Outland Tomb: Thunder Qi Beside the Mummy
With my scant knowledge of martial arts novels, the fortuitous encounters I knew were usually like this: a stern sage sitting in lotus position in a hidden grotto under a cliff or underground, and the protagonist who finds it performs the proper rites before mastering the sage's techniques. But at the end of my life, what I stumbled upon was a mummy sprawled out like it was binge-watching TV in the master bedroom, along with a manual half-filled with self-aggrandizing bullshit.
Practicing martial arts in front of that mummy, lying there in a freewheeling pose under the night-luminescent pearl, was no easy feat. Even as I recited the incantations and circulated my energy, the damn thing kept distracting me, souring my mood. I considered shoving it aside, but who knew what curse might hit if I touched it carelessly? So the days dragged on with forced focus. In the meantime, surviving on wall-clinging rice cakes and groundwater seeping from cracked rocks felt like it was driving me insane.
Don't get any illusions about wall-clinging rice cakes! They're just rice flour mush!
On top of that, doubts about this new heart method—slower at gathering energy than my original one—gnawed at me even more. The only reason I clung to this art amid all that crap was because it was the only option. Mastering some third-rate street trash technique you could buy at any market wouldn't get me anywhere. So I threw myself into it, figuring even if it was a scam, I had to try. I had to get out alive. Alive, to slaughter the bitch who betrayed me and beat to death the bastard who sowed discord between us!
Starting the heart method from scratch brought memories of that time bubbling up fresh—heart demons included. Some say retracing a familiar path is easy, but that's bullshit from the well-fed. Back when I first learned the Wall Force Thunder Heaven Art in my past life, I'd already spent years as a caravan guard building basic muscle and bone foundations. Plus, I'd practiced some cheap street arts, activating my meridians to a degree. But this body? Weak-ass frame, meridians clogged with faint impurities—didn't matter what the original owner did for a living.
The differences weren't just physical. I'd felt it during energy circulation in the lab: the ambient qi here was mysteriously thin. Maybe because humanity hadn't ravaged nature as much back then, or due to the martial world's unique nature—who knows—but the gathering speed was worlds apart from my past life. A flicker of impatience stirred, but I slowly quelled it. I was already giving it my all. Haste would only fuck things up.
After focusing on circulation for a while, I guided the energy slowly back through my meridians to my dantian. I hadn't reached the Initial Thunder realm yet, but I didn't need explosive power right now—that could wait. "
…Hoo…"
Following the basic exhale principle of energy gathering, I opened my eyes with a long breath. The sun had set unnoticed, blanketing everything in darkness. Sensitive to the cold, she had curled up tight in the sheet I'd laid her on, wrapping it around herself. Approaching, I spotted her face slick with cold sweat.
"You still conscious?"
No answer, just faint groans. I reached out slowly, pressing my palm to her forehead. Burning with fever now, damp with sweat.
Swoosh.
Sensing my touch, she turned her head like in a delirium, and the headscarf slipped, revealing her hair. Amid the grime, it gleamed distinctly golden, along with perky, upright ears in the dry wasteland air…?
"……."
Devilish obsession? That was my first thought. Next: I wanna touch 'em. My hand even twitched forward a bit. Then,
"……."
"……."
Blurred blue eyes stared up at me. In the wasteland night, holding moonlight, gazing like sapphires. Human eyes don't glow in the dark. Only beasts' or cybernetic eyes.
Our eyes locked, her powerless pupils fixed on me.
"……."
I lowered my hand from her ear, grabbed the fallen scarf, and draped it back like I saw nothing.
Silence.
"…You saw."
A feeble voice. Hearing it, I finally understood her experiment. No clue what it was or the goal, but the result was right here.
"……"
A few words swirled in my mouth, but I shut up. Blurting the first thing that pops up in moments like this gets you contemptuous glares or knife jabs. After mulling silently, I played my desperate card.
Whirr.
I shook my dusty mechanical arm—the industrial claw barely used except for digging these past days.
"You saw it too. This embarrassing outdated hunk of junk."
"…Haha…."
I figured she'd snap, but she laughed instead. Made me wanna chuckle, but I held back. I know exactly when to joke and when not—this wasn't playtime; time to get serious.
I lowered my hand, gripped her wrist. No medic, but even I could tell her condition was shit. …Hell, even I thought that sounded retarded. She looked half-dead; grabbing her pulse to say she's bad was quack-level stupid.
"Honestly, no clue if this'll work."
What I was about to do, I'd never tried in my past life. Seen others do it, sure. My energy starts carrying thunder qi from Initial Thunder, useless for this, so I'd skipped it.
"……."
Gasp, gasp. She just breathed raggedly, waiting. Fever so high, not sure she even got my words.
"You trust me?"
"……."
Ridiculous—I had confidence killing, zero saving lives. Like all sword-swinging thugs. Yet here I was, asking her to trust an untrustworthy me. Peak quack shit.
Too weak to answer, just more ragged breaths.
"Too hard to reply? Flick those ears then."
Shit…! The joke slipped out; I panicked, but rustle—her scarf twitched.
"…Alright, lemme see your back."
"……?!"
This time, frantic rustling.
"No choice—gotta touch directly."
Medical procedure, medical. So, back it is. Padre.
Exhausted, she couldn't resist, just flopped prone on the sheet. From behind, I lifted her clothes unseen and placed my hand on her back. Her pale skin felt vividly soft against my sharpened senses. Not perving, mind—pure medical.
"Don't move from now on, memorize the incantation I recite. Fuck up, we both die here, lost forever in the wastes. Fighting!"
I warned the limp girl, added cheer.
"……"
She wanted to protest but stayed put as ordered, just whimpering softly.
"Oh, no sounds either—keep your mouth shut. Here goes."
Late addition: caveats. I extended my senses further, slowly infusing my energy into her.
One slip here, at least one of us dies—probably her. Can't be the ungrateful prick who kills his benefactor, so I moved carefully. Late night in the wastes: the quack swordsman's energy guidance acupuncture began.
Reciting the incantation, guiding energy along her meridians, I felt an eerie familiarity. Unlike pioneering uninitiated channels in this body during solo practice. More like my past life's body after picking up cheap street heart methods. But she had zero internal energy. And I'd spot any cultivation after decades rubbing shoulders with martial artists—else I'd gouge out my dantian and eyes.
So, heavenly talent for arts like Heavenly Martial Physique or Infinite Meridian Body? No clue—not me. Just that weird deja vu pulled me into a trance.
In the trance, a term surfaced: …taboo.
What taboo? Erectile dysfunction…? Nah, unrelated to past-life me.
Ah, right: Non-Human Taboo. Don't transmit to non-humans.
Wolf-eared girl—human or not? That koan arose in me. But if that's the meaning, it's human-centric bullshit. Anyone calling my wolf-eared benefactor Pria non-human gets split by me. Transmission judges heart, not human, elf, or beastkin.
Suddenly grasping that profound answer in trance, energy flow hit a snag. Senses caught twisted meridians everywhere—like untreated internal injuries. Bizarre. Non-cultivators don't warp like this.
Puzzled but proceeding, I gently untangled them. Wondered if my cat-tail-level energy could hold, but no stopping now. Sweat slicked my palm—mine or hers? Hoped hers; mine would be mortifying. Ultra cringy.
Incantation done. Twisted meridians not fully fixed, but leftovers she'd clear solo. Snap—energy depleted, I withdrew, ending guidance. Perfect control. Not for nothing I'd ranked among the Three Greats. Exhaling long,
Clank.
Metallic click, shadow over the pit.