45th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd cycle

“What would happen if I grabbed one of those spirit gems and absorbed its energy?” Newt asked, gazing at the shiny pinecones with undisguised longing.

“I would bite you for stealing.” Magmin glowered at Newt viciously, and the youth backed a step.

“No need to be hostile. I was merely asking.” Newt failed to hide his dejection, but then he cheered up and changed his approach. “Is there something I can do for you to earn those spirit gems?”

“No! Mine!” Magmin hissed, its initial amiability gone without a trace. Then the pterosaur screeched, and the snake coiled, shrinking into a ball the size of a human head.

“I will never defeat it,” Magmin whispered, peeking out of its self-made shelter. “It is invincible. It can fly.”

Newt looked at the snake, and then into the treetops, towards the distant hungry shrieks. He immediately understood how to win Magmin over.

“How about I help you defeat your heart demon? I bet we can’t leave this place until you defeat it.”

Magmin stared at Newt with despondent, empty eyes, before the light of reason returned to them, along with the distrustful glare.

“How did you get here? Did you stumble across the rock I am hiding under while advancing my realm? Are you doing something strange to my body?”

“No! What? Oh,” Newt cleared his throat, buying himself a moment to think. “I’m here, I can’t do anything weird to your body, I think. And, yes, there was this really big rock near me. Very impressive. Very, very big.”

“Damn it! I should have chosen a less conspicuous location to break through, but I needed a solid shield against the pterodactyluses. They are out to get me.”

Pterodactylus? That huge thing is a pterodactylus? Newt bit his lip to stop himself from shouting at Magmin. The pterosaurs were smaller than the serpent, almost certainly weaker, and had nothing in common with the behemoth circling above the forest in search of its one and only prey.

“I can help you fight the pterodactylus. I used to throw rocks at them with a sling when I was younger.”

Magmin stared at Newt. “Are you telling the truth?”

The youth nodded. Pterodactyluses were a nuisance, practically a flying vermin attacking his family’s orchard, and he was allowed to target them with a sling. The mature saurians were a foot long, with a wingspan of less than three feet. Even without a bodyguard, a ten-year-old with a stick could stand against a non-spirit beast specimen.

“You look too weak and lanky to me. You know nothing about cultivation and you are salivating over droplets of my realm. How could you possibly defeat a pterodactylus? It can fly!”

Newt shrugged. “You can puncture its wing with a thrown rock. They are very clumsy on the ground, and I can bet you can finish it off even without my help.”

Magmin opened its mouth, then closed it, flicking its tongue. “That does sound like a plan, assuming you can throw a stone hard enough to make a hole in its wing.”

“You said I would grow stronger through cultivation. I could hit it harder,” Newt bluffed, recalling what his father had said about heart demons.

Once formed, they would never change unless the cultivator overcomes and destroys them or advances their realm. No matter how much they rationalize, or how much they learn of the enemy’s weakness, heart demons would remain just as strong as the cultivator believed them to be when they damaged their psyche. Once set, a heart demon’s weaknesses and strengths would never change within the same realm.

Likewise, if the source of a heart demon were an invincible entity, but the cultivator just believed in a fraction of their strength, or considered a trick they played as the full extent of their might, their real power would not matter, even after the cultivator grasped the scope of their invincibility.

“Yes.” Magmin hesitated, but another distant screech helped him make up his mind. “You are fortunate, your abhorrent form and physical weakness have evoked pity in this mighty reptile. I shall instruct you on cultivation and grant you some energy. In return, you shall help me distract the pterodactylus so that I may defeat it.”

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Newt stared at the serpent puffing its chest. The young man struggled to process the sight. Was Magmin pathetic or funny? Was he joking or serious? The expectant look and the short extra breath the snake took to closer resemble a balloon answered that question.

Magmin was serious, which made him all the more pitiable.

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Newt forced himself to sound enthusiastic, but Magmin noticed nothing amiss.

“You are welcome.” The serpent somehow grinned. “You may call me, Teacher. Now, for my first lesson, we need to find a good rock for you to slither under. Then you can cultivate your realm and—”

“But, er, teacher,” Newt interrupted his wise instructor. “I don’t have a realm.”

