"Get up, Alwin. This is no time to be sleeping," a voice jostled Alwin.

His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light of the training room.

"But, power nap," Alwin muttered.

"I know, but it's been ten minutes. You're powered enough," said Uchronia.

"Yes, ma'am," Alwin sighed.

Time to get back at it again, and then tomorrow he'd get a sweet delicious day off to laze around and do whatever he wanted. Maybe, he'd find someone to play Tic-Tac-Toe with. A wide grin spread across his face as he broke into a goofy dance, his slimy body jiggling like jelly. Oh, the possibilities! Spirit Burst Blast, here comes Alwin!

Alwin found himself back in the mindscape that was his core. His mana capacity was fully recharged, and after that power nap, he felt ready to conquer the world, but first, he’d conquer this skill.

The Spirit Burst Blast was similar to the Spirit Scatter Blast if the name wasn't obvious enough. Instead of packing the inside of a Spirit Blast with mini Spirit Blasts, you filled it with raw, unfiltered mana. It seemed simpler than the scatter blast, but "seemed" was the keyword here. According to chapter three, section two of Spirit Blasts and Beyond, the tricky part was getting the amount of mana just right. Overdo it, and it would detonate prematurely, turning your core into a firework show. Skimp on the mana, and you'd end up with a dud.

Now, how would he go about creating the Spirit Burst Blast? Perhaps following the same steps as the Spirit Scatter Blast, but replace the mini Spirit Blasts with mana. That seemed like a bright idea, by a bright student like Alwin. He definitely wasn’t just repeating whatever the book mentioned and passing it off as his own idea. But how would he actually fill it up with mana? Alwin had an idea but this idea was dull, as dull as the gel on his body.

Accompanying the standard orange balloon was a green funnel. Alwin grabbed the funnel in one of his mental hands, and the balloon in the other, then jammed the spout into the opening of the balloon. Conjuring another pair of mental hands, he cupped them into a bowl and dipped them into his mana pool. Then, he began pouring the liquid mana into the funnel. Little by little, the balloon began to swell.

It was working! His idea was working! The balloon inflated ever so slightly but then stopped. That was strange, but still, he kept up the pace hoping for a miracle to happen. The only thing that happened was the funnel began to overflow, leaking back into the pool. It worked, until it didn't. Still, he figured he deserved partial credit for the effort.

Well, that's what he got for trying to make a water balloon the fancy way. Sometimes, simple was best. Alwin grabbed the funnel and tossed it aside with a huff. He submerged the balloon into his mana pool and yanked open its mouth, forcing mana down its throat. With each passing second, the balloon grew larger and larger until it reached the size of a pre-compressed Spirit Blast.

After layering strips of mana over the balloon and letting it dry, Alwin was almost ready to pop it. Using a mental needle, he inserted it into a spot in the Spirit Blast. There was a satisfying pop as the balloon burst and a weird sloshing sound as the liquid mana got tossed around, but there was another problem. The hole was just big enough to cause the mana to start trickling out. Alwin's mind raced—he couldn't let his efforts go to waste or, worse, wait for the mana to dry again. It was more the latter he dreaded, but no one needed to know that.

He frantically tore out a strip of mana and slapped it over the leak, his mental hands moving at lightning speed. Thankfully, it worked, sealing the trickling mana. But his worst fears materialized—he still had to wait for that single strip to dry before even thinking about compressing the Spirit Blast.

Alwin willed a pair of feet into existence within his core and began tapping them as he waited for that one singular strip to dry. What a bother.

Slowly, the mana dried, and Alwin dismissed the pair of feet that had transitioned from incessant tapping to mindless pacing. Finally, he could compress that sucker and move on with his life. He created a dozen mental hands and pair by pair moved them into position, their palms touching the surface of the Spirit Blast. With a deep breath, he gave the command. The hands pushed in unison, the Spirit Blast trembling under their combined force.

The hands pressed down on the blast, but instead of shrinking evenly, weird bulges began to pop up between where the hands pushed down. Alwin, teeth gritted, barked at the hands to push harder. Push they did. But, Instead of cooperating, the bulges seemed to mock his efforts, puffing up in resistance.

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Pop!

The Spirit Blast popped out of existence with a loud burst, sending a wave of mana splashing back into his mana pool. All of his efforts down the drain. Well, down the mana pool. Calling the inside of his core a drain sounded like he was insulting himself, but now wasn't the time for pessimism. Just thinking about all the free time he would have tomorrow if he managed to learn Spirit Burst Blast was motivation enough for him to continue. He could taste the leisure. Well, almost.

