Have you ever wondered why many awakeneds are unable to advance beyond a certain tier, no matter the amount of energy cores they absorb? The answer is simple: the body cannot advance above the spirit. If the spirit fails to grow, the body ceases to do the same.
Incomplete drive on the importance of spirit cultivation.
Professor Kator Aheizer Silverblood (HRH).
Sunstone. Year 2247.
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It was like time had come to a stop as Aodhán glared at the glittery white dust on his palm. It was all that remained of the Rizzel's core.
He'd gone up a tier from absorbing the core, yet he was annoyed. Why didn't Az tell him about this? Why leave out such an important detail?
He could already imagine Az waving dismissively and saying, "I was confident you'd figure it out soon enough, and of course I was right."
Also, he figured that the reason he'd only advanced a single tier after absorbing a Tier 2 core was due to his evolved status; it seemed he would require a lot more energy to ascend each tier compared to mundane awakeneds.
Aodhán moved his arms, savoring the refreshed feeling that had come with his advancement. He also suspected he'd gained more strength, but without a status sheet, he couldn't estimate just how much stronger he'd gotten.
Still, he could feel it in the slight bulging of his muscles. He couldn't crush a rock or lift a car yet, but he knew he'd gotten a bit stronger than before.
With a grin and a plan for the next day, Aodhán moved to begin preparations for dinner. He created another stormcloud as he was in need of water, but he was unable to hold the image of the two storm clouds in his mind and have them act differently, so they both dissipated into black smoke and disappeared from view.
With a frustrated sigh, he created another storm cloud and used the drizzle of rain to wash the meat after taking out its entrails.
When he was done, he tried to control the storm, willing the rain to stop, but the cloud resisted, and he realized that the energy expenditure for such a feat was more than he could supply currently, so he just dispelled the cloud and created another one.
He'd learned something from the experience, though; he could now create two types of stormclouds, one with rain and the other without. Perhaps it was more appropriate to say that the cloud without rain was an incomplete or neophyte storm cloud.
He could also turn off the rain of an already-made storm and vice versa, but it required a larger amount of energy than he currently possessed.
As the wind picked up once more, Aodhán created a wooden structure above the burning logs to roast the meat. He had little experience with this outside of what he'd seen in movies or paintings, but he made up for it with painstaking effort.
After several minutes of constantly turning the meat, his dinner was ready. Half of it was burnt, almost to crisp, while the other half was undercooked, but it was the best he could come up with, and he was too tired and hungry to care anyway, so he ate it without care.
Surprisingly, the unburnt part of the meat tasted very nice, even with the lack of any spice or seasoning, and he suspected it was due to the magical nature of the meat.
After dinner, Aodhán dug out a hole to create a mound of sand close to the fire that he could use as a makeshift pillow, and with a sigh of contentment, he laid down to sleep.
Sleep eluded him, though, and after a few minutes, he decided to practice instead, so he summoned a bolt of lightning between his palms, and perhaps he was imagining it, but the energy seemed just a tad more responsive to his urgings than before.
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Fortunately, the storm cloud was unaffected by his use of lightning, which was great news, as he'd feared that he couldn't wield both skills without causing some sort of explosion.
He made very little progress before the stress of the day began to catch up with him, but at least he'd managed to keep a bolt of lightning stable for almost half an hour.
With another sigh of contentment, Aodhán shot the bolt into the sky, where it exploded in a shower of sparks, and finally let sleep claim him.
***
Aodhán awoke the next morning to the melodious chirping of birds as well as the distant calls of other forest creatures. The air was fresh and clean, and as he took in a deep breath, a smile blossomed on his face.
The fire had gone out, but surprisingly, the stormcloud had remained, floating above him and protecting him from the rays of sunlight streaming through the dense canopy of leaves above him.
The morning was peaceful, but more importantly, he felt refreshed, energized, and at peace. This was his first morning on ÆFLYM, and it couldn't have been more beautiful.
