Blood dripped from Xerion’s mouth, nose, and ears as he inhaled yet another Refined Purespark. Fire elemental essence flowed in a torrent through the many channels located within his head, seeking their source.
Sweat covered him from top to toe as the agony of imbibing the magma-like substance ripped away at his willpower. He endured, for to do otherwise meant death. At his Rank, even a minor movement might lead to the loss of control over that terrible energy, and any deviation from the pathways prescribed by the [All-Devouring Disposition] method would result in the burning of his brain.
An outcome he’d rather avoid.
Tears of red trickled down his cheeks as the flame reached his Mindcore. As a Heart Practitioner, entry to the realm dwelling in its depths was barred from him.
Even though the pieces making up his being – body, mind, and heart – came together to form a union, an empire under the sovereign rule of his soul, a monarch’s reach extended only so far. His Heartspace was the seat of his power, with the other territories following his command yet offering no welcome.
They’d be elevated all the same.
Essence converged upon the nucleus of his head, smothering it beneath multiple layers of its scorching embrace. Good. The time arrived for the [All-Devouring Disposition] to do its magic.
A pattern of complexity way beyond his grasp blossomed with such light, his eyes started to emit hot rays of radiance. If a person unfamiliar with the process looked upon his form at that moment, they might think him some enlightened being in the middle of ascension, transcending the mortal coil and becoming one with the heavens.
In truth, he was simply cooking his brain.
Minutes passed as he persisted, the diagram made up of Refined Purespark’s energies and his pathways sending arcane pulses that battered and were absorbed by his Mindcore. A mere instant before the treasure’s essence was spent, a sharp crack resounded through his body.
The red gushing from his upper orifices changed to black, as the blood he expelled took with it impurities previously limiting his form. No more. Today he climbed another step, bringing him ever closer to the unreachable goal of perfection and of achieving actual Ascension.
Xerion opened his eyes, a gesture of his hand summoning the Sui Scroll showing his progress.
Cultivation:
Rank – Ignition
Sub-Rank – Level 3
Progress – 39 of 39 Sparks
Methods:
Primary – Heart – [Empyrean Heartfire] (Mythic)
Auxiliary – Mind – [All-Devouring Disposition] (Legendary+)
Auxiliary – Body – [Nineseal Physique] (Expert+)
Abilities:
1. [Sentinel’s Embrace] (Expert) (Rank 1)
2. [Penetrating Gaze of the Sorrowful] (Adept) (Rank 1)
3. [Banishment of Darkness] (Adept+) (Rank 1)
4. [Reprieve from the Vile] (Adept) (Rank 1)
5. [Conceptual Manipulation] (Novice+) (Rank 1)
Heart Attributes:
Potency – 48
Adroitness – 27
Integrity – 42
Mind Attributes:
Focus – 37
Acumen – 26
Will – 26
Body Attributes:
Power – 20
Finesse – 20
Constitution – 20
“Why doesn’t it show the progress in my auxiliary methods, or how many days are left till the stabilization of my cultivation realm?” Xerion complained to himself, while taking a towel and wiping all the filth from his face.
Three days passed since his first meeting with Team Hylkiö, and not an iota of that time was wasted. His post-initiation mission could arrive at any moment now, and so he wanted, even needed to grow to the best of his abilities.
Deaths during the initial excursion into the void lands didn’t happen often, but they also weren’t unheard of. The thought of disappearing in that twisted darkness, never to be seen or heard from again, fueled his motivation to advance like little else.
His mentor understood his drive to improve, allowing him to stay at her manor for as long as he desired. She soon came to regret the decision, as he simply didn’t leave.
Despite her misgivings, Nadia performed her role of instructing him impeccably, her encouragement, advice, and warnings being his constant companions over the last few days. Much to the disapproval of the woman’s paramour.
“Can’t you just add them?” Duene said lazily, lying spread eagle next to the meditation mats and looking at the top of the dome encompassing their city.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re kind of stupid sometimes,” she said in that matter-of-fact tone of hers. “What’s a Sui Scroll?”
Xerion quirked an eyebrow. “Well, it’s a, hmmm… a representation of my soul? Of my capabilities? Something like that.”
“Sure.”
“And?” he asked. “How does knowing that help me?”
“Stupid. The scroll is you. It’ll show what you want, as long as it’s the truth.”
“But how?” he insisted, the pain from the refinement of his mind coming back in force. “How do I make it add stuff?”
“Do you need some special method to move your arm? Or do you just move it?”
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Try it.”
