The morning unfolded in a familiar rhythm: the usual run to the forest clearing, followed by the daily choice—scavenge for resources in the woods or take another lesson in survival. Once again, the only ones opting for the latter were Thea and me.

The commander—I really need to figure out if he has a name or if family names are even a thing here. Mental note: ask Thea about that—anyway, the commander taught us more about identifying useful plants and starting fires.

Fire-starting, by the way? Way harder than it looks. Sure, I was stronger and faster now, which definitely helped with using a fire drill, but without a proper thread to keep the spindle steady, it felt like I needed turbo-charged hands just to make a spark. And tinder? Turns out it’s a lot easier to prepare when you have a knife—something neither Thea nor I currently owned.

Add that to the ever-growing shopping list.

The commander dismissed us early, leaving Thea and me with plenty of time to focus on finishing the final stages of our cultivation method.

“Thea?” I started as we walked back to our usual spot. “What’s your last name?”

She blinked at me, tilting her head. “Last name?”

“You know, like a family name—something everyone in your family shares. Do people here have those?” I clarified.

Her face lit up with realization. “Oh, yeah! Sort of. We have them, but they’re only adopted after becoming citizens. You need them for things like buying a house or having kids, so only citizens are allowed to hold family names. Most people take their parents’ name, but if they don’t have one, the state assigns it.”

That was… horrifying. “So, after military service?”

“Yep.”

“Great. Love that. Let’s cultivate.” I decided to shut down that train of thought before it spiraled.

The lesson had been shorter than usual, which gave us extra hours to refine our method. We settled into our cycle—reservoir formation, completion, sparring, and consolidation. Over and over again, we repeated the grueling process, pushing ourselves to the limit as the interconnected reservoirs expanded and solidified within us.

But as I was finishing the final reservoir in my foot, something… happened.

For a brief moment, I felt it—a flicker of something beyond the reservoirs. The vast network of energy pathways stretched through my body like veins glowing with internal strength.

And then—pain.

It wasn’t the dull ache of overexertion or the sharp sting of injury. No, this felt like my reservoirs were straining—every thin thread of energy inside me vibrating violently, teetering on the edge of snapping. It was as if the pathways themselves were trying to expand beyond their limits, forcing energy through too-narrow channels like water pressurized against a cracking dam.

And then, they did expand.

The thin, thread-like structures began to widen—not just the larger main pathways, but the tiniest venules stretching to my fingertips, to the tips of my toes, and every inch of my body. They grew until they were as wide as the central channels I’d painstakingly formed earlier. The energy flowed differently now—not trickling, not pulsing, but flooding, rushing with terrifying speed through a network suddenly too vast to be contained.

Beside me, Thea’s sharp, ragged gasps were punctuated by what I could only describe as choked-off screams. I didn’t dare glance over; I couldn’t. If I lost focus for even a second, I felt like my body might shatter into a thousand glass shards under the force of whatever was happening inside me.

Heavy, thundering footsteps approached. They were distant and muffled, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton. I could only assume it was the commander, but his words—if he spoke—were lost to the chaos inside my head.

And then… the final extremity expanded.

The flood of energy reached every corner, every capillary-like thread in my reservoirs. And with it, the pain vanished.

It was like surfacing from beneath deep water and taking my first desperate gasp of air. My lungs filled fully, easily, as if every breath carried more oxygen than it should.

Sound sharpened—not louder, but clearer. The distant hum of insects, the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, the rhythmic thud of my own heartbeat—they layered together, distinct yet harmonious. Somewhere nearby, a droplet of water fell from a leaf, and I swear I could hear it splash against the soil.

But it wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t chaos. It was… calm. A stillness wrapped in clarity.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the sudden sharpness of the world.

Colors weren’t just colors—they were vivid, alive, etched into my vision with impossible detail. Every leaf on every branch seemed unique, their edges razor-sharp against the pale morning light. A tiny insect I couldn’t identify crawled along a nearby rock, and I could see the glimmer of its antennae twitching in the light.

