Sol was in a good mood after leaving the estate, despite the fact that he could barely raise his arms. His chest hurt in several places; his right shoulder, in particular, felt as if it had been broken, and his back radiated pain down his spine whenever he walked either too straight or hunched down too much. His body felt exhausted, as if he had been on his feet all day, the midday sunlight claiming otherwise.
Yet, the leaves on the trees felt more vibrant and green, the air felt fresh and welcoming, and Sol felt an emotional clarity that he had not experienced in a long while. It was now painfully obvious to him how much his focus skill had impacted him. It clearly must have had both a passive and an active component. One active state that he would use to consciously focus in a fight, while the other muted or regulated his emotional state continuously.
Sol surveyed the Verdant Reflection Sect’s training area for the Skin Tempering disciples. Multiple houses offered him a promising resting spot and a warm meal for lunch, as well as an hour's respite, but Sol was in no condition to contest anyone's claim right now.
The only option he had was to leave for one of the dirt holes on the outskirts of the area to recover some strength. Every step sent painful stings through his body, stirring a multitude of emotions in his mind: anger and disappointment at himself, excitement at being at the sect and seeing all these new things, relief at no longer being emotionally muted, and fear.
Fear was slowly creeping closer to him. An elder of the Verdant Reflection Sect was interested in him and his beast bond and had set him against a generational genius who would likely outperform him in cultivation progression and endanger his life in the challenges the elder would throw at them.
A shudder went down his spine when he thought about the feeling that the hooded man had given off: rot and decay. A feeling as wrong as darkness during daytime.
The shudder made him straighten up, sending another fresh wave of pain through his body—another thing the focus skill had muted for him. Right after the fight, it had felt negligible, barely worth mentioning.
Sol passed a few rather luxurious houses on the way to the outskirts, some of which had ongoing fights. If he had his focus skill active, would he have jumped at the opportunity to fight an exhausted owner even in his condition?
As he passed the houses, he thought back to Lun’Archessa. Her enormous size when she said her goodbye was still a vivid picture in his mind. Yet, he had felt no fear, no anxiety—just calm focus.
When Sol had inspected the seal on the boulder that prevented her freedom, he hadn’t even asked himself if it was a good idea to unseal her. It was merely morbid curiosity that had driven him to try. Had he caused a lot of damage by doing so? What if she went on a rampage? Was that now his fault?
As he passed the entrance to one of the smaller houses on the outskirts, he dodged a body that came tumbling out. His aching muscles obliged grudgingly. The superior expression on the current owner of the home vanished and was replaced by doubt when he spotted Sol, who was looking through him, hardly registering the situation.
The more Sol tried to rationalize the situation in his mind, the harder it was to avoid feeling freaked out about his focus skill. He had felt amused at the notion that he just stumbled upon a powerful spirit beast rather than weighing his options to leave and hurry to safety after cleaning up.
It was impossible to say how he would have really reacted if the skill had not been active. The emotions did not come back, and remembering a situation was not the same thing as feeling a new one.
The owner of the home had a relieved look on his face as Sol ignored the scene and continued past them into the woods.
His thoughts haunted him all the way to a quiet piece of forest on the outskirts, where a damp, shadowy hole offered a resting place against a large tree. A stamped dirt floor and a wooden bowl under a roof of leaves and sticks.
Sol eyed the cover. If rain existed here, it would not protect him. Shrugging, he sat in the damp dirt and was immediately greeted with a feeling of ownership. Instinctively, he knew that there had been no prior owner and that he could pick his own lunch and dinner times.
Sol knew many of the new arrivals were more interested in checking out the training area rather than claiming a home, so not every spot had been taken. Maybe he could go around and steal lunch times from unclaimed spots?
When he determined for lunchtime to start immediately, he felt a barrier setting itself up around his spot, protecting him from outside influences.
The wooden bowl filled itself, and Sol immediately discarded his earlier thought. No one would want to steal this type of food: a hardened piece of bread, over- or undercooked cold vegetables of different varieties, as well as raw meat.
Lovely. Additionally, a plain wooden cup appeared, offering: stale water.
Very stale.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Sol was afraid to take more than a sip, retrieving his water bottle from his storage ring. The strain of using the artifact without Qi added to his exhaustion.
With the less stale water from his water bottle, Sol ripped a few strings of flesh off the raw meat and chewed on them while cleaning his bloodied nose. The nosebleed that Rax’Rathos’s hook had caused had dried up and clogged his nose severely. Sol pulled out clumps of blood and cleaned his nose with some water while he finished the cold, stringy meat.
A few carrots and vigen later, he was entirely sure that this was the worst food he had ever eaten. He had even considered turning on his focus skill again, just to not be bothered as much by it. When he put the bowl back, it refilled itself. Sol blinked. No stealing of food necessary, huh?
