The Weak Prince Is A Cultivation God-Chapter 59: Ink to Parchment

The room was silent, nothing but the low rustling of parchment and the occasional flick of a brush against a porcelain ink dish.

The desk in Lan’s study had been cleared of everything except for the materials before him: ink infused with powdered beast bone marrow, the brush carved from a spirit beast’s whisker, and a stack of talisman paper—neatly trimmed, pale with a faint shimmer, and pulsing softly with residual alchemical warmth.

Seraphine had prepared exactly one hundred sheets. Each carried the scent of ash and bark, the edges layered with alchemical lacquer that kept Qi from bleeding uncontrollably.

Lan leaned back in his chair and stared at the stack.

A hundred chances. A hundred weapons. A hundred mistakes, if I lose focus.

He picked up the first one carefully, as if lifting a soul.

"I suppose I should begin."

But before his brush even touched the ink, the temperature in the room dropped.

A shimmer moved through the shadows beside the far wall, and a mirrored flicker peeled away from the darkness.

Xie Wuchen appeared.

His spectral form hovered just off the floor, eyes like void-filled stars as he looked over the materials without expression.

"You hesitate," Wuchen said.

"I reflect," Lan corrected. "I know what talismans are—but this isn’t my old world. The laws of Qi are twisted here. Mana lingers in every vein of stone."

Wuchen nodded, stepping forward. "Which is why the talismans must be perfect."

He circled the desk slowly, hands folded behind his back.

"Tell me. What is a talisman?"

Lan gave the answer instinctively. "A written command of Qi. A tool for cultivators to channel their will into the world—through symbols, ink, and paper."

Wuchen raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

Lan frowned. "And... a talisman is the breath between thought and action. It’s a weapon, a shield, a command that lives even after the cultivator steps away."

"Closer." Wuchen turned, his voice soft but cutting. "A talisman is the crystallization of intent. It is not just written—it is felt, understood, and infused. You do not tell the talisman what to do."

Lan’s breath caught.

"You’re are doing more than drawing lines. You are inscribing truth. That fire burns. That stone breaks. That spirit protects."

Wuchen stopped walking and turned fully to face him. "And you intend to use them to excavate a mine."

Lan nodded. "The lower tunnels are too unstable for mana spells. Explosives would cause collapse. But Qi... Qi can be controlled. Measured. If I can layer protection talismans around the blast zones, I can precisely collapse only what I want, and keep the rest intact."

Wuchen tilted his head, intrigued.

"I’ve grown more pragmatic in this life."

"I’ve had to be."

There was a moment of silence.

Wuchen gestured to the ink and brush. "Then listen carefully. You will need two kinds of talismans for this task."

Lan’s hand hovered above the paper. "Explosion and Protection."

"No," Wuchen said, stepping behind him. "Staggered Pulse and Reinforced Ward. If you use standard explosive sigils, the blasts will be raw—loud, uneven. They’ll echo through the tunnels and wake things best left asleep."

He raised a hand and traced glowing glyphs in the air.

"Staggered Pulse releases a layered, ripple-like explosion. It spreads outward instead of bursting in a single point, minimizing shock."

Lan watched closely as the symbol glowed bright red.

"And Reinforced Ward?"

"A protection talisman tied to anchor points, not bodies. You inscribe four of them into the corners of a space. Together, they form a dome of spiritual resistance."

Lan nodded. "Then let’s begin."

He dipped the brush into the ink and steadied his breath.

[Spiritual Will: 10% — Active]

The room fell into stillness. Not just quiet—but attuned. His body was calm. His spirit extended forward like a ripple in still water.

The first talisman paper lay before him. He focused on the command Wuchen had shown him.

Staggered Pulse.

Lan’s hand moved.

He didn’t draw it in strokes—he flowed it. Letting the Qi from his core move up through his hand, down the brush, and into the paper. The ink hissed softly as it touched the talisman paper, reacting to the spirit-sensitive coating Seraphine had applied.

The glyphs bloomed like unfolding flame.

Each curve, each hook, each point of the sigil began to glow faintly with crimson light.

Wuchen watched in silence.

Lan completed the final stroke and lifted the brush.

The talisman flared, then calmed—its surface now marked with a spiraling glyph that pulsed like a heartbeat.

[Talisman Created: Staggered Pulse — Tier 1]

He exhaled. "That’s one."

"No," Wuchen said. "That is the first. You have ninty-nine more to make."

Lan smirked and reached for the next.

Time passed in silence. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

By the fifth talisman, his hand began to ache. By the tenth, sweat lined his brow. His spiritual will wasn’t being drained—not exactly—but each act of inscription demanded focus, and it pressed against the mind like lifting a weight with no break.

Wuchen eventually sat at the far end of the room, watching quietly as Lan rotated between explosive and protective types, following each glyph to its finish.

By the time Lan finished his twentieth talisman, the table was layered with red and blue glowing sigils. Explosive and defensive. Measured and fierce. Yin and Yang, laid out in balance.

Lan finally stopped, rolling his shoulder with a sharp breath. "This will be enough to start."

Wuchen nodded. "They are crude, but effective."

Lan frowned. "Crude?"

"You’ve only just begun," Wuchen said, standing. "When your spiritual will reaches higher percents, you’ll be able to inscribe talismans that warp time or sever fate."

Lan chuckled. "I’ll settle for blasting some rocks."

He began stacking the finished talismans carefully into an iron-thread pouch. Each one would become a scalpel in the earth—carving deeper into the mystery beneath Ranevia.

Wuchen turned toward the wall, already fading.

"Don’t forget. Talismans are not about power as much as they are about precision. And in precision, you will find your path forward."

Then, with a flicker of dark light, he was gone.

Lan stood alone in the room, surrounded by the glow of what he had written.

Commands. Intent. Will.

Carved into the world like a signature of fire.