The gate at the crown of Pei Jing’s head opened. Crimson-gold qi-blood rose from his Baihui point in a single column. The Armored Martial Soul rode the force out into the open air.
It was nine inches tall and weighed seventy pounds. Its gold plates held against the void. It climbed toward the spear while Pei Jing stood with his legs in the magma below.
They met thirty yards above the basin. The twelve-foot shaft was still turning inside its rings of script. The soul left its little blade at its hip. It locked both gauntlets around the narrow neck just behind the point. The link to Pei Jing’s spine braced it from below.
A purple disc spread from the point of contact, two miles wide. Light reached both sides of the mountain. For an instant there was almost no air to carry a sound.
The soul’s shoulder plates bent. Its elbows drew in under the weight. Its hands held.
Through the woven links, Pei Jing took the force down his spine. The floor under the magma broke. What remained of the mountain settled four feet into the earth. Far below, the Void Eye flared and took part of the shock. Pei Jing’s knees bent. His bones stayed whole.