His mind drifted to thoughts of the orphanage and how, on a morning as clear and beautiful as this, the monks would have granted them permission to take their breakfast in the central garden.
Since it was a boy-only orphanage, every collective affair almost always ended in an argument, fight, or even an all-out brawl, but that had only happened once; he'd even participated in it, although he doubted the monks knew about that, as if they did, they wouldn't have elected him as the North Wing coordinator the month after.
His emotions were bittersweet at the memory, and although he was happy with his current situation, he couldn't help but miss the place he had lived in for almost 10 years.
With a small smile, Aodhán stood to his feet, scattered the ashes of the fire, but kept the wooden construct he'd used to prepare dinner, dismantling it and tying it to his back with a twine of vines.
He dispersed the initial storm cloud and created another, which produced enough water to quench his thirst and wash his face; however, his poor control left him soaking wet and shivering in the chilly morning air.
Wringing out his tattered clothes, Aodhán scanned the clearing for a possible route. He had two objectives today. The first and most important was to find signs of civilization, be it a village, a town, or even a hut—anything to signify that he wasn't alone on this damned planet. His second objective, however, was the most interesting. He needed to begin his hunt for energy cores, and he needed to begin immediately.
With that in mind, he steeled himself and moved forward, deeper into the forest.
......
A few miles away.
A small village was situated just outside the Warren Woods, as the locals liked to call it, and a group of men, dressed in cheap green and black gear, stood near the village's entrance.
They were hunters, or at least they named themselves so, despite their lack of experience. There were only four of them, but they seemed confident in their numbers.
Out of the four, three of them were sleepers, a demeaning term given to unawakened individuals. They were moderately built and armed with both a spear and a machete, yet one of them still carried a bow on his left shoulder, the other had several daggers strapped to his person, and the third carried a large shield on his back.
The only one among them who wasn't excessively armed, as he only carried with him a small pocket knife, was the fourth hunter. He was a Tier 7 fire awakened as well as the leader of this small group.
None of the others batted at eye at his unarmed state. It didn't matter anyway, because the power of an awakened depended not on mundane weaponry but on the might of their skills and spirit.
"This shouldn't take us long." The awakened said to the group: His name was Unrid Brystion, and he was one of the strongest awakened in the village, save for the guards, of course. "We just need to cull the number of monsters and make sure nothing above Tier 2 is lurking in these woods by the time the harvest festival comes around."
One of the sleepers, a young man in his early twenties, groaned. "This is a waste of time, Unrid; we do this dive every month, and we've never found anything more interesting than a silver mamacore."
He was the tallest hunter in the group, so Unrid had to look up to glare at him. Still, the effect of his disapproval was obvious, as the hunter shied backwards a moment later.
Not all awakeneds bullied sleepers with their abilities, but enough of them did so that everyone knew it was a bad idea for sleepers to antagonize or defy an awakened, no matter their physical strength.
"For the unnecessary commentary, Lutor, you will be taking point." Unrid replied, and the others chuckled in amusement. Still, Lutor was right; these monthly expeditions had become a nice camping experience for them. Even Lutor smiled; whether he took point or not, he had nothing to fear.
Unrid carried a large bag filled with their camping gear and medical kit, so after making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, they waved goodbye to the soldier stationed at the entrance and made their way out of the village.
"You should wish us luck." The hunter carrying the bow, Berion, called to the soldier with a smile, but the soldier just shook his head and said, "I doubt you'll be needing it."
They laughed and made their way towards the forest. It didn't take them long to reach it, and almost as one, the three Sleepers brandished their weapons.
They trudged past the tree line and deeper into the forest. Almost immediately, they came into contact with a Gulu, a small octopus-looking creature with dark green and blue skin, but it was only Tier 0, so Lutor simply cut it down with a swing of his sword.
Darnathil, the hunter with the shield, groaned. "If things continue this way, then we are in for a long, boring hunt."
Unrid chuckled and responded with a shake of his head. "If things continue this way, then I shall light a candle to Raol when we return and thank him for small mercies.”