upon the vast experience and knowledge of a God, Jihasti. Once people attempted to perform crafts on their own, they'd soon see that it wasn't as simple as smashing ingredients together and pressing the "craft" button.
Inscription required perfect vital energy control, understanding of how different materials conducted spiritual energy, knowledge of geometric patterns that created specific effects. Formation work demanded spatial awareness, mathematical precision, the ability to visualize complex three-dimensional structures.
Alchemy was even worse. Temperature control, timing, understanding how different spiritual herbs interacted, knowing which impurities to remove and which to keep for specific effects.
Most cultivators would spend years learning basic techniques, decades mastering advanced methods. I'd started with millennia of accumulated knowledge already installed in my mind, practical experience from countless refinement sessions flowing through my muscle memory.
Let them think they'd replace me. Reality would teach them humility soon enough.
As for overall exploration of the Eastern Region, the progress felt slow. Although each of the cities I built were close to each other within ten thousand miles, without travel equipment, this distance was almost impossible to walk at such low cultivation levels.
Most cultivators ventured maybe a hundred miles from the cities before turning back. The spiritual beasts grew stronger the farther you traveled, and without proper transportation, even reaching the next city became a month-long trek through dangerous wilderness.
I felt it was time for me to provide at least a minimum of travel equipment for the public.
In the cultivation world, it was almost unheard of to find any kind of travel equipment that couldn't fly as its most basic property. More advanced equipment would actually enclose the user to allow them travel in space or underwater. The really high-end stuff could phase through dimensions, teleport across continents, or survive atmospheric reentry.
However, the most basic, and probably most iconic, travel equipment was the flying sword. This one often made the first choice among younger cultivators as it served two purposes. First, it could be controlled by vital energy remotely, allowing it to be used in combat to attack at a distance. Second, it could be controlled by vital energy remotely, allowing it to be stood on for fast travel.
Not to mention that everyone read about flying swords in cultivation novels and probably thought it was the coolest thing ever.
I could already imagine the demand once I started selling them. Every cultivator who'd consumed wuxia stories growing up would want one immediately, practicality be damned. The image of standing on a sword, flying through the clouds with robes billowing dramatically, held too much appeal to resist.
The drawbacks of a simple flying sword were also apparent. No surrounding enclosure to protect the cultivator from outside environment meant you couldn't travel too fast or you'd turn yourself into a bug catcher. Wind resistance alone would peel your eyelids back at high speeds. To avoid this, one would have to expend extra vital energy to cover themselves in a barrier. This often meant sword flight was kept to short distances.
Still, for traveling between cities in the Eastern Region, flying swords would work perfectly fine. A cultivator at Meridian Opening could maintain a protective barrier for several hours, long enough to cross the distance between American City and Russian City if they flew in a straight line.
Another common and well used travel equipment would be the shuttle. Simply put, a torpedo shaped artifact that you climbed inside. These often included the ability to fly in space and underwater. Better quality shuttles could even warp between space for long distance jumps.
Shuttles offered far more protection and versatility than swords, but they lacked the combat application. You couldn't remotely control a shuttle to attack your enemies while you fought separately. They served purely as transportation, which made them less appealing to young cultivators who wanted their equipment to serve multiple purposes.
I pulled out several blank pieces of spiritual metal from my storage ring, considering designs. Flying swords needed to be aerodynamic enough for stable flight but heavy enough to carry a person's weight without wobbling. The inscriptions had to balance propulsion, stability, and vital energy efficiency.
Shuttles required even more complex work. Environmental seals, air recycling formations, structural reinforcement to handle high-speed impacts. The better versions included spatial compression inside to create more living space than the exterior suggested.
Starting with the simpler option made sense. I'd craft flying swords first, get them into circulation, let people experience the freedom of flight. Once they understood the limitations, they'd appreciate shuttles more and be willing to pay premium prices for the upgrade.