He grabbed the new piece of meat from the bowl and held it outside his shelter. It immediately dissolved upon leaving its boundaries.
Interesting. It was impossible to share food.
Sol ignored the refilled bowl and took the state of his body into account. There were some nasty bruises forming on his dark skin. The shade no longer shifted from dark grey to crimson; now his skin had turned purple or green.
The injuries were far less severe than his injuries during and after his fight with the Sword God. They were minor, not life-threatening, and as long as he did not touch them or move around wildly, they did not even hurt that much.
He chewed on a piece of a cold, mushy carrot, the crude taste further souring his mood.
Back then, he had been cut to the point of bleeding out, yet his focus skill made the memory rather painless. Dulled, as if he had hardly been injured.
Which was another terrible aspect of the focus skill. Sol was unable to accurately judge his own situations when he was using that skill. He would take almost any fight—amused, jovial, and excited, he would focus all his attention on improving for the current fight and winning at any cost. Even during his fight against the Sword God, he had tried to win.
It was stupid. If Sol could not trust his judgment when using it, the skill was quite dangerous to him. Retreating from a fight was a valid strategy. Especially when facing greater odds, larger groups, or stronger foes, he could not just approach and fight them casually.
Sol slumped back against the tree, knocking his head into it repeatedly. It hurt, but he felt it was the right reaction, given his own stupidity over the past week. Sighing, he forced himself to eat the other cold vegetables—some burnt as well—in order to diversify his food choices. It felt as if he was punishing himself with bad food. Good.
On the other hand, it was very convenient to turn off and discard your emotional state of mind.
His focus might allow him to get better results from skills that did not put his life at risk. Alchemy, arrays, or even simple weapon training might profit from his focus. For this purpose alone, it would be important to learn how to apply it and how to get rid of it.
Sol thought back to the Eternal Blossom Estate. He missed his mother and father, his annoying little sister, and his cute little brother.
The mysterious masked demon girl had been right to call him out on his behavior, and he was very grateful for her help. It was horrifying to realize that he had no control over his own emotions, unable to turn the technique off. Sol felt he might overuse it and rely on it too much, even if he had perfect control over it. Confidence felt very comfortable.
He would have to set very strict rules for himself, even after mastering control over it.
Sol massaged one of his arms. A nasty bruise sent a sharp pain through his body, but it was comforting. It grounded him a bit more and made the situation feel more real. A small bird landed in front of the hole, eyeing the food with interest before knocking into the barrier and flying away.
As Sol recalled the conversation with the demon girl, the key to advancement in Skin Tempering would be to feel how his skin absorbed the Qi in his environment.
His focus skill was also fueled by Qi, which meant that he would only be able to stop it once he had a better understanding of how this felt. Rax’Rathos and the masked demon girl both seemed to have a basic understanding of how to ‘feel’ Qi. Sol wanted to catch up with them.
This would be his first focus point. Until he had a more solid understanding, he would ban the focus technique and then apply it selectively in strategic moments only.
Sol retrieved three small transparent light-grey pills from his storage ring and observed them. Brother Nox’Yanxiou would likely advise him to keep them for later use, but in the stories that Sol had read, cultivation pills often offered new insights.
He might be able to glean a better feeling through this, even if a body cultivation pill was typically best used for cleansing meridians and solidifying his body for the Qi-gathering stage.
During his fight with Rax’Rathos, his focus skill had allowed him good combat intuition, better reflexes, and an uncanny ability to improvise, but it was very clear to him now that the younger demon was far more advanced in his application of Qi.
His skin technique alone indicated that he would advance sooner rather than later.
Deciding to take the fight with Rax’Rathos had been idiotic in the first place, but his focus skill had gained him quite a few new insights. Against the Sword God, it had felt like Sol was a toddler fighting a giant. Nothing he had done had worked even remotely. Against Rax’Rathos, he had been able to adapt to the fighting style and improvise some techniques for blocking and reading his opponent throughout.
Sol washed the taste of cold vegetables out of his mouth and put his bottle back into his temporary storage ring, watching the birds in the tree fight over a large beetle.
In the future, Sol would use stealth and traps, cunning, and strategy rather than over-relying on his falsified confidence. He would pick fights on his terms.
He considered using his focus skill before taking one of the cultivation pills for a few moments. It was possible that he could gather better insights that way, but Sol ultimately decided against it. He would be able to try that theory in the future, preferably after mastering his control over it.
Nyx’Sol popped the pill into his mouth and crushed it between his teeth. An icy feeling radiated through his mouth, down his throat, and up into his nose and head.
As the two birds in the tree were still bickering over the ownership of their meal, a prickling feeling spread throughout Nyx’Sol’s body, and his entire world changed forever.