Back in the quiet of his courtyard, Han Yu sat cross-legged beneath the peach tree that shaded the small training area which was just a empty part of the courtyard without any plants.
The bamboo walls blocked the view from outside, and the courtyard formation ensured his actions remained undetected unless someone was actively spying—which would be foolish, considering the subtle detecting Talismans he’d discreetly layered along the perimeter.
He had spent a small fortune on protecting his courtyard this way.
A faint breeze stirred the dust.
Han Yu laid out the materials before him on a cloth mat: a dozen talismans of various grades, shapes, and attributes. Some were defensive, like the Iron Veil Barrier and Stone Dome Charm.
Others were offensive: Flameburst Scroll, Wind Saber Script talisman, and even a low-tier Lightning Arrow Strip. The rest were auxiliary—flash movement talismans, qi detection enhancers, and even a weak spiritual decoy tag.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Spending good merit points to destroy talismans... This better be worth it."
But it had to be done.
Han Yu had long realized that while his Soul Qi was steadily increasing, his practical application of it in combat remained untested. And having power that couldn’t be wielded with precision in a real fight?
That was worse than being powerless. One hesitation in using the wrong technique at a crucial time, and he could be dead.
So, it was time to know. What worked—and what didn’t.
He started with the basics.
Han Yu took a simple wooden stick and planted it in the ground.
Then, he activated one of the Iron Veil Barrier talismans, slapping it into a groove he’d etched at the base of the stick. A faint hum echoed, and a spherical barrier formed around the stick—a dull silver dome just wide enough to protect a person. Or a stick in this case.
"Alright," he murmured, standing five paces back.
He extended a finger and circulated Soul Qi.
The familiar sensation built up in his fingertip—cool, weightless, yet sharp as an awl.
A thin silvery glint that was only visible to him shot from his fingertip toward the dome.
It deflected harmlessly.
Not even a ripple on the surface.
Han Yu frowned. "Expected."
He gathered more Soul Qi this time, enough to strain his meridians slightly. Again, he formed a Soul Needle and fired it. This time, it did pierce through the barrier—narrowly slipping past the spiritual defenses like a fish through reeds.
But the stick remained untouched.
Han Yu stepped forward and examined it.
No scorch mark. No puncture. Not even a scorch of spiritual disturbance.
"So it bypasses—but doesn’t damage formations," Han Yu muttered, making a note on a small slip of paper. "Soul Needle... effective only on living or conscious targets. No effect on constructs, objects, or formations unless there’s a soul involved."
He moved to the next test.
This time, he activated a Flameburst Scroll. The fireball talisman lit up with a low buzz, and a swirling orb of heat began to form above it, ready to fire.
Han Yu narrowed his eyes and timed it.
Just as the fireball formed and prepared to launch, he fired a Soul Needle directly at it.
The Soul Needle passed through the fireball like smoke.
Absolutely no effect.
And the fireball launched—right at his chest.
Han Yu dove and rolled, the fireball narrowly missing his shoulder and exploding against a fence post, incinerating the wood.
He coughed once and stood, brushing ash from his robes.
"Okay. Confirmed. Soul Needle is useless against pure elemental constructs."
It made sense. Soul Skills targeted the mind, the spirit, and essence—things that weren’t present in a spell construct or talisman effect.
He sighed, but didn’t feel disappointed.
This was exactly the information he needed.
So far, his conclusions were:
Soul Needle could pierce spiritual barriers if enough Soul Qi was used, but it caused no actual damage to formations or constructs.
It was ineffective against talisman-produced elemental attacks, confirming it could not cancel or disrupt them directly.
The real strength of Soul Needle lay in striking opponents who relied on spiritual or mental stability—cultivators, spiritual beasts, or enemies with soul-borne weaknesses.
But that led to another question.
What was Soul Needle good for in a fight against someone shielded by talismans or protected by constructs?
He stared down at the stick still sitting within the Iron Veil Barrier.
Then an idea came to him.
What if the Soul Needle couldn’t break the formation—but could break the person maintaining the formation?
He set up another test, placing a Flameburst Scroll atop a carved puppet with a simple spiritual command engraved into it. It was a defective puppet he’d taken from the dump and couldn’t move on its own, but it was enough for this kind of test.
There were plenty of these in the sect and many were added everyday, having been damaged by the disciple’s testing. No one could care that he took one, if anything it was good since he was recycling them.
The puppet was currently designed to activate the flame if disturbed.
He infused a bit more Soul Qi into his next Soul Needle and struck the puppet’s forehead.
The flame spell never activated.
Han Yu tilted his head, intrigued.
"Targeting the source... disrupts the action."
The puppet had no true soul—but the embedded spiritual command rune acted as a proxy consciousness. Hitting it with Soul Needle seemed to have stunned it—just like hitting a cultivator’s mind mid-casting might.
The applications were clear now.
Han Yu’s lips curled into a sharp smile.
If someone was forming a technique or controlling a formation, Soul Needle could disrupt the mind behind the magic, even if the barrier or spell itself remained untouched.
He recorded his findings in his jade slip.
His power wasn’t brute-force.
And now that he understood his tools...
He could wield them like a scalpel at the throat of any who stood in his way.