For flying swords, I needed materials that balanced weight, durability, and vital energy conductivity. Too heavy and the sword would require constant energy expenditure just to stay airborne. Too light and it would lack the structural integrity needed for combat.
I selected Skyiron Ore first, a pale blue metal that naturally resonated with wind element vital energy. Its surface rippled with faint patterns that resembled cloud formations frozen in stone. Second came Razorstone, the same crystalline mineral I'd used for my earlier daggers. For a combat-focused flying sword, the cutting edge needed to be exceptional. Finally, I grabbed a chunk of Condensation Jade, which would help channel vital energy efficiently throughout the finished blade.
The furnace sat ready on the palace floor. I fed vital energy into its base inscription, watching flames erupt inside and split into three separate fires. Each flame hung suspended in the air, waiting for materials.
I dropped the Skyiron Ore into the leftmost flame. The metal began to glow almost immediately, its natural affinity for heat making it eager to melt. Through the sensory inscription, I monitored the temperature carefully. The ore needed high heat to break down completely, but not so much that it would lose the properties that made it valuable for flight.
Black impurities rose to the surface like scum on dirty water. I used vital energy to skim them away, pulling the worthless slag up and out of the furnace. The pure Skyiron beneath gleamed with an almost ethereal quality, pale blue light pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.
The Razorstone went into the center flame. This one demanded precision. Too much heat would destroy the crystalline structure that gave it those molecular-sharp edges. Too little and it wouldn't melt at all. I adjusted the temperature carefully, watching as the outer layers of worthless stone began to flake away. The pure cutting material emerged slowly, revealing edges so sharp they seemed to cut through the air itself.
The Condensation Jade took the rightmost flame, spinning slowly as it heated. This ore resisted temperature changes stubbornly, its crystalline structure designed to remain stable under extreme conditions. That same property made it perfect for vital energy channeling, since the molecular bonds wouldn't degrade even under constant spiritual pressure.
My meridians burned with exertion as I maintained three separate flames while simultaneously monitoring each ore's refinement process. The four channels I'd opened felt stretched thin, struggling to supply enough power for everything at once.
The Heavenly Dao supplemented my energy before I could even ask. Cool power flooded through my meridians, stabilizing the flames and easing the strain on my cultivation base.
All three ores hung suspended before me in liquid form. The Skyiron rippled like water caught mid-flow, its pale blue surface reflecting light that didn't exist. The Razorstone gleamed with dangerous brilliance, edges visible even in its molten state. The Condensation Jade pulsed with steady green light, already eager to channel energy.
I drew them together carefully, watching as the three metals drifted through the air like luminous clouds. The Skyiron formed the bulk of the blade, wrapping around the other materials. I threaded Razorstone along what would become the cutting edge, a thin line of crystalline death. The Condensation Jade I distributed throughout in careful amounts, creating pathways for vital energy to flow from hilt to tip without resistance.
The molten mixture poured out onto a flat stone I'd prepared. I shaped it with vital energy, drawing the metal into a traditional sword form. Three feet long, single edged, with a gentle curve that would slice through air resistance during flight. The spine thickened for structural integrity while the edge thinned to molecular sharpness where the Razorstone concentrated.
While the metal cooled, I began carving inscriptions. The first ran along the blade's flat, a flight stabilization inscription that would keep the sword level even under turbulent conditions. The pattern resembled a bird's skeletal structure, each line representing a different aspect of aerodynamic balance.
The second inscription wrapped around the tang, an energy efficiency inscription that would minimize vital energy drain during extended flight. This one looked like interlocking gears, each segment reducing waste and recycling power back into the system.
The third inscription covered the fuller, a remote control inscription that would let the wielder command the sword's movements from a distance. Combat applications demanded this, since standing on the blade limited offensive options significantly. The pattern branched like a nervous system, creating pathways for mental commands to translate into physical movement.
The sword solidified, steam rising from its surface as the last heat dissipated.