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Xerion cursed under his breath. He still didn’t get it. Duene made it sound so instinctive, an act of the same difficulty as breathing. That worked for her, but they were completely different people. All she did could be attributed to an impulse, every decision taken purely based on a want of hers.
He tended to think on a matter before committing to it. It was not to say he couldn’t react to events on reflex, yet given the choice, he preferred to deliberate on the best course of action prior to undertaking it. And he loved to dream, to wonder what a future might hold if he took a certain path.
And so that’d be his way of achieving this, of forcing the Sui Scroll to change based on a vision he concocted. He imagined it unfolding, an exquisite piece of golden parchment with black letters embedded into its surface. Then a hand entered the picture, with a quill already dipped inside an inkwell.
That was his solution. What was missing would be added for he wanted it to be so. And so it was. A tiny ask to the existence brought forth the real thing for him to peruse.
Primary Cultivation:
Rank – Ignition
Sub-Rank – Level 3
Progress – 39 of 39 Sparks
Stability – 5 Days and 21 Hours till Full Stabilization
Auxiliary Cultivation:
Mind – Rank 1 Level 3 (0% Refinement)
Body – Rank 1 Level 2 (2 of 3 Seals Constructed)
Xerion grinned. He knew what the text would contain, and yet, looking at it presented in such a form gave him the best of feelings.
Nearly a week before I can break through to the middle stages of Ignition, he thought with not a small amount of disappointment. The date of his departure loomed ever closer, and he hoped to gain that extra bit of power prior to the beginning of his journey into darkness. No matter. He’d manage.
And not all was lost just yet. As his eyelids fell, so did his consciousness descend to the realm of endless golden mists and minuscule translucent flames.
Will-flesh blossomed into existence, a thought-made avatar created as a carrier of his spirit. A palm raised high released a wave of intent, the whole space quaking to acknowledge the command issued by its sovereign.
His world seemed to growl at the disruption of its tranquility. The formless mass of gaseous essence broke into thirty-nine rivers, each moving like a serpent with an open maw, diving headfirst to devour a tiny spark.
The second of his arms arose and so did the creatures, following the will of their maker. In truth, not a movement of his was necessary for all here to do his bidding, and yet the theatrics he performed brought him considerable joy, and so he’d persist with their use.
The misty reptiles flew through the darkness in silence, their tails converging on a single point in the depths of his Heartspace. Xerion’s will-flesh lips cracked open.
Spin
Thirty-nine serpentine heads turned to the side, each remaining at a specified distance from the others. Then they moved. The sovereign watched his subjects from a lofty height, witnessing the birth of a cyclone of golden power.
The construct persisted in its ponderous spin for a quarter of an hour before it dispersed. The eyes of the avatar closed as the consciousness it housed ascended to the world of the true.
Xerion summoned his Sui Scroll, his gaze directed at a particular line.
[Stability – 5 Days and 20 Hours till Full Stabilization]
The exercise taught to him by his teacher – The Dance of the Misty Serpents – caused a fourfold increase in the speed at which his cultivation stabilized. This meant, in theory, that he could break through to the next Sub-Rank in a bit over a day. In practice? To keep that monstrous construct going for such a long period might just kill him outright.
And so he chose to pursue other avenues of advancement, mainly focusing on his auxiliary methods, though his techniques weren’t forgotten.
The improvement to [Conceptual Manipulation] came as the result of his training with Nadia, the woman urging him to hone this power despite the potentially sinister nature of some of its workings. “It’s too useful to ignore,” she admitted begrudgingly.
[Sentinel’s Embrace] closed the gap between the grades and entered [Expert] in full. He’d love to accredit its growth to his talent, but the truth of the matter was: the first Ability created in any given system received an enormous boost to the rate of its development, not to mention how much deeper he could now delve into his concept and the sea of possibility thanks to his higher Attributes.
As happy as he was with his gains, the goal he set for himself for today wouldn’t be met without another breakthrough, this time in [Nineseal Physique].
Xerion took a deep breath, steeling himself for the pain that was sure to come.
The Dance of the Misty Serpents depleted more of his mental energy than anything else, and so his current essence stores remained full to nearly bursting. Not for long, however, as his next endeavor was sure to devour a good chunk of them.
His pathways expanded as Courage-attuned power filled every inch of his form. It allowed him to see, for his inner sight to flow along the roadways of his being, seeking the Dynasphere – the Body’s equivalent of a Heartspace or a Mindcore.
And it appeared. This tiny thing, red and white and pulsing, ring-like protrusions dotting its surface. Two golden symbols carved into its exterior, both reminiscent of the number eight turned on its side.