For just a moment—so brief it could have been a heartbeat—everything slowed. A single leaf drifted down from a tree branch above, twirling in the faint breeze. I followed its path with perfect clarity, every rotation, every tiny bounce as it hit the air currents below.

And then the world resumed its natural rhythm.

I gasped softly, my breath fogging faintly in the cool morning air. My body felt stable, the energy flowing smoothly—no longer a chaotic flood, but a steady river coursing through channels reinforced by whatever had just happened.

Slowly, I flexed my fingers, watching as the muscles responded with perfect precision. I could feel the subtle shifts in tension, the faint vibration of each tendon beneath my skin.

Beside me, Thea let out a shaky exhale, her voice quiet but sharp. “What… what was that?”

I swallowed hard, still staring at my trembling hands, feeling the faint hum of energy thrumming beneath my skin.

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “But I think… we just finished the first step.”

The commander stood over us, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. His sharp eyes flicked between Thea and me, taking in our exhausted forms and, no doubt, the bewildered looks on our faces.

“Are you two okay? Those screams didn’t sound particularly pleasant.”

Thea was the first to recover, nodding firmly despite the faint tremor in her voice. “We’re fine, sir. Thank you for… watching over us. I think—I think the method we invented changed something in us. And unfortunately, it wasn’t very pleasant.”

“Changed?” The commander’s brows furrowed. “You didn’t mention anything about change yesterday.”

I cleared my throat and stepped in before Thea could respond. “We didn’t know about it until now. We thought we were just forming reservoirs, building pathways for internal strength.” I hesitated, trying to piece together the right words for something I barely understood myself. “But it feels… different now. Like there’s this massive, main channel running through us—something bigger than before. Everything feels sharper, more… connected. I can’t explain it.”

I let out a slow breath, my chest rising and falling as the residual tension faded. Then, an idea sparked, and I couldn’t help the sly grin that crept across my face.

“Maybe, sir, if you get to this point soon, you’ll understand. And trust me, you’re definitely going to want the next step.”

The commander’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought I might have overstepped. But instead of anger, his lips twitched upward into something dangerously close to amusement.

“You already have the next step figured out?” he asked, his tone sharp but playful.

I froze. “Uh… um…” Words failed me as I scrambled for something—anything—to say.

And then, the commander did something I absolutely did not expect.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter.

It wasn’t a polite chuckle or a reserved smirk. No, this was full-bodied, uproarious laughter that echoed through the clearing and probably scared away every bird within a hundred yards.

“You kids are something else,” he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he caught his breath. “Inventing methods, pushing yourselves to the edge, and now trying to bargain with me about the next step. I like it.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

He paused, his smile softening just slightly. “But listen here—you’d better come up with that next step soon. I’ve got plenty of free time to train, and trust me, I’ll catch up to you faster than you think. And if you don’t have anything by then… well, let’s just say there’ll be no payment for your little invention.”

Thea and I snapped to attention instinctively.

“Yes, sir!” we said in unison, our voices loud and clear.

“Get back to it then,” the commander said, his grin lingering for a moment longer before he turned on his heel and began walking away, his boots crunching lightly against the forest floor.

“Let’s explore the change first,” I said, looking over at Thea, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Her storm-gray eyes were alight with the curiosity of someone who had just discovered a new world. “I know you’re excited, Grandmaster Thea, but we should first make sure nothing’s, you know… wrong.”

She deflated slightly, crossing her arms, but after a brief pause, nodded. “Fine. Safety first.”

We both resumed our steady breathing, slipping back into the familiar rhythm of focus and circulation. But as soon as I felt the flow of energy within me, I noticed two things: one very good and one very bad.

Good news? The energy moved effortlessly now, gliding through me like a river on a clear day. It was miles—no, galaxies—easier than before. Bad news? The Spiritual Reservoir Formation method was designed to create storage points—nodes of condensed internal strength meant for quick bursts of power during a fight. It was supposed to allow us to stop focusing on energy flow during combat.

But now? Now everything had changed. The reservoirs we had spent hours painstakingly crafting were gone—replaced by a vast, singular pathway. A Grand Channel. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it. I’d ask Thea later, it was my turn to name something after all.