I picked it up, testing the weight. Four pounds, perfectly balanced at the guard. The pale blue Skyiron base made the Razorstone edge appear even sharper by contrast, a line of crystalline death running the blade's entire length. I pressed my thumb against the flat and channeled vital energy through it.
All three inscriptions activated smoothly. The flight stabilization inscription hummed with readiness, eager to take to the air. The energy efficiency inscription pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, already optimizing power flow. The remote control inscription connected to my spiritual sense, waiting for commands.
I stepped onto the blade.
The blade lifted smoothly beneath my feet, responding to the slightest shift in my vital energy. I rose into the air above the Core Palace, the sword humming with contained power as it stabilized.
Flight felt natural, almost instinctive. The stabilization inscription handled the complex adjustments needed to keep me level, compensating for wind resistance and subtle weight shifts without conscious input. I leaned forward slightly, and the sword accelerated, cutting through the air with barely a whisper.
I pushed the speed higher, watching the palace grounds blur beneath me. Wind whipped at my face and clothes until I extended a barrier of vital energy around myself. The energy efficiency inscription kicked in immediately, recycling the power I used for the barrier back into the flight system. Clever. The sword maintained its speed while my vital energy drain dropped to almost nothing.
Banking left, I tested the maneuverability. The blade responded instantly, pivoting on its center axis without losing altitude. I spiraled upward in a tight corkscrew, then dove back down in a controlled descent. The flight characteristics remained stable throughout, no wobbling or unexpected resistance.
Time to test the combat application.
I stepped off the sword mid-flight, dropping toward the ground while simultaneously commanding it to attack a nearby boulder. The remote control inscription flared to life, translating my mental commands into physical movement. The sword shot forward like a missile, the Razorstone edge striking the boulder with devastating force.
The rock split cleanly in half.
The sword circled back to me, hovering at waist height as I landed. I jumped back on and resumed flight, grinning at the successful demonstration. A cultivator could fight on foot while their sword attacked independently, or ride it for rapid repositioning, or combine both approaches for devastating tactical flexibility.
Perfect.
I returned to the palace floor and immediately began mass production. The process went faster now that I'd established a working design. I pulled ore from my storage ring in bulk quantities, filling the furnace with enough material to craft five swords simultaneously.
The inscriptions became muscle memory. My hands carved the patterns without conscious thought, each line placed with precision born from repetition. Melt, refine, combine, shape, carve. The cycle repeated endlessly, weapons taking form in assembly-line efficiency.
By the time my vital energy finally ran dry despite the Heavenly Dao's supplementation, I'd created over five hundred flying swords across these past few days. They floated in neat rows across the palace floor, each one identical to the prototype. Pale blue Skyiron bases gleamed with Razorstone edges, all three inscriptions perfectly carved into every blade.
I gathered them into my storage ring and teleported to a hidden alley near the Heavenly Forge Emporium.
Rachel looked up from the counter as I entered the shop, her expression brightening. The shop had been relatively quiet lately, most customers still working toward Meridian Opening and unable to afford the higher-end equipment.
"New inventory," I said, pulling the flying swords from my ring. They arranged themselves in a hovering display, rotating slowly to show off their craftsmanship.
Rachel's eyes widened. "A new sword?"
"Not just a sword—a flying sword!" I handed one to Rachel with a grin. "Price them at twenty-five thousand merit points each, and make sure everyone knows they can only be controlled remotely after reaching Meridian Opening realm."
She nodded, her eyes widening in excitement as she began updating the shop's catalog through her identity token. The virtual space would broadcast the new availability within minutes, and I had no doubt the forums would explode with activity.
"Oh, and don't forget to make sure everyone knows that flying artifacts won't work inside a city, so before claiming it doesn't work, they need to go outside first."
Of course, all my cities came complete with Sky Dampening Formations that prevented people from using any kind of flight equipment within their boundaries. In the cultivation world, this was pretty much standard for all cities.