The physical human body was not designed to function as an air-powered siege engine.
To drive an eight-foot star-silver spear at twenty thrusts per second needed nonstop, violent contraction of the shoulder muscles, chest muscles, and between-rib muscles, sustained by an uninterrupted flow of tightly packed spiritual Qi through the arm spirit veins.
For thirty seconds, Liu Yun had kept that suicidal rate of fire.
Now, the heat-powered bill arrived.
Lin Tao watched the tracking data overlay across Liu Yun’s muscular structure flare from warning amber into deep, critical scarlet:
Heat-flow fading away failure, Lin Tao analyzed with detached care. The human blood-vessel and spirit vein networks are closed high-pressure loops. When energy is pumped into the limbs without exiting into a resisting target surface, the moving rebound reflects backward into the originating organs.
In clockwork systems, this is known as high-pressure shock. In training, it’s called spirit vein backlash.
Liu Yun’s arms were trembling wildly. A fine mist of bright crimson blood began to seep through the pores of his pale skin, staining the blue scales of his traveling armor. His breath came in ragged, wheezing sobs. His eyes bloodshot and was wide with sheer panic. He realized his spiritual pool was ninety-eight percent empty.