Maybe the problem was that he was pushing too slowly? Alwin sighed and redid the entire process: tearing, pasting, drying, popping, then reluctantly pasting and drying again. This time, he commanded his mental hands to shove down at a slow and steady pace. It was taking way longer than he had hoped, but he was determined to make it work. Bulges began to form, making the Spirit Blast lose its uniform sphere shape, but Alwin wasn't deterred. He pressed on—or rather, his hands pressed on.

Pop!

Another failure, and even more time wasted. Alwin's annoyance bubbled up like a volcano about to erupt. Why couldn't this be as easy as all the other techniques he had learnt? Back to the drawing board. If going slow didn't work and going normal didn't work, then maybe going fast was the key. Yeah, going fast had to be the answer to all his problems.

Alwin sighed and redid the entire process... again: tearing, pasting, drying, popping, then reluctantly pasting and drying again. This time, he commanded his mental hands to shove down at the speed of sound or however fast they could move.

Pop!

With all twelve of his mental hands, he started punching the swirling vortex of mana. Each impact sent splashes of mana flying, coating his hands and creating innumerable ripples in his mana pool. Why was this so hard! Alwin had half a mind to give up, but the other half lured him with the sweet tantalizing promise of relaxation.

Think! Think! Think! There must be a solution to his problem. The book did mention that too much mana would cause it to pop before it could even leave the core. Was the answer that simple? Just pour in less mana. If it was, then Alwin might turn into a Red Slime from the sheer amount of embarrassment.

But how much mana to pour in? Alwin conjured a pair of mental shoulders just to shrug before dismissing them. This time Alwin created two orange balloons. He dunked one into the mana pool and filled it up till it was post-compressed Spirit Blast size. With a lot of effort, swearing, and yanking, he pried open the mouth of the second orange balloon and squeezed the first balloon into it. It was like trying to stuff a sleeping bag back into its cover. All that was left was to redo the entire process... again.

Now that the boring stuff was out of the way, it was time for the fun part. Alwin got his hands into position, cracking all twelve knuckles for good luck, and commanded his hands to start pressing down on the Spirit Blast. Not too fast, not too slow, just at the regular steady pace he was used to.

The Spirit Blast began to shrink. Yes! It was working. No more weird bulges that made the Spirit Blast look like it was overgrown with boils. Regularly, but surely, the Spirit Blast condensed down, keeping its perfect spherical shape, until it was done. Well, almost.

After popping both balloons, patching up the leak, and waiting for it to dry, it was time for the launch sequence. The mental bat had been performing practice swings while waiting for the Spirit Burst Blast to dry. Its time had come. The mental bat hovered over, ready to send the Spirit Burst Blast out of this world. With a wind-up and powerful swing, the bat hit the Spirit Burst Blast with everything it had, sending it blasting out of his core.

There was that familiar welling sensation in his throat. It looked like everything had gone according to plan.

"Spirit Burst Blast!" Alwin shouted.

The technique manifested right in front of Alwin's body, glowing with the radiance of a full blue moon in a stormy sky. It was beautiful. It was awe-inspiring. It was, hopefully, going to obliterate that accursed wooden dummy. Once the Spirit Burst Blast was fully manifested, it zoomed towards the dummy. When they collided the Spirit Burst Blast lived up to its name, engulfing the dummy in an explosion of raw mana.

Yes! Surely the dummy couldn't have survived that. Alwin grinned and performed a front flip. Unfortunately, when the dust settled, the dummy told Alwin to turn that smile upside down. It was as scar-free as a baby's bottom. Dammit!

This was his most powerful technique yet. How could the dummy resist that? Was Alwin just weak? Well, yeah, he was. Alwin was just a kid who only knew a couple of F-ranked common skills, but still, his pride was hurt.

He stared at the unscathed dummy, a pang of frustration twisting in his chest. Alwin's jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. He was going to take out this feeling on it. He was going to throw Spirit Burst Blast after Spirit Burst Blast until the dummy was reduced to splinters or until he had learnt the skill, whichever came first.

Amid the cacophony of noise in the classroom where Alwin's classmates honed their skills, a distinct sound echoed above the rest. A minor explosion reverberated across the room, then another, and another, followed by many more. That was the sound of Alwin exploding the crap out of his sworn enemy, the wooden dummy.

New Skill Learned: Spirit Burst Blast (F)

At the end of the day, the wooden dummy stood tall, much to Alwin's disappointment. The only saving grace was that tomorrow would be a free day for him. He could do anything and everything. Throughout dinner and while hanging out with his classmates in the dorm, Alwin would suddenly burst into a flip—sometimes front, sometimes back, and sometimes both in succession. His friends exchanged amused glances but didn't question it.

Just before bed, he did one last celebratory flip. The bedsheets cradled him in their soft embrace as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a future where he finally bested that indestructible dummy. What should he do tomorrow? Oh, the possibilities!