The Grand Channel was smooth, uninterrupted. Energy flowed easily, but the problem was clear: if I stopped actively directing it, the energy just… settled. It went right back to circulating aimlessly around the focus point, as if our hard work had been wiped clean.

“Thea?” I said, my voice low.

“Yeah, I know.” Her usual spark had dimmed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

We sat there in silence, two geniuses stumped by our own brilliance. For every step forward, it felt like we’d taken another right back.

“You know,” I started, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “maybe we could just… try making our cores. I mean, that’s the next logical step, right?”

She mulled it over, biting her lip. “I guess that’s fine. The energy moves so much easier now, and theoretically, we both have enough to start forming one. But… I don’t want to abandon this path just to move forward faster. This transformation—it’s new. I’ve never read about anything like this before. We could be on the edge of something huge.”

She was right. I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t rush it.”

“Maybe we could just try to pool the energy again?” she suggested. “Maybe reservoirs are just… harder to make now?”

It wasn’t a bad idea. And honestly, I didn’t have a better one. “Sure, we can try,” I said, though I wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic.

We closed our eyes, settling back into meditation. The familiar pulse of world energy surrounded us, thick and ever-present. I reached out for it, drawing it into myself.

And then—something strange happened.

The nausea I had come to expect from absorbing too much world energy didn’t hit me. Instead, the energy flowed in smoothly, seamlessly merging into my Grand Channel. My internal strength didn’t resist it; it just sank in, spreading outward, filling me like water pouring into an endless reservoir.

It was spreading.

My eyes flew open. “Thea!” I shouted.

She flinched, her concentration breaking. “I know, it’s pointless. I can’t use my internal strength to make a new rese—”

“No!” I cut her off, shaking my head so hard my neck almost protested. “Just cultivate. Absorb world energy.”

She hesitated, her brow furrowed in doubt. “But we’re at our limit, Peter. We can’t grow our internal strength any further right now.”

“Trust me,” I said, and something in my face—or maybe just the manic energy radiating off me—must have convinced her.

She closed her eyes, focused, and then—

Her head snapped back up, her mouth wide open in shock.

And then she screamed.

Loud enough to shatter glass, loud enough to wake whatever ancient forest spirit might’ve been napping nearby.

“WE ARE A RESERVOIR!” she yelled, her voice cracking with equal parts joy and disbelief.

The commander glanced at us one last time before letting out a chuckle, a sound I could clearly hear despite the growing distance as he walked back to whatever he was doing.

“Peter! This is amazing!” Thea practically vibrated with excitement, her storm-gray eyes wide. “We can just sit, absorb world energy, train to fuse it, and fill our, um—”

“Grand Channel,” I supplied with a grin.

She smiled brightly, nodding. “Right! Fill our Grand Channel to the max.”

“Well, it’s great that we have something,” I said, already settling back into position. “Let’s see how much we can take in.”

We both resumed cultivating, letting the world energy pour into us. But the strangest thing? It didn’t stop. Not once did I feel like I was reaching my limit, not even the faintest sense of that dreadful popping feeling.

Eventually, though, it did stop—not because of discomfort, but because my Grand Channel was completely full. There wasn’t an ounce more energy I could absorb. It felt… heavy, in a good way, like being filled with pure potential energy silently moving around the body, and it was circulating on its own, with no focus required.

The original internal strength circulated nearer to the focus point—water compared to the oil-like world energy now packed around it. But I already knew how to fix this. And for once, filled to the brim with power, I was thrilled at the thought of sparring.

I jumped to my feet, and Thea was already standing there, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Still injured,” I reminded her, holding up a finger. “Elric said gentle sparring.”

She nodded sagely… but the manic grin on her face told me the message might not have landed. Not that it mattered—I was lying anyway. Whatever transformation we’d undergone had healed me. I felt brand new, like every bruise and ache had been smoothed over by molten gold.

What followed was insane.

