Chapter 7
Aster and Lena stepped into a vast greenhouse-like structure, its size rivalling that of a small palace. Towering cliffs framed cascading waterfalls that poured into crystal-clear pools below, their mist shimmering in the ambient glow of the enchanted lights scattered throughout the space. Lush forests filled most of the open areas, while isolated tables occupied the remaining spaces, each one hosting clusters of students engaged in lively discussions. The air was thick with the scent of blooming astral flora, mingling with the soft hum of conversation.
As Aster and Lena entered, a petite Indian girl spotted them and waved them over enthusiastically. “Aster, this is Yani,” Lena introduced them, gesturing for him to step forward.
“Hi, Yani, it’s very nice to meet you,” Aster said, extending his hand.
Yani grasped it with a firm shake, her expression smug as Lena added, “She’ll be helping you with your Artificing classes. She’s one of the best Spirit-Type Artificers I know.”
Yani’s eyes gleamed with pride. “Spirit Typing isn’t always suited for combat like the other Typings,” she admitted, “but what makes up for that is the sheer variety of Artefacts we can craft. We also have the unique ability to blend different Typings into our creations.”
Aster’s interest piqued. He had understood that Artificing involved crafting, but the idea of Artefacts being so integral to cultivation intrigued him. “What exactly is an Artefact?” he asked.
Lena and Yani exchanged a knowing glance, a silent joke passing between them before Yani answered. “An Artefact is essentially a medium that allows cultivators to access abilities and powers without having to generate them themselves. They’re typically made from advanced Astral Materials, harvested from high-tier creatures or painstakingly refined from various components tailored to a cultivator’s needs.”
Seeing Aster’s thoughtful expression, Yani elaborated, “Let’s say you hunted an E-tier mantis with a Water Typing and Mist hue. If you harvested its core and took its materials to an Artificer, they could craft an Artefact that allows the wielder to unleash the mantis’s abilities by channelling a small amount of energy through it. Of course, the user would need to be Water-Typed or a Spirit-Typer, but with the core and engravings infused into the material, they could unleash an E minus rank ability instantly, bypassing the complexities of casting a spell from scratch.”
Aster was impressed. “So, depending on the Artefact, you could wield abilities at a much higher level than what your cultivation alone would allow?”
“Precisely!” Yani grinned. “Of course, higher-level Artefacts require certain prerequisites, and mastering their use through cultivation can further enhance their power and efficiency. But having the right Artefact can be the difference between life and death in battle.”
Aster took a moment to process everything before voicing a thought that had been nagging at him. “It seems like everything about cultivation—every class, function, and purpose—is centred around gaining power. Given history, it’s not surprising, but why is an entire society structured around the pursuit of strength?”
Lena and Yani exchanged startled looks, as if he had asked why a businessman in the Material Plane would seek wealth.
Lena spoke first. “The pursuit of power grants individuals agency and control over their environment. When the first people discovered the Astral Plane, they quickly realized how inhospitable and dangerous it was. A single C rank monster could decimate a thousand E rank cultivators. The only thing that could stop it was another C rank cultivator of equal strength. Without power, we’d have to resign ourselves to be nothing more than prey.”
Yani nodded, adding, “The only reason we were able to establish the Archipelago—to build our homes, cities, and schools—was because we eradicated all C rank and higher creatures from this Plane. The few remaining B rank creatures are constantly hunted in the Astral Caverns, and A rank and above are kept in check by our Celestials, who ensure they don’t descend upon the lower levels.”
“There is another reason though” Yani chips in “The Astral Vessel seemed to be designed in order to grow and become more powerful. Even those of the unaware are subconsciously steered into different paths in order to slowly strengthen their Vessels over time, the fact that the Spirit retains its power through each reincarnation, suggests an inherent need to evolve. The most widely accepted theory is that this growth is meant to help us escape the cycle of reincarnation and ascend to an even higher plane” Yani casually mentions causing Aster to suddenly choke on his drink. He looks at Lena and is unsure how-to fraise the question without seeming Racist or ignorant “Is this the general theory in the Astral Plane or is this something that Yani’s ‘people’ believed in?” he asked, blushing at the thought of sounding ignorant.
Lena and Yani looks at each other before suddenly bursting into laughter causing Aster to redden even further. After they had enough time to get their breath back, Lena is finally able to explain. “There is no such thing as religion within the Society of the Aware. This is less to do with us being more enlightened or anything like that and more to do with us being aware of the God Constructs that are used by the different Religions to generate the Potent Faith needed to run our Society. We also have a lot more knowledge about what happens to you when you die alongside actual proof and use of the Spirit when it comes to the Astral Vessel, meaning we don’t have the same uncertainties used by the religions to help farm the Faith from their followers. Would you worship a machine that is essentially nothing more than a giant printing press churning out currency; while knowing it has no agency outside what its leaders want?”
