I still had no idea who my mother was. Lethaniel was a pretty name, but it didn’t tell me much about the person who bore it.

The only thing I knew for certain was that she loved me. No one would go out of their way to secure a legacy for their kid without some deep level of affection. But I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. She was dead and gone, and I would never get to meet her.

That just made the desire to claim her legacy rage even more fiercely in my chest.

It didn’t matter if the legacy was as useful as the sword itself, like a new level of unlocking the sword’s abilities, or something entirely useless. I wanted it with a burning passion that made me clench my fingers around the sword’s handle until my muscles threatened to tear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I forced myself to let go. Crippling one of my hands and having to go track down a healer or a healing potion would not help me in any way.

Instead, with newfound determination, I stalked over to the station’s chair and sank down into it.

I hadn’t done it on purpose, but I had been neglecting my base magical training recently. It was time to remedy that.

To be fair, I had still done enough over the past several days to get to my twelfth core layer. But our travels limited my time and progress. I couldn’t exactly absorb a mana crystal in the middle of the sandstorm.

I had no excuses for our return trip inside the snake, though. That one was on me, even if I had spent most of that journey trying to comfort Mia.

Now, with my safety absolutely guaranteed by the power of the Abyss itself, I could make up for lost time.

Dipping into my dimensional pouch, I pulled out one of the mana crystals Glaustro had given me when I surrendered that Archmage’s soul back on Berlis. I really couldn’t overstate the value of that gift. I hadn’t yet burned through half my supply, though the rate at which I could gulp them down had definitely increased.

I relaxed back into the chair and sank deep into my core, just cycling my mana for a while. Then I pushed into the mana crystal and extracted its bounty.

I did so forcefully, like when I had first used a crystal. This time, though, the ‘flood’ of mana that erupted was easily manageable. Really, it was more of a steady stream than something I struggled to corral.

I luxuriated in the feeling, taking it as a sign of how far I had grown. However, as I drained one crystal after another, I noticed something odd.

Even recently, I had only been able able to get seventy crystals in, if I really pushed. Now? After just a couple of hours, I managed to drain several hundred crystals, enough to get myself all the way up to the fourteenth layer, and I was barely slowing down.

There was a pull on my soul, for sure. But rather than a deep-seated ache, it felt like a slight prickling. I could ignore it if I chose.

I frowned, considering my situation. When I got the crystals, I was handed five thousand superior variants and fifty thousand greater variants. Though I had been doggedly burning through the greater crystals, there were still just under twenty thousand left.

Sure, I could keep going with those greater variants. But it took time to drain a crystal of its mana. Was time something I could afford at this point?

Maybe I should switch things up a little.

Pulling out a superior mana crystal this time, I got back to work.

The improvement was… significant.

The ranks of of mana crystals did not differ in terms of the mana’s purity. What separated ‘greater’ from ‘superior’ was the degree of the mana’s crystallization and compression. The same volume of mana within a superior mana crystal was several times denser and more potent than within a greater one. Ten times so, in fact.

In other words, when the mana streamed through my channels and slammed into my core, I almost felt it quake.

I loved it.

Even better, interacting with these hyper-compressed mana crystals gave me a clue about my own advancement.

With each layer, my core got ‘bigger’ in that odd, metaphysical way. It now took up half my heart’s total volume. The size made it harder and harder to add more layers, which was a problem if I wanted to keep advancing to Greater Mage.

I had been puzzling over how to manage the additional layers required, but now I had an idea. I needed to copy mana crystals, and compress my entire core into a smaller size.

I was only guessing, of course. The literature Clarinette had copied into her grimoire was vague on the subject. She had never gotten close to reaching Greater Mage, which was the height of her world’s power.

And it wasn’t like I had a human mage handy to interrogate about their advancement. Bronwynn was an ascendant demon, but he had admitted to me long ago that he had not taken the optimal path to demonhood. That meant his experience with mana growth post-ascension wasn’t applicable to me.

So, with no better ideas, I leveraged the full might of the mana crystal’s reserves, wove them around my core, and squeezed.

My first attempt was disastrous. Cold sweat broke out on my brow as I whimpered in pain, my whole body shaking. It felt like I was trying to push my heart through a strainer.

I didn’t give up, though. I varied my approach. Rather than outright squeezing, I tried to massage the mana deeper and deeper into my core. Then I gave my mana circulation a twist before running through different weaving exercises.

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Dignified mages do not take breaks between mana stones to curse like sailors. But there was no one in the station with me, so… no one can prove a thing.

Unless the Abyss itself snitched. Though, if it had a tendency towards such behavior, I had far worse problems to worry about.

It was a slow, frustrating process, but I gradually began to see the effects. Bit by bit, infinitely small amount by infinitely small amount, my core was shrinking. I simply didn’t give it a choice to do anything but.

The only issue was the pace. Every time I really pressed, my core produced some truly distressing sounds, and I almost passed out from the pain.

It took me a frustratingly long time to remember that I shouldn’t just concern myself with the outer layers of my core.

This just proves that you can, in fact, be both powerful and an idiot.

When I finally thought to peek into my core’s interior, I almost panicked. The carefully arranged pathways and flow were starting to warp from all the pressure I was putting on them. I scrambled to fix things, and only let out a relieved sigh when I was sure I hadn’t done irreparable damage to my future as a mortal mage.

It would absolutely suck to miss out on advancing to Archmage before my ascension just because my dumb ass rushed things.

After that, whenever I started pressing, I made sure I was also applying the right sort of force inside my core. It provided both an additional impetus for compression and a mana structure able to support my core’s interior arrangement.

