Chapter 206 - Tempering

Mr. Carter's paper didn't describe anything of the sort.

Could this be the way it binds to one's body?

He didn't like it.

It didn't matter if this was the typical process, and everyone had to go through with it to achieve the power of a Kingsmen. The idea of something foreign linking to his singularity just didn't sit right with him.

He remembered that the infusions' mutagens took some time to kick in, but it would clearly be too late. Something outside his understanding would have a connection to his singularity by then.

Yeah, no. Who knew what this third party would do to him through this connection?

So, as his body began the involuntary convulsions and shakes, he bit his tongue and decided to take the risk.

The risk of linking himself to Axiom at this moment. What if this three-way connection incited a more extreme reaction from this new element? Yet, he didn’t have better ideas.

There was a chance that doing this might be a terrible mistake. If he understood the situation correctly, the blood injected into him formed a pseudo-singularity of itself that acted as a proxy inside him to connect it to some foreign being—which might as well be the progenitor of the Old Blood.

What if that being was actually beyond caring for Axiom's level? What if it overpowered Axiom and still perched inside his singularity?

Mistress Amelia wasn't the strongest Kingsmen around. There was a rumor of 6th infusion floating in the higher circles. So, a being that could support such a powerhouse through just their blood wouldn't be cowed easily by Axiom.

Too late to think about all that. Obviously, this power had to have some catch that most people didn't understand or care about. Maybe the real source of power was this very link that Vern was trying to avoid.

He knew that this proxy connection to this unknown being wasn't the end of the world since most Kingsmen had undergone the same thing. Still, he’d rather lose the effect of the Old Blood than have his identity as Axiom exposed to some outer being.

I have to be quick! I can’t lose. Not to this tiny proxy.

His arm burnt as if it was bathing in magma, and so did his chest, but once he decided, there was no hesitation.

Taking a deep breath that seemed to burn him raw, he did it.

Linked himself to Axiom's singularity.

His inner world now had three spirals. The medium one of his singularity, a large one for Axiom's singularity, which was now linked through the fabric with the former, and finally a new tiny spiral trying to attach itself to the medium one. The latest one also had another link extending out of it—the problematic thread.

In a moment, his personal singularity bolstered, imitating the qualities of Axiom's. More practically, however, the invasive feeling dwindled, and along with it, the pain in his arm mellowed out, too.

The link that had just begun to stabilize between his own and the tiny new singularity unwound faster than it materialized. Heck, the tiny thing became rather unstable, as if the link had caused some kind of harm to it instead.

Not being subjected to searing pain anymore, he had the mind to assess the changes in his arms. The blood was still expanding rapidly, but its fierceness simmered down, flowing smoothly through his body rather than exploding through it.

"Lord Minister, what…just what happened?" asked Lucian, baffled.

The Blood Minister narrowed his eyes, caressing Vern's veins that weren't bulging to the point of bursting anymore. Regardless, he didn't answer and maintained his position as a spectator.

To Vern, this seemed like a good sign. The tiny singularity tried and failed to establish a connection to him. This meant he wouldn't be connected to whatever foreign being it wanted to link him to.

Now that no tortuous pain clouded his thoughts anymore, he sensed every minute change happening in his body.

It was…interesting.

He wasn't versed in human anatomy enough to pinpoint exactly what was happening, but he could still observe the high-level changes. For instance, his muscles already felt firmer.

The sensation of strength wasn’t just in his muscles; there was a deeper stability, as though his bones had been tempered in some unseen forge. Each movement, even the tiniest shift of his fingers, felt deliberate and precise like his body now worked in harmony with an unseen rhythm.

A strange itch crawled up his throat. His senses weren’t just sharper—they were keener, more aware. The copper tang of blood hung heavy in the air, not overwhelming but distinct. His hearing caught the faintest hum as though the room itself breathed in time with him.

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It was…interesting. Really.

He compared this to the changes that occurred in his body after shading his perception. That process had also subtly remolded his body, but this was far more…opinionated and extreme.

Regardless, he didn't want to lose this moment for the sake of his curiosity.

And then there was the pulse. It wasn’t his heartbeat, though he could feel that, steady and strong. This was something else—a subtle cadence in his veins, as though the blood coursing through him had acquired a life of its own. It carried heat, vitality, and something far older than he could fathom.

That same itch traveled through his body and he couldn't help the urge to scratch it. Unfortunately for him, he was tightly strapped in, unable to even move a finger for the task.

However, he quickly realized the cause of this itch. It was…healing him—of sorts. The few scars, nicks, and hits he'd taken over the life were gone—just like that. The same went for his skin. It felt less worn. There was a subtle sheen, almost as if the blood coursing beneath now carried a faint luminance, giving his flesh an eerie vitality.

He flexed his fingers, marveling at the ease with which they moved. It was as if he'd taken a relaxing massage after the most tiring workout of his life.

The Blood Minister tilted his head, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “The blood has melded,” he murmured, his voice like a whisper carried on the wind. “But it's…not proper.”

Vern's ears perked up, and he shifted his gaze to the old man who continued. "Your body subdued the blood quickly. Too quickly for it to have the full effect of the first infusion."

Lucian furrowed his brows, "Is that…even possible?"

Caressing his glass-cased heart, the old man nodded. "Typically, the artificial mutagens of the infusions are the ones that come to the rescue of the partaker of blood." Then he pointed at Vern, "This one…a paleblood to the boot until a few minutes ago, however, somehow suppressed the blood on his own. And so quickly it couldn't even have its full effect."

"Is that bad…?" Vern eked out as he watched the tiny singularity fizzle away after repeatedly failing to initiate the connection.

The old blood minister rubbed the scraggy beard on his chin, "Yes and no."

"Yes, because it means you're not as strong as other first infusion Kingsmen, though I can't say by how much. But also no, because you've already fully subdued this infusion and can go for another one immediately if he wants."

Another one? He shook his head. He'd been able to deter the tiny singularity quite easily, but who was to say it would be the same for higher infusions? Even more importantly, he needed time to assess that there weren't any more threats.

During the infusion, no one had talked about this link to a foreign singularity. Who was to say there weren't any other surprises or repeat attempts down the line?

Lucian interjected. "Wait. So he's already done? I…I had to handle the torture so much longer than this! But this is it for him?"

Blood Minister shrugged and turned around, "Clean up before you leave and tell Amelia she indeed picked a weird one."

Lucian turned to stare at Vern who responded with a smug smile. Internally, he was still a little terrified of what would have happened had the blood succeeded in forming a proxy connection to that foreign thing, but he didn't let it show.

Since no one seemed to know or care about it, he wasn't going to spell it out for them either. It was a little off that Mr. Carter's publication didn't include anything about this aspect of infusions, but he had conjectures as to why.

Maybe he didn't know either.

Most observers only ever had one singularity. There was a possibility they couldn't even fathom the concept of something foreign existing in the innermost sanctum of their self.

This was the trick with perception. Something could be right in front of one's eyes, but if they didn't know about its existence, they would fail to perceive it. He believed if he simply told Mr. Carter that such a thing was happening, he'd see it right away.

I'll try and slip in some hints. See what reaction he has. Because there was another possibility. He might have intentionally skipped over this crucial detail to make the old blood seem less insidious than it was. That would suggest he had an agenda.

Vern narrowed his eyes. They were supposed to meet Mr. Carter once he recovered. Osric had expected the recovery to take a while, but things had clearly changed.

"Hahhh…" Lucian suddenly sighed. "Fuck you, man. Here I thought I'd get a good show. What a letdown."

Vern attempted to push through and break his shackles—obviously failing at it as he scoffed, "Didn't know you were a sadist as well, Lucian."

"Hey! I fucking cried during my infusion. It's not fair that you get off so easily. You've got a trick up your sleeve, right?" Suddenly, his gaze turned conspiratorial, "Hmm, you're actually the son of some big shot with an ancient bloodline playing pretend as a commoner, right?"

Tapping the fist on his palm, he nodded vigorously, "That has to be it! That's why I lost to you."

Vern gave him an unimpressed stare which turned Lucian uncomfortable real quick as he awkwardly coughed, looking for support for his conspiracies from the bloodied walls.

Once Lucian began scratching his hair in embarrassment, Vern groaned, "Can you let me out already, or shall I ask my big shot dad to come order you?" His attempts at breaking out of the cranksteel straps had obviously failed. I definitely feel way stronger, but it's not exactly superhuman either.

"Ahh, haha. Right, right." Lucian moved, quickly unlocking the cuffs and straps.

Vern sat straight up, rubbed his wrist, flexing his fingers. It was a refreshing experience. Everything felt a touch smoother, and his muscle-mind connection was better than ever before.

I need to play around with Duality. Also…also, I need a couple of training sessions with Mistress. Also, I need to learn how to use ropecaster!

That last one was the most important. He knew the physics of it, but habit and practice were something he sorely lacked. If he tried one right now, he'd be smashing headfirst into some random wall.

Hmm, but I also need to test how much my body has improved. The blood minister said the blood hadn't had the full effect because Vern controlled it too quickly. However, he had no regrets about that.

He would take a less effective infusion over having a singularity connection with some unknown thing any day. Sure, it won't make him as deadly as a full-fledged Kingsman, but the sanctity of his inner self was far more critical in the long run.

He quickly cleaned up the room to match how it looked before they'd come here and, once done, shouted, "Thank you for the assistance. We'll take our leave now."

"Turn off the light, too," came the grumpy voice from inside.

Vern just shook his head. This was a weird experience. He didn't see any effect from the presence of this Blood Minister, but he was neither all-seeing nor did he presume to be one. Maybe there were things at play he didn't yet see about this blood.

All in its own time.

This was good enough for now. He was one step closer to his goals. It was progress, and that's all that mattered.

"Let's go meet Mr. Carter now," he said, nodding at Lucian.