Aster couldn’t help but see her point, he still didn’t completely understand Faith and how it worked as a form of currency that was somehow able to be exchanged for real world currency and value, but he could understand that what he considered gods in his world were essentially machines used to extract value out of its unaware flock in the eyes of people from this one. Most church leaders in the real world were themselves unbelievers after realizing how their words were able to shape their followers’ opinions, in their mind there was no god except that what they wanted to portray and if there was, their views were either inspirate form the view of the church, or it held no real power and was unconcerned with the need to stop them from exploiting and conning their so-called true believers from these fakes. If these gods were for real machines in the Astral Plane, he could understand why believing they were something more would have caused some laughter from the majority of people
His thoughts shifted as he glanced at the menu. Instead of prices in traditional currency, there were Faith amounts listed. Curious, he turned to Lena. “Could you explain how Faith works?”
Lena flicked her finger, summoning a light-blue interface in front of her. “Faith is as complex as FIAT currency, but its practical use is straightforward.” She showed Aster how to access his own interface, and he quickly navigated it, noting his name, Typing, Rank, and three different numerical values, each in a different color: blue, yellow, and red.
“The blue value represents your instantly liquid assets—stocks, for example. The Cosmic Scale converts these into Faith with minimal fluctuation. The yellow represents fixed assets, like homes, cars, or businesses. Converting these is trickier; the Scale may balance the transaction by causing accidents or financial losses in the Material Plane. The red is your Karmic value—your potential for good luck or misfortune. Using it is risky, as the Scale may balance it through unforeseen disasters, like illnesses or deaths in the family. It’s best to only spend blue, access yellow in emergencies, and avoid red unless absolutely necessary.”
Aster frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “I had about R150,000 in stocks from Matter before I left. My blue amount says 750 Faith. Is that the exchange rate?”
“Exactly!” Lena and Yani said in unison.
Aster glanced back at the menu, eyeing a sandwich which caused his stomach to growl loudly. It cost 10 Faith—around R2,000. His excitement dimmed as he realized how quickly the money Matter left him could disappear if he wasn’t careful. If he wanted to thrive here, he needed to figure out how to earn Faith.
“You just place your thumb at the bottom of the menu, and the transaction will process when you receive your food,” Lena explained. “The Cosmic Scale will balance the exchange by the time you wake up in the Material Plane.”
With a nod, Aster pressed his thumb to the menu, watching his blue total drop by 10. As the food arrived, he settled in, getting to know Yani and Lena over the course of their meal, eager to learn more about this strange, intricate world.
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Lena guides Aster to the Weapon Depository, her eyes flicking over to the gate where Musa stood waiting by the entrance, his silhouette stark against the dimly lit stone walls of the compound.
"I’ll see you at the Market District after you finish here," Lena said, her voice steady. "This shouldn’t take more than two hours, so let’s say I’ll meet you around 4 a.m.?"
Aster blinked, surprised. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was already 2 a.m. He and Matter had started their ritual early yesterday, around 5 a.m., meaning his Material Vessel had been asleep for over 24 hours now.
He turned to Lena, brow furrowing. “Wait, how long has it been? Do I have time to—?”
Lena smiled, giving him a reassuring glance. "Don’t worry. You’ll need to be back by 8 a.m. at the latest. All is well."
Aster nodded in thanks and turned to make his way over to Musa, who was making light conversation with a guard stationed by the entrance.
“Enjoy the lunch?” Musa asked, his voice teasing.
Aster wrinkled his nose at the memory. “Right... It wasn’t even a good sandwich, just a half-baked excuse for a meal—polony of all things! Why even have polony on the Astral Plane?”
Musa laughed, slapping his thigh. "Polony? They’ve really started scrapping the barrel! Polony is just another low point, in the latest of a long line of low points sold under the guise of convenience. Astral-born food companies are masters at turning ‘essence’ into something edible. What they served you wasn’t even food—it was just a distilled memory of a sandwich harvested by brave souls who ventured into the Astral Cradle to extract it from its physical counterpart on the Material Plane. The company contracts all over, just stealing the essence from material school lunches and selling it to us as fine cuisine."
Aster’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding... So you can just harvest the essence of anything then... why not just harvest our own food spirit then?”