And… it made things so much easier. The pain that heralded the risk of cracking my core didn’t vanish entirely, but it faded to a mere whisper. The process was far more efficient, too. I could visibly track my progress.

Still, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when my core finally crunched down for the last time, and something clicked into place within my soul. The mana flowing throughout the station went suddenly still, then collapsed into me like I was a black hole. Streams of it became visible to the naked eye as they forced themselves into my body, elevating the quality of my core and my soul both.

A smile played across my lips as I observed the results of all my hard work.

My mana core was never ugly. Quite the contrary, in fact. But now, it had a sheen typically associated only with the most precious of gems. It was like my heart contained a galaxy, fueling my body with endless streams of power.

Oh, I had no illusions that my mana capacity was suddenly on par with demons, but I didn’t care. I was a Greater Mage! The only thing stopping me from reaching the Archmage level was the accumulation of more mana, and I had more than enough crystals to accomplish that.

I was starting to feel that familiar strain, though. My soul was on the verge of weariness, so instead of pushing, I decided to be smart and get some rest before going for more.

Didn’t mean I was quite done with the station, though.

The sword’s message had lit a fire in me, just hot enough to tip my mental scales in favor of not dragging my feet about ascension. Besides, an idea had flitted idly through my mind earlier, and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I confirmed whether or not it was a viable option.

One of the biggest advantages of Abyss-born demons was their unique physiology. I had already proved that I could aim for certain demonic abilities when the Abyss answered my plea for help handling my mana senses. Theoretically, physical mutations were also on the table, but I had no clue whether I could actually guide them.

I gathered up three hundred of my leftover souls and decided to take a risk.

Hmmm. I should probably take off my top for this, just in case.

Removing my chest armor and shirt, I settled back into the chair and started offering up souls.

I focused on a childhood dream. Images of the sky filled my mind. I could easily imagine what it would be like to race through them, wind whipping around me in an attempt to curb my speed. I imagined wings spreading behind my back, cutting through the sky, bearing me aloft in direct defiance of gravity and a human’s place in the world.

The Abyss devoured my offering of souls, and pain screamed through my body.

The last time I had made this kind of exchange, I was able to detect the Abyss’s power as it surged across our link. I could trace where it went and what it was doing to me.

This time, the power exploded throughout my entire form at once. It rippled over every muscle and sank into every bone, too fast and too powerfully for my mind to follow.

And it wasn’t just my body that was changing. The Abyssal power surged through my soul as well, making it bulge and squirm. Everything in me writhed in agony as the Abyss threatened to tear it apart.

Just when I thought I had done something irreversibly stupid, tendrils exploded out of my soul’s back, forming the vague outline of wings.

My body responded instantly.

There was a wet tearing sound and a lot of crunching in my back as things shifted, but it all ground to a halt before long.

Just like last time, I was an exhausted mess when the Abyssal power finished its work. Unlike last time, I did not give myself a moment to rest. I immediately began twisting into all sorts of awkward positions, trying to gauge exactly what had happened to me.

It took a lot of wiggling, but I eventually managed to get my head at an angle that let me take a peek.

My feelings were… complicated.

It had worked. My attempt at specifying how I wanted the Abyss to alter me was a success.

But I had definitely not offered up enough souls.

My ‘wings’ were just the barest hints of their intended formation. Bits of bone protruded from my back. Skin stretched over them so tightly, it looked like I should be experiencing discomfort.

I was, but mostly on the psychological side of things. It almost looked like I had two baby chick wings attached to my back. There was no way I could let anyone see me like this.

Thankfully, I had armor I could put on.

Dressing was an experience. My new body parts, which would hopefully evolve into real, majestic wings once I could offer more souls, didn’t seem too fragile. My armor wasn’t going to damage them.

Still, my equipment and clothes no longer sat on my back quite right. The discomfort was minor, but it was constant. I would just have to keep forcing myself to ignore it.

It was in this exhausted, mildly dazed state that I found myself stumbling out of the station. My brand hadn’t alerted me that Glaustro wanted to see us or that he had organized lodgings, so I started to wander.

As I walked, my mind drifted. I thought back to everything that had happened to me. My awakening in Hayden’s body. My struggle to survive. My death on Berlis. My resurrection and arrival on Lagyel.

Before I knew it, I was at the very edge of the city, almost to the moat. I would have to swim if I wanted to leave, but I felt no urge. There was nothing out there but the dangerous sand.

Even this outer area of the city was infested by the stupid crunchy nonsense. Idly, I bent down to scoop up a handful of grains.

They glittered in the sunlight, mocking me with their innocuous appearance. Yet it was this ‘mundane’ material that had held back the demonic invasion for so long.

As I stood there, wavering between the present moment and my memories, a thought occurred to me. I remembered my first day on Lagyel, when I had sliced through one of the bigger grains of sand easily with my sword.

My brow furrowed.

The sand… my sword…

Dropping the sand, I dipped into my dimensional pouch. It was always a bit of a struggle, putting in or extracting bigger items, but I eventually had a piece of scorpion carcass in my hand.

I pulled out my sword and gently ran it across the scorpion piece. Sparks flew, but nothing else happened.

I shoved the carcass back into my dimensional pouch. Then, looking around in a hurry, I located the biggest grain of sand I could find. It wasn’t large, of course, but I managed to hold it steady between my pointer finger and thumb. Carefully, I touched my blade against it.

As small as the grain of sand was, my sword easily sliced a piece of it away.

I stared blankly at the grains of sand, my mind whirling with the implications. There was, after all, only one thing my sword was so effective against.

Souls.