“Right, right. Naturally, I was going to take care of that.” The serpent outstretched its tail and two pinecones fell off their branches, landing into its grasp. Magmin flicked its tail, and the spirit gems flew towards Newt. The youth barely snatched them before they struck his chest, yet the force of the throw still made him stagger back a step.

“You need to swallow them,” Magmin said matter-of-factly.

“Swallow?” Newt looked at the crystals roughly the shape and size of a hefty duck egg. They were pleasantly warm, and seemed to turn to vapor on contact with his skin, resulting in a faint mist lingering in Newt’s palms. None of these were traits of real spirit gems.

“Yes, swallow. You open your jaw wide like thish.” Magmin ignored the magical sight of solid crystal turning to vapor in Newt’s hand and demonstrated dislodging its jaw, then continued speaking incomprehensible words, which Newt translated to himself as a wordy version of ‘just swallow.’

The youth looked back at the two spirit gems.

I’ll choke or break my teeth on this.

Still, Newt had little choice if he wanted to grow his realm.

Magmin nodded and watched with too much enthusiasm as the youth opened his jaw so wide it made a suspicious click before placing a spirit gem into his mouth. The moment Newt closed his aching jaw, the crystal dissolved and poured into his flesh. Half the current surged up, straight towards Newt’s glabella, while the other half rushed into his heart.

Spiritual lava burned the flesh it passed, but caused no physical harm other than the searing pain. Still, the uncomfortable sensation was enough to make Newt scream.

“Right, you are probably water aligned, being a newt and all. Fire and earth energies inside my core might be a bit too much for you. Try not to die,” Magmin said with some embarrassment, but little empathy.

It was obvious the snake felt no remorse for hurting Newt, what bothered it was the miscalculation it had made, and the wasted time the spirit gem would take to reform, in case Newt died.

Luckily, Newt was nowhere near dying. The pain passed after several seconds, and he was already sweating buckets. The only lingering mark of his momentary surprise were his trembling hands and wide-open eyes.

That energy was tailored for me, but I absorbed it too quickly. He realized, confirming his original suspicion. The red world around him was the remains of the deceased magma dragon’s core, the first realm of its cultivation.

But why is the realm’s spirit guardian talking to me instead of attacking me?

Powerful spirit beasts and cultivators left secret realms and pocket dimensions behind after passing away. These dimensions often contained a treasure of knowledge, high concentrations of spiritual energy, and sometimes they even housed artifacts powerful enough to exist on the spiritual plain.

But other than bounty, secret realms also housed the deceased owner’s unresolved heart demons, and in case of spirit beasts, they also housed the so-called spirit guardians, an imprint of the realm’s owner shortly before they advanced their realm or perished.

This Magmin must be the magma dragon’s initial form, the first step of its evolution all the way until it became a dragon.

“Are you alive, newt?” Magmin poked at the youth with its tail, and Newt nodded. “Never doubted myself for a breath! With my spiritual energy, you will become a tri-elemental powerhouse and face off against the pterodactylus.”

Newt doubted that, but acted along. “Should I consume the other spirit gem, teacher?”

“Yes, yes, you eat them, and I will provide as many as you need. You will feel the realm within you swell. Once it becomes uncomfortable, when you feel itchy, like shedding, that means the time has come for you to slumber beneath a rock and structure your realm.”

Newt looked around, but other than the trees, there were no other features.

“Where can we find a rock?” he asked.

“There are plenty of hiding places all around us.” Magmin eyed Newt one more time. “We might have trouble finding one big enough for you. Could you lose some weight? You know, become slimmer to slither under rocks more easily?”

Newt was gaunt, starved nearly to the point of becoming a human skeleton, and Magmin wanted him to lose more weight.

“I don’t think I can get any thinner without dying.”

Magmin tsked with its forked tongue, sizing up Newt once more.

“There are some larger caves near the top of the volcano.” Magmin motioned uphill with its jaw. “You can squeeze into one of them and slumber safely. I will try to defeat the pterodactylus on my own while you are cultivating your realm, but I must warn you, should I defeat it on my own, I expect a payment for the trouble and losses you have caused me.”

“Yes, thank you. I won’t let you down,” Newt said, overflowing with enthusiasm. “How many spirit gems do you think I will need?”