A third would soon join their ranks.
Xerion winced as he employed the [Nineseal Physique]. There was a substantial difference between it and his mind cultivation method, and it had nothing to do with grade.
One utilized precision, forcing change and improvement through the use of absurdly complicated patterns, all following a set of laws he had no way of understanding now, and maybe not for years to come. The other?
Essence congealed before his inner vision, more and more of it rushing into a single point and collapsing, being reforged into something different, stronger, and highly unstable.
A miniature spear, right there within his pathways.
The faster you go for it, the sooner you’ll be done, he told himself, very much not looking forward to what was about to happen.
Xerion sighed, enjoying his guilty pleasure of exhaling in the most dramatic of fashions. Then he grabbed the weapon and got to carving.
A muffled sound tore from his lips, a bizarre combination of a scream and a whimper. And then he became quiet, as the air escaped his lungs and left little for his vocal cords to work with.
The flesh-like substance making up his Dynasphere gave way before the sharpness of his essence blade, minute bits and piece of it erased from existence. The spaces left after their destruction didn’t remain empty for long, thick droplets of energy filling them and solidifying on the spot.
And so he continued, the work on the third seal stopping only when he gasped for breath. When the last stroke was made, the symbol reaching its completion, he damn near cried tears of joy.
The seal blared with light, bringing with it a more searing type of pain. Xerion cared little, feeling numb after the whole ordeal.
The holiest of heavenly sounds echoed, a crack, signalizing his success at the task. Not that the sound was needed, as the puking with blood cued him in just enough.
He flopped onto his back, the taste of air feeling oh-so-lovely on his tongue. He closed his eyes and absentmindedly summoned the details of his Auxiliary Cultivation and Attributes.
Auxiliary Cultivation:
Mind – Rank 1 Level 3 (0% Refinement)
Body – Rank 1 Level 3 (0 of 4 Seals Constructed)
Heart Attributes:
Potency – 49
Adroitness – 28
Integrity – 43
Mind Attributes:
Focus – 38
Acumen – 27
Will – 27
Body Attributes:
Power – 22
Finesse – 22
Constitution – 22
And there it was, the ultimate confirmation of him reaching the peak of the early stages of the First Rank in every way possible. Well… not exactly, but close enough.
Xerion hummed to himself, looking over his Attributes. They were shaping up nicely. Those 24 points per breakthrough from his [Mythic] grade method – normally 23, but his aiming for perfection upped that by one – pulled his heart way ahead of the pack.
Each time he advanced, 11 points were added to his Potency, 9 to Integrity, and 4 to Adroitness. [Empyrean Heartfire] was all about increasing the Practitioner’s might and making sure they wouldn’t collapse under the weight of their own energies, leaving little regard for such things as flexibility.
On top of that, progress in any of his cultivation techniques – be it primary or auxiliary ones – resulted in the addition of a single digit to all Attributes outside of the method’s category. Three breakthroughs in both his mind and body provided a grand total of 18 points to his heart, distributed evenly over the sub-Attributes.
[All-Devouring Disposition] concentrated on the improvement of his Focus, all in the effort of preparing him for the eventual wielding of Heartfire. A bit of a meaningless endeavor, given the fact his clan members couldn’t reach the necessary Rank to do so since the Dawn of the Dark.
This [Legendary+] art should’ve provided him with 21 points per Sub-Rank advancement, but it being merely an auxiliary method slashed that number down by thirty percent.
The exact same thing happened to the [Nineseal Physique]. Instead of him gaining 9 points per breakthrough, all he got was a measly 6.
Xerion rubbed at his chest, the slight stinging sensation completely gone. The improvements to his body were sufficient to contain the power of his heart, so he couldn’t exactly grumble too much about his gains being too low.
Having accomplished everything he set out to do today, now came the time for a well-earned break. Imitating his friend laying nearby, he spread his arms and legs wide and fixed his eyes on the top of the golden dome. Yes, he’d let himself rest and daydream for a bit, as he used to do, as he loved to do.
And then the dreaded words arrived.
“What are you doing?” Duene asked with a dangerous undertone. “You’re not planning on lazing around, are you? In a house you refused to leave? No no, we can’t have that. Get up. We’re gonna do some sparring.”
Xerion knew the futility of trying to change that crazy woman’s mind, especially after he wronged her. And so he sent a quick plea for help to the Empyrean, hoping with all his heart for his Progenitor to arrive and save his skin.
She didn’t, making the next hour of his life most unpleasant indeed.