We clashed—faster, harder, and sharper than ever before. Every step, every strike, every dodge felt explosive. I didn’t have to think about moving energy through my body; it was already there. The power responded to my instincts instantly, without delay.

But there was a catch.

Despite our ferocity, despite the sparks that practically flew between us as we exchanged blows, only some of the world energy was fusing into our internal strength. Some. Not all. Not even most.

Eventually, we collapsed onto the grass, panting, sweat dripping from our brows.

Thea spoke first, her voice breathless. “How much did you retain?”

I frowned, closing my eyes and focusing inward. The reservoir-like sensation of the Grand Channel was still there, but it felt… emptier.

“If I had to guess, my Grand Channel”—I said the name proudly, savoring how it rolled off my tongue like fine honey. Thea rolled her eyes, but the small grin gave her away—“now feels about… ten percent full. Just barely spreading past the focal point.”

She nodded, wiping a strand of chestnut hair from her face. “Same. Although it isn’t exactly a new technique, it is a new stage. Let’s call it the Energy Gathering Stage.”

“Simple,” I said with mock disappointment.

“Descriptive,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

And… well, she wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t a perfect step forward. But it was something. And something was better than nothing.

Before we could discuss more, the horn blared—a sharp, grating sound that felt ten times worse with my newly enhanced hearing. I winced, clapping my hands over my ears. Thankfully, it seemed my eardrums had toughened up as well, because they didn’t immediately shatter from the force.

The tank instructor made his rounds, quickly allotting points for the day and dismissing us without much ceremony.

As we made our way back toward the Hall, a nagging worry crept into my chest. Elric had said camp would be fine, but what about the outside? Inside the arena, there were attendants keeping everyone in line, but out here? It was just recruits and whatever fragile power dynamics existed between them.

But contrary to my expectations—and my anxiety—Elric wasn’t in danger. No, in fact, he was standing near the Hall entrance, very clearly being protected.

Two girls, both in healer robes, stood in front of him, blocking a group of three guys who looked just about ready to start throwing punches. Elric, for his part, hovered behind the girls, looking meek, though his aquamarine eyes flickered with a quiet kind of patience.

“You’re just mad because Elric’s a nicer person than all of you combined!” one of the girls shouted, her voice sharp with righteous fury.

“Not to mention, you’re jealous,” the other added, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she leaned into the confrontation.

“He broke our rules!” one of the guys snapped back, his face red with frustration.

The taller girl stepped forward, her voice cold and razor-sharp. “Oh, you mean that rule? The one where you don’t talk about causing more harm than good? Please. You’re a disgrace to the Healers' Guild.”

Oof. That hit hard enough to leave bruises.

The three guys hesitated, glancing at each other and then at the crowd forming nearby. They must’ve realized they weren’t going to win this particular argument, because they turned on their heels and walked away in a huff.

Elric sighed and smiled at the two girls. “Thanks, Penny, Sam. I really appreciate it.”

I swear the two of them almost fainted at that deceptively angelic smile of his. I could practically hear the mental squee! from where I was standing.

I’m not saying it got under my skin or anything, but we had things to do, and it felt like a good time to remind Elric we existed.

“Elric!” I called out, waving an arm. Definitely not ruining a moment. Absolutely not interfering with whatever sparkly aura he seemed to generate around these girls.

Both Penny and Sam turned their heads sharply in my direction, and I was pretty sure they were glaring at me. Could’ve just been my imagination. Could’ve also not been.

Elric’s face lit up when he saw us, his eyes practically glowing. “Peter! Thea! I’m so happy to see you.”

We walked over, and Penny—still a bit tense—tilted her head toward us. “Are they your friends?”

Elric nodded, his voice soft but warm. “Yeah, they’ve helped me a lot. Don’t worry, we’ll talk more back at camp. You two should get back to your guild duties.”

They looked visibly disappointed, their shoulders drooping just a bit. But when Elric gave them one of his signature smiles and waved, they managed a weak goodbye before walking off, stealing glances back at him as they disappeared into the crowd.

Thea leaned over to me, whispering under her breath, “I knew he had a fan club.”