My core expansion "technique," crude and wasteful though it was, worked better than I could have imagined. Each session was unpleasant and earned only marginal improvements, but the side effects proved far less debilitating than expected.

Though I was first limited to one session a day, that grew to at least two as I gained experience. The pain proved less debilitating than expected, and I learned to smooth out the worst of the instabilities the process introduced to my core.

As my reserves deepened, magical concepts and plans I had dismissed as impractical at my stage became viable. They would still drain my core within a few minutes, but it represented a massive improvement in total stamina.

However, I was soon proven right about one assumption. The process might have worked, but it had diminishing returns. While the first few days earned me nearly a half-minute for my trouble, this growth slowed. By the end of my first month, even multiple sessions in one day only gained a second or two with my strengthening spell.

Despite that, I could not be happier. And to celebrate my success, I decided to re-examine the only spell within my arsenal that I considered anywhere near "good."

I stood within my cave, stretching out sore muscles after another long day of working and training without a break. While I would never call it 'easy,' the schedule had grown manageable after almost four months within Aresford.

Though the results were not quite as impressive as my last time at the mines, I was content. My body looked, and more importantly felt, stronger than ever. Everything, from my arms and legs to my chest, shoulder, and back, had thickened. I had learned to move with the heft of a shield and familiarized myself with my swordstaff enough that it felt more comfortable than a spear some days.

Magically, I had honed my control, senses, and shrouds further in preparation for when I reached Mist. It was tedious but crucial foundational work that might not earn praise but tended to undergird true magical power. My initial plan was to modify my spells once I advanced, but truthfully, I had grown impatient.

I cast Traveler's Shield, feeling the armor slip on like a warm coat. When it was in place, I looked down, running an eye over the shimmering green barrier as I searched for flaws. The green shell was smooth and unblemished, hovering just a hairsbreadth over my skin to ensure minimum waste. While it looked perfect, I still worked methodically, hunting for any mistakes within the spell that I might have missed.

Thankfully, long hours of practice had done their job. The only noticeable flaw was its mediocre durability, a problem I had already solved long ago.

Armor spells mimicked actual physical armor, and one of the most common features included layering to better protect vulnerable regions such as the head or chest. These changes also swelled mana cost and complexity, requiring greater reserves and skill.

I had developed my shielding vambrace as a shortcut, intending to discard it once my armor was improved, but I could now see the utility of holding onto it a little longer. Survival was my utmost priority, and I would rather have redundancies to protect myself.

Besides, I would hate to waste the months I had spent learning to use a shield without actually employing one in a real fight.

With nothing to do but the work, I reached out with my will and grabbed onto the mass of Aether within my core. Thin rivulets streamed out from that mass, pouring down my channels to form the armor. Each fed a portion, and adding new layers was as simple as increasing the flow to particular sections before molding that additional mana into the desired form.

My original Traveler's Shield would form the base, onto which I would attach thicker secondary plates for additional protection. I had lofty ideas for later changes but decided to start small with a chest plate.

It was a simple change but one I expected to take weeks to perfect. Sure, I had honed my control, but experience taught me to assume the worst.

The plate snapped into place within five minutes.

I blinked as I felt the mana settle into its new state. There was still the strange feeling of being tugged in two directions, as I always had whenever I changed a trained spell, but it was easier than before to push past.

The change was also imperfect. While the chest plate shone brightly and was anchored in place, I could see dents and divots where I had not quite formed the mana construct properly. I would need to repair that first, then consider adding additional plating onto other parts of my body.

Cat meowed at me, and I turned towards him as I spread my arms, "Well, what do you think?"

He meowed again, and I smiled, "Agreed. I do think we can do better."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I dismissed my armor spell and cast it again.

***

While I waited for my core to fully stabilize so I could finally advance to Mist, I decided to explore one final lead.

Aresford did not have the wealth and prestige of Volaris, but it was far from worthless. The city processed untold pounds of ore daily, producing ingots and stone blocks at near-unparalleled speed through its great foundries, forges, and workshops. Much like the mines, they never rested, acting as one of the great drivers of Ferren expansion and prosperity.

Moreover, though Aresford was not as overtly magical as Colkirk, it still employed a grim, simplistic, and brutally practical spellcraft throughout the city. Warehouses and shops used enchantments built into the floors and ceilings for durability. Forges and foundries employed bizarre magic to retain heat and withstand punishment beyond their non-magical counterparts.

Only the Everforge, a centuries-old artifact said to belong to one of the Founders, was their superior. And even that only surpassed Aresford in quality, not quantity.

While modifying my armor, I realized that my skills in Forging were insufficient. Specifically, my knowledge of non-magical variety. Some mages might not find value in it, but every forgemaster I could find stories on had at least some experience with mundane smithing, ore refinement, and forging. So, I set about rectifying that mistake.

In practice, this meant I was hot, sweaty, and covered in soot as I loaded and moved containers, much as I had at the mines. My core had expanded enough that I could maintain my Traveler's Cloak spell for hours, but it was little help. The spell was designed to take the edge off a summer's day or a winter's night, not the oppressive heat of a foundry.

I took to splitting my spare time between asking questions of other workers and watching the smiths in a nearby building turn ingots into armor and weapons. They were my first choice, but they had outright refused to teach me anything until I "paid my dues," as they put it.

After finishing my work for the evening, I walked over to watch one of the smiths hammer away at a piece of metal. He was middle-aged, short, and broad, with heavy gloves and a thick apron. As I watched, he paused, considering the length of metal for a moment before sticking it back into the forge.

The forge itself was smaller, but it was a sign of the man's skill that he possessed an enchanted bellows. The strange device moved up and down, fabric compartments expanding and compressing as they blew air over the coals. There was no apprentice smith operating them, as they relied upon a simple but effective bit of magic to drive the action.

As I understood it, this was an improved version of the bellows, designed to mitigate the flaws of past iterations. The uppermost chamber had a nozzle attached to it, and the same motion that deflated that chamber helped bring air up and into the lowermost one.

It was a simple solution to a consistent problem, and I had to admire the engineering even if I did not understand much of its nuance. In fact, the only thing I did grasp was the end result. While past versions would have an inconsistent airflow, this one ensured that there was a far more steady-

My mind slid to a halt. I watched the bellows move up and down, driving air across the coals, and as I did, something snapped into place. An idea taken from an unlikely place.

I practically ran from the foundry, hurrying back to the mines as quickly as possible without falling over myself. And as I ran, the image of that bellows pumping remained in my mind.

***

Simplicity was strength. It was the guiding principle behind Origin Breathing, one I respected even if I did not wholly agree. Exceptional mages required exceptional spellcraft, but not everyone could reach such heights. For them, ordinary magic was good enough.

I was not exceptional, but I would be damned if I settled for "good enough."

My constant practice and studying had drawn out the gathering technique to its pinnacle, likely further than my instructors had intended. I had expanded my grasp over Aether, improved my control, and taken halting, stuttering steps towards a modified version better suited for my body.

But even so, all my ramshackle modifications had done was earn me a little more efficiency. I had to strive for perfection, yet that goal was near impossible. That did not mean I could not try, though.

I sat on a cushion in my cave, legs under me and hands resting on my thighs. My heart thudded, my blood pumped, and I exhaled as the icy chill in the air blew against my skin. I ignored those sensations, registering them from a distance as I slowly, carefully took long, low breaths.

As I had thousands of times before, I pulled in a breath filled with Aether. The swirling, roiling green energy streamed into my body, and I watched as it joined with the rest within my core. I had purposefully drained it halfway, allowing myself the "space" to test my newest modification.

Normally, I would exhale and try to pull as much Aether back into my body as possible. It would clash, air moving in one direction and mana in the other, but long practice had helped me get a handle on the technique.

Instead, I held my breath. I reached into my lungs and grabbed a hold of the mana there. The Aether contained within bucked against my control, and I squeezed, holding it in place with a wrought-iron will.

I waited as long as possible, trying to grab as much mana as I could control. When my lungs began to burn and scream for air, I exhaled.

Air passed from my lips, carrying a sizeable portion of the Aether from my lungs. I had only managed to hold onto a portion, maybe a third of the total, which would have to be enough.

I took another breath, and with that inhale came more Aether. As it poured into my lungs, it joined with thin wisps already within my body. The two joined, forming a larger, denser cloud of emerald.

As usual, some of this power flowed from my lungs, along channels, and into my core to join with the rest of my reserves. It was not much, only a fraction over a tenth, but I would swear it was more than normal.

I repeated the same pattern, holding onto as much Aether as possible and exhaling before drawing in more. Each repetition was easier, and I retained a little more of the mana within my lungs. Soon, the results became undeniable.

The concept was simple enough. Bellows pulled more air in than they expelled, ensuring the uppermost chamber remained filled to create an uninterrupted airflow. It was crucial to keep forges at a consistent temperature, something I understood was significant only in general terms, but it gave me an idea.

I had taken that and adapted it to my core and lungs. My lungs acted as a secondary chamber, and filling it with Aether would create an artificially high-density environment. Even if only a tenth of the mana flowed into my core, it would still be greater and more consistent results than I found with Origin Breathing.

More than that, the energy would flow in one direction. I would take some from my lungs into my core, but the rest would remain behind as fresh Aether bolstered those reserves, ensuring there was never an interruption.

It was an incomplete technique. I still wanted to incorporate tempering into it, and I had a few ideas to increase efficiency further, but it was a good start. I could start testing those right after stretching my legs for a few minutes.

I stood and almost fell over as exhaustion slammed into me. Now that I thought of it, I had not gotten a full night's sleep in days. Maybe a week.

If I still had any potions to stave off exhaustion, I would have taken them and pressed on. But there was a point where training and studying became torture. So, I sighed and walked over to my bed.

I had just enough energy left to pull off my boots, slip off my shirt, and drag the roughspun blanket over my body. Tonight, I would rest. And hopefully, by this time next week, I would be a Mist.