With a gleam of mischief, Musa produced a King Steer burger from seemingly nowhere, taking a bite with a smug grin as he waved the guard to open the gate. The guard hesitated, then went through a series of hand signals, and the massive iron gates began to creak open, revealing the Weapon Depository’s sprawling interior.
Aster’s jaw dropped. Towering shelves filled with ancient weapons, scrolls, and tomes stretched beyond the horizon of the building. Racks of spears and swords gleamed under dim lantern light, while haphazard piles of dusty manuscripts threatened to topple over. The air smelled of aged parchment, oiled steel, and something faintly electric—like the lingering presence of old battles sealed within these tomes.
The sheer scope of the place made him wonder how he was supposed to sift through all of it in just two hours. The weight of history pressed against him from all sides.
As if reading his thoughts, Musa spoke without missing a beat. “Don’t worry, Aster. I’ve already got some options lined up for you. My family’s been Scripture-focused for generations. We have the largest variety of weapon-type users of any legacy family in South Africa.”
Aster took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but he still had to ask, “What exactly is ‘Scripture,’ though? It’s not, like, religious stuff, right?”
Musa chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not at all. ‘Scripture’ is a collection of techniques that form a specific fighting style. Every weapon has its own body of scriptures, each developed by countless masters over the centuries. Some are good, some are... well, let’s just say people like to dress their techniques up in flowery language to make them sound profound.” His smirk was knowing. “Fortunately, you’ve got me to cut through the nonsense.”
Aster nodded, reassured, though a new question pressed on his mind. Musa, noticing the flicker of thought in his expression, continued.
“I heard from Lena that you have a Spirit Typing?” Musa’s tone turned more businesslike, his eyes holding a hint of curiosity. “If that’s the case, the right weapon and scripture are even more crucial for you. There are even some scriptures that could help you cultivate the path of a weapon user, if that’s what you decide.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “But no need to rush. First, we’ll pick a weapon, then we’ll go through the scriptures I’ve selected for you.”
Musa gestured for Aster to follow, weaving through the towering shelves with the ease of someone who had spent years navigating this labyrinth. The further they went, the quieter the atmosphere became. The air grew still, heavy with the weight of preserved knowledge. Flickering lanterns cast elongated shadows across the wooden floor, and in the distance, a faint hum resonated—a sound Aster couldn’t place. Maybe it was just the way energy clung to this place, the echoes of past wielders lingering in the steel and ink.
Eventually, they emerged into a small clearing between the shelves. Here, beneath the watchful presence of ancient tomes, a large wooden table stood, illuminated by a single hanging lantern. On its surface lay four distinct weapons, each set carefully apart. Stacks of scrolls and tomes flanked them, their spines bearing faded, intricate calligraphy.
Aster hesitated, his gaze sweeping across the table. The contrast between the vast chaos of the vault and the precise arrangement here made this space feel almost sacred. He finally stepped forward, anticipation and trepidation warring within him.
Musa pointed to each weapon as he spoke. The first weapon was a halberd. Its shaft was weathered, worn from years of use, but strong and solid. The gleaming axe blade caught the dim light, and the sharp spearpoint glinted menacingly.
"The halberd is versatile. It combines the reach of a spear with the power of an axe. You can use it to disarm or hook opponents, but it’s not ideal for tight spaces, and it tires the user if they’re not accustomed to its weight."
Next was a greatsword. Massive and imposing, the blade shimmered faintly with an aura of raw power. Its broad edge looked capable of cutting through almost anything, and the hilt was worn smooth from countless battles.
"The greatsword is about overwhelming power. It can cleave through armour and send enemies flying. But it’s slow and requires immense strength and precision. If you miss, you leave yourself open."
A staff lay next. It was long, crafted from dark wood, the wood patterning seeming to shift when Aster looked at them too long, as if alive in some way.
"The staff is deceptive. It’s lightweight and can be used for both offense and defence. It’s agile and fast, but it lacks raw power. If your opponent closes the gap, you might struggle to land a decisive blow."
The last weapon on the table was a chain. The links were thick and coiled loosely, but Aster could feel the potential energy in its weight, ready to be unleashed at a moment’s notice.
"The chain is all about versatility. You can swing, whip, or throw it. It allows you to bind, disarm, or disorient your opponent. But it requires a high level of skill to wield. If you’re not precise, it can backfire and become a hindrance."
Aster’s gaze flicked over each weapon, but something in him gravitated toward the chain and the staff. His fingers twitched in anticipation as he considered each option.
Aster wasn’t sure how to choose, he hadn’t used any of them before, or had he? His mind raced back to a moment from his past. He was fourteen, desperate, scared, and cornered in an alley behind the orphanage after running away. Four older boys surrounded him, each of them bigger and stronger. They demanded the small stash of food and money he’d hidden away from his petty thefts.
The fight started with him wielding crude stick he had found on the ground. It started off well enough when they went after him one by one, but when they all decided to rush him at once, he barely held his own, using the stick to fend off one or two of them while the others kicked and shoved him. His heart had pounded in his chest, and he had felt completely helpless. That is, until he spotted a rusted chain, half-hidden in the tall grass.
In a flash, he had grabbed it, his fingers wrapping around the cold, coarse links. The chain had felt alive in his hands. As he swung it in a wide arc, as it clashed with the attackers, knocking one to the ground, while the other three hesitated for a moment, giving Aster just enough time to strike again, breaking their morale as they ran bloodied and bruised from the younger and weaker Aster. At that moment he had felt a surge of adrenaline and power, the staff allowing him to rush into them, chain scattering them and allowing him to deal with them in groups, the force of them both having given him the newfound strength he needed at that point.
Aster’s gaze lingered on the staff and the chain, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could still feel the weight of that stick—how it had given him reach, control, a way to parry and strike with precision. But he also remembered the old, rusted chain in his grip, the way it had coiled and lashed out like a living thing, everywhere at once, not giving his opponents an opening. Together, they had been his salvation.
Aster hesitated before he asks "So... what do you use?"
Musa smiled, his pride evident. He reached into thin air and pulled out an oval shield, thinly wrapped in monster hide. Embedded within the shield were two weapons—one a short spear, the other a wooden club of the same length.
"I’m reviving my tribe's ancient combat style," Musa said, his voice steady with conviction. "The shield, called an isihlangu acts as both a defense and a battering ram, while the club, or iwisa is used for close-combat, for delivering powerful blows and the spear, or asigai is for ranged work and more piercing damage. The variety makes me unpredictable and versatile in almost any battle."
“So I can choose two then” Aster finally ventures thinking of how Musa wielded three weapons together.
Musa studied him in silence before speaking. "You’re torn between two?"
Aster exhaled sharply. "When I was younger, I fought with two of them together. The staff kept them at bay, the chain turned the tide. I don’t know if I can just... choose one or the other, but I’m also not sure if they can be used together…."
Musa’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "That’s because you’re thinking about this like an ordinary fighter. The way people fight on the material plane is limited by the body, by physics, by what hands can hold and muscles can bear. That’s not the case for cultivators."
He stepped closer, resting a hand on the table beside the weapons. "Most people begin with one path because mastery demands focus. A single weapon, a single scripture—it’s a foundation. But as you grow, as your spirit strengthens, you won’t be bound by the same limitations. The great warriors of history, the ones who left their mark, all fused weapons and techniques together in ways no ordinary fighter ever could. Not just through skill, but through the nature of scripture itself."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Aster’s leaned closer holding onto the edge of the table. "So you’re saying I could chose both?"
"You can but using them both won't be immediate." Musa said. "You’ll first have to lay the groundwork with one, I’d suggest the staff, which will refine your precision and movement. When the time is right, when your cultivation allows it, you’ll be able to start incorporating the chain—merging what you’ve learned into something far greater than just a staff or a chain by themselves. "
Aster picked up the staff, feeling its smooth, strong wood in his hands. He swung it experimentally, getting a feel for its balance. Then putting down the staff, he moved to the chain, wrapping his fingers around the thick links. He swung it slowly at first, feeling its weight shift with each motion. Gradually, he picked up speed, the chain hissing through the air before snapping with a sharp clang against the ground.
Musa’s smile widened. “You’ve got the instincts. Now, let’s get you started on your scriptures. Choosing the right foundation—something that can fuse the two styles later—will make the transition smoother when the time comes.”
He flipped through a stack of tomes, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he scanned their covers. After sorting through nearly two dozen, his hand stopped on two specific scrolls. He hesitated for a moment, then turned to Aster.
“I’ve narrowed it down to two. These scriptures complement your chosen weapons and overlap enough to support future fusion.” He placed the first tome on the table. “Point Burst Staff.” Then, he placed the second scroll beside it. “And this—Infinite Chain Link Squall.”
He turned the first tome around, its cover slightly frayed. "Point Burst Staff," he said, his voice quiet but heavy with meaning. "This scripture was created by a genius named Herphon, who ranked first in his year close to forty years ago, a master of the staff. He developed the technique from scratch during his time in the Astral Archipelago, where he made quite a name for himself. There, he refined his skill with the staff, forging the technique from the challenges he overcame and the experiences he received eventually ranking first in that year’s Finals Tournament, this scripture key to that success”
"Before he left for the Astra Caverns, he imprinted the scripture as it stands now—an incomplete but powerful technique originating from the experiences of his journey. He never returned from the caverns, and with his disappearance, the final pieces of his Scripture was never completed.”
Musa paused, letting the weight of the story sink in. "What we have left is a rare and mysterious scripture, missing crucial elements in its later levels, but its potential in the Staff’s foundation is immense." He let the words hang in the air as Aster’s curiosity deepened. "This scripture’s all about speed and precision. With the staff, you don’t swing to hit— it’s about targeted, devastating bursts of force. Every strike is meant to disorient, to control space, to dictate movement. The Point Burst Staff will train you to use the staff’s length and agility to manipulate openings, setting up your strikes as your opponent tries to figure out where you’re attacking from.
Musa paused to look at Aster. "The staff’s attacks are direct and precise, designed to destabilize your opponent, which works really well with….”
He points at the second tome. Infinite Chain Link Squall, "This one’s all about precision, control, and flow. The chain requires constant movement—nothing too heavy, nothing too stiff. It’s designed for agility, for unpredictable, sweeping strikes that keep the opponent off-balance or fast piercing strikes towards a single point. The key is flexibility. This scripture uses the chain’s length and unpredictability to disable, ensnare, and disarm opponents from a distance."
Musa paused, tapping the first book again. "The Point Burst Staff gives you control, but it also demands your full focus. The staff’s precision and striking power will allow you to dictate the pace of battle, creating openings through targeted bursts of force. When you fuse this with the Infinite Chain Link Squall, you’ll need to find a way to maintain that precision while keeping the chain’s fluid motion intact—balancing offense and defence without losing momentum. Think of it as the opposite of the chain—where the chain thrives on unpredictability and sweeping movements, the staff anchors you with control and focused strikes."
Aster let the idea sink in. "So... the chain’s unpredictable. It’s wild—how can I use that with the staff’s precision and more predictable fighting style?" he asked, eyeing the books before him, unsure.
Musa smiled knowingly, nodding in approval of Aster’s analytical mind. "That’s where the challenge lies. These two weapons aren’t naturally compatible. The chain’s unpredictability and the staff’s precise bursts require a new way of thinking. But that’s the point of this process. Once you master both weapons and their individual scriptures, you’ll be able to fuse them, overcoming their differences and creating an entire new paradigm between the two."
Aster’s brow furrowed slightly. "So what do you mean by fusing them?"
Musa leaned forward, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Each of these weapons, on their own, represent a specific style of fighting. But if you master them, you’ll unlock a brand-new path—a hybrid style. A style that’s uniquely yours, but it doesn’t just stop there. The real power comes when you completely fuse the two, creating something far greater than either on its own, not just the scriptures, but the weapons themselves."
Aster seemed surprised at that ‘Fusing the weapons themselves?’
Musa continued, “Fusion isn’t just about combining techniques from both scriptures—it’s about mastering the essence of each weapon so that you can forge something entirely new through Artefact crafting. The staff and chain each have their own strengths and weaknesses. The chain’s fluidity and unpredictability can overwhelm an opponent, keeping them off-balance, while the staff’s precision and striking power allow you to exploit the openings the chain creates. On the Material Plane, these two styles might seem too different to reconcile, but on the Astral Plane, through Artificing, you can craft a weapon that embodies both. By mastering each weapon separately, you lay the groundwork to merge them—not just in technique, but in form—creating a scripture and an Artefact that are entirely your own, something greater than the sum of its parts.”
He picked up both books, placing them side by side on the table. "Here’s the deal—right now, Point Burst Staff will be your foundation. It’ll teach you the precision and timing to master the staff as your primary weapon. The way you strike with the staff will be direct and overwhelming—raw power that forces your opponent to react. Each strike will break their stance, disrupt their rhythm, and set them up for the chain. Once you’ve mastered the staff, you’ll train in the Infinite Chain Link Squall, using the chain’s unpredictability to manipulate your opponent’s movements, keep them off-balance, and create even more openings for devastating follow-ups with the staff. From there you’ll learn how to shift from one weapon to the other more fluidly, using one to empower the other in a Hybrid-Style, using both practically simultaneously, where the chain creates openings, and the staff fills those openings with precision and power. The fusion process will take time from there, but with both weapons and both scriptures under your belt, you’ll eventually be able to craft something entirely new—your own scripture and artefact that blends both the best parts of these styles."
Aster felt the weight of the task, but also a growing sense of excitement. The prospect of creating his own hybrid fighting style, of blending techniques and weapons that had never been fused before, was an intoxicating idea.
Aster nodded, his hands already itching to take hold of the chain and the staff, to feel their weight and movements. The first step was in front of him, and he was ready to take it.
Aster picked up both the staff and chain, feeling their weight in his hands. He awkwardly tried to balance them on his shoulder, shifting his stance as the chain dangled loosely while the staff pressed against his neck. It wasn’t a graceful sight.
Musa shot him an amused glance. "No one tell you about your Dantains yet?"
Aster looked up, confused. "Dantains?"
Musa gave him a casual shrug. "It’s nothing you need to worry about right now. You’ll learn more as you go. But, since you don’t understand how to store your items yet, let me give you the basics."
Aster nodded, still uncertain, as Musa continued, his tone matter-of-fact.
"You have three Dantains—three spaces we refer to as Palaces.
These palaces are located within your body and play a key role in storing and controlling your energy. The first is your Stomach Palace. It's essentially an internal storage space. You can use it to store things like weapons, tomes, or any objects you’ll need on your journey. The staff and chain, for instance. You don’t need to carry them. You can store them in your Stomach Palace, and they’ll be accessible whenever you need them."
Aster blinked, eyes widening slightly. "Wait... so I can just... store them?"
"Yes," Musa said with a smile. "The Stomach Palace is designed to hold items without any issue. It’s like an empty pocket within your body—don’t overthink it. The Chest Palace, on the other hand, is where your Elemental Aether is stored. It’s the space that powers your techniques and spells. The third one, the Mind Palace, is a bit more abstract. It’s where you store and craft your spells. But that’s all for later."
Aster took in the explanation, the weight of it sinking in. "So... I just store them and they’ll be there when I need them?"
Musa nods. "You’ll learn how to access them at will, the speed of which, being crucial to your blending of the two fighting styles, into the Hybrid-Style. For now, just focus on storing them properly. You’ll find it easier to summon them after a couple of attempts. You’ll get into the other Dantains later, when you’re ready to understand the deeper parts of cultivation."
“Ok so how do I start?” Aster asks excitedly, standing with the staff and chain in hand, still trying to make sense of the strange idea of storing them in his body.
"Alright," Musa said, "let’s take it step by step. First, you need to feel the Stomach Palace. It’s an internal space, but it’s not something you can see—it's something you need to sense with your Will."
Aster looked down at the staff and chain in his hands. "Feel it? How?"
Musa smiled slightly, as if expecting this question. "Close your eyes for a moment, clear your thoughts, and focus inward towards your stomach. Sense for an empty space within you. It’s like a hollow cavity, not part of your physical body, but a vast open space that exists within your energy matrix."
Aster nodded, following his instructions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind. After a few moments of stillness, he began to focus his Will over his stomach, sensing what Musa had described. It didn’t feel like anything, other than a vague border leading to an open area inside of him.
"Now," Musa continued, his voice calm and steady, "take the staff in one hand and the chain in the other. Focus your Will on them and drag them. Your Will is the key—think of it as reaching out, grasping the items, and pulling them into that internal cavity. As you do so, the items will turn into a form of energy that will be allowed to cross over and be stored without having to worry about its weight, size or shape into what’s called the ‘energy state’ "
Aster furrowed his brow, trying to understand. The staff and chain were solid, tangible objects, he just couldn’t understand how to make them cross over and be stored into this so called ‘energy state’. But he tried anyway, allowing his Will to feel the weight of them, but instead of just holding them like he did the crystal during Will practice, he also focused on pulling them inward. He concentrated, feeling the subtle tug of his own Will, as if trying to guide them into the space inside his stomach.
At first, nothing happened. Aster gritted his teeth, frustrated. "It’s not working."
Musa chuckled softly. "It will take some time to get used to. You’re not just physically placing the items inside. You’re using your Will to guide them over the threshold into the Palace. Try again, but this time, try pulling from the Stomach Palace with your Will, you are using it from your Mind Place to try and shove it into the Stomach Palace, that’s not how that works, the Will can be originated from any of the three Dantians. Start from the Stomach Palace and pull the weapons toward you. You’re not pushing them in—you’re drawing them in with focus. It’s not about strength, it’s about the path."
Aster closed his eyes again, trying to feel the space inside him. This time, instead of trying to force the items in, he relaxed and focused all his attention on reaching from his stomach palace this time. Slowly, he starts sensing a pathway connecting his two hands to the border of his stomach palace. Reaching with his Will from within his Stomach Palace this time, he starts dragging the weapons from his hands, feeling them cross the border of his palms, suddenly transforming into something less solid, as they are practically drained and sucked through his arms and into his Stomach Palace.
His hands were now holding nothing but air, but he felt an odd sense of emptiness where the weapons had been. The space inside his stomach had accepted them and he could feel their weight comfortably drift in the space, weightless but still undeniably present.
Aster’s eyes snapped open, his heart racing. "I—did it. I can feel their presence inside my stomach, as if I can call them back with a thought."
Musa nodded, looking pleased. "Exactly. The Stomach Palace doesn’t take up space in the way your physical body does. It holds the items in a way that you can still access them, but without their weight or presence. Now, when you need them, all you have to do is call them."
Aster grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. "This is incredible. So I just… reach for them again?"
"Yes," Musa said, his smile widening slightly. "Focus on the Stomach Palace, and let the items return to your hands. It may feel odd at first, but with practice, it will become second nature.”
Aster focused on the empty space in his stomach once more, reaching for the staff and chain with his mind. After a moment, he felt them return to his hands, solid and real once more.
"This is amazing," Aster whispered, looking at the weapons with new appreciation. "Thank you, Musa."
Musa’s tone was warm. "You’re welcome. Ok, no that you have your weapons and scriptures we can head to the Market, we want to give you enough time to explore it before we need to meet up with Lena.”
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Aster’s eyes widened as they exited the mirror and stepped into the heart of the market, his breath catching in his throat. The scale of the place was beyond anything he could have imagined. The market stretched in every direction like a sprawling labyrinth, so vast that it seemed to stretch out infinitely under the thick canopy of magical light that hung overhead. The sound of thousands of voices echoed through the air, mixing with the clatter of metal, the hum of enchantments, and the occasional roar or hiss of some strange beast or contraption.
Musa pointed ahead. “Alloy Alley is just up ahead. But you might want to take a moment to look around. There’s nothing quite like your first time at the market.”
Aster could hardly hear him over the buzzing excitement of the place, his senses overwhelmed. There were stalls everywhere, each brimming with an unimaginable array of goods. Monster parts in various stages of preservation hung from hooks or were carefully displayed on wooden tables: massive claws, fangs longer than Aster’s forearm, and shimmering scales that seemed to pulse with life. He noticed a collection of skeletal wings, delicate but foreboding, their ghostly aura flickering as they swayed in the breeze. The scent of herbs, incense, and something sharp, like metal burning, filled his nostrils.
A table stacked high with glowing crystals caught his eye. They were arranged in a careful gradient of color, from deep violet to brilliant white, their surfaces reflecting flashes of arcane light. Aster reached out involuntarily, feeling an unseen pull. He saw the vendor, a wizened old woman whose milky eyes twinkled, giving him a knowing smile.
“You have a good eye,” she said, her voice raspy but kind. “These are Dreaming Crystals—imbued with condensed Spirit Essence. For a Spirit Typing like yours, they can be very useful in refining your cultivation.”
“How much?” Aster ventured.
The old woman seemed to struggle with some internal battle before she seems to make up her mind “Normally the dreaming crystal would go for 7 500 Faith but because you have such a keen eye I wish to help you along your journey and hopefully earn some good Karma, for you I’ll let it go for 5 000 Faith.
Aster quickly withdrew his hand as if it was about to poison him. ’5 000 Faith! His entire worth was barely 23 000 Faith, was the woman trying to bankrupt him this early out of the gate?’
Aster’s eyes suddenly go cold as he could only see this woman as some kind of financial assassin sent on his path by fate to ruin his life. The woman sensing the cold malice radiating form him backs off carefully looking for a guard.
“Not the time for distractions, Aster,” Musa suddenly steps in and drags Aster away from the poor saleswoman who was just trying to make a living. “Don’t buy anything yet before you understand your cultivation style, those pills would instantly move you from Initiate to Acolyte but would hamper your growth further down the line. Let’s meet up with Lena first before making any rash purchases.
Aster nodded, though his gaze lingered for a moment longer on the glowing stones before he tore himself away. As they made their way deeper into the market, the sights continued to astound him. Plant cuttings from rare, mythical plants were displayed alongside vials filled with pulsating, golden liquid. The air was thick with the scent of potent elixirs, and the hum of spiritual energy seemed to buzz at the very core of the market.
Every corner seemed to reveal something new: weapons forged from materials Aster couldn’t even name, armour that shimmered with protective runes, and strange artifacts whose purpose was unclear but unmistakably magical. It was as though the market itself existed at the intersection of every world—cultivation, mysticism, alchemy, and the arcane.
“This place…” Aster muttered under his breath. “It’s like a treasure trove of the entire world.”
Musa chuckled, leading him forward with confidence. “This place is nothing compared to other Markets found on the Archipelago, this market wasn’t even much compared to the other markets for Initiates, but yeah it blew my jaw to the floor the same as you when I first saw it.
Aster's heart skipped a beat as a faint growl echoed from a nearby stall, where a hulking beast was chained to the ground, its amber eyes glowing like two suns. “What’s that?”
“A Lesser Hoglite,” Musa explained. “A hybrid between a Shameblazer and a Greedhog. They’re dangerous, but some cultivators train them to serve as companions or guardians. Rare, but not unheard of.”
Aster couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and caution as the creature bared its teeth, its large frame rippling with latent power. How could such a thing exist so casually in a market? A place like this, where everything was a transaction, was a strange and potent reflection of the cultivation world itself—full of danger, wonder, and opportunities for both greatness and peril.
They continued walking, the noise of the market swallowing them whole, until they finally reached the end of the alley. At the farthest corner, Aster saw Lena waiting for them, sitting cross legged on the sidewalk, deep into a book.
She notices them over the pages and gets up to greet them.
“I was beginning to think you two were lost,” Lena called out, waving.
Aster grinned back, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting across the vibrant chaos of the market one last time. There was something magnetic about this place. The power, the wealth of knowledge and goods—it all called to him.
“Just getting a feel for the place,” Aster said, his voice full of wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Musa chuckled at that, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “And you’ll see a lot more. This is just the beginning.”
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With Lena accompanying them, the market proven far more tranquil than Aster had anticipated, where he had been harassed and insulted while moving through the market with Musa, those same people turned into playful kittens with Lena in their party. The entire venture—procurement of the rare materials he’d needed for his cultivation—went off without a single hitch. Each vendor had simply accepted their requests with a smile, never asking more than Lena was willing to pay, and each transaction executed with a surprising efficiency. For a place that teemed with so much energy and unpredictability, the whole process was boiled down to shockingly uneventful.
As Lena casually wove through the crowded lanes, she flipped through the list Aster had provided, mentally ticking off each item as it as she handed it to Aster as he drew it into his Stomach Palace. Aster couldn’t help but feel he was showing an effortless display of skill—no gestures, no incantations, just a momentary gleam in his eyes as the items folded into nothingness, bound for the hidden space in his stomach.
Musa and Lena exchanged amused glances, stifling their laughter as Aster’s chest puffed out just a little more with each successful attempt. They decided to let him revel in his small victory—after all, it was his first spell, even if it was something most initiates could do in their sleep.
"There you go, everything you asked for," Lena said with a wink. "All nice and neat."
"Thanks, Lena," Aster said, unable to keep the awe from his voice. "I thought getting all this together would take days?"
Lena flashed him a grin. “The stall vendors all know of my Family’s businesses, I had asked a family advisor to find the items for us and secure the prices beforehand”
"Nepotism for the win” Aster jokes “but thank you for all the help, Lena! I wouldn’t be able to have made it through today without you!”
"I needed just as much help when I first got here, I had my family to help, you don’t so I just figured I had to be that family for you " Lena replied, before releasing what she said and turning bright red, turning around and heading toward the path that would take them back to the academy. "We need to head on back, it’s almost time to return to our Material Selves"
With the errands behind them, the three begin making their way out of the market. The streets were beginning to clear as the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden hue over the towering stalls and stands. The air felt cooler now, the early morning mist lingering in the shadows, and Aster could feel the weight of exhaustion settling in.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, weaving through the shifting crowds, their footsteps echoing against the cobbled streets. As they passed the familiar sights of the market, Aster couldn’t help but reflect on everything that had happened. From the moment he had stepped foot in Galamad, the School’s sprawling depths had felt like a different world altogether, a world full of unknowns and dangers he could barely grasp. But now, after an entire day spent navigating its layouts, registering for the next day’s classes and gathering what he needed, the ritual surgery —the sealing away of the void wyrm and the death of Matter—felt as distant and foreign as a dream, like it was a lifetime ago.
The bustling activity around him seemed to fade as his mind wandered back to that first moment. Being attacked by those creatures in the convenient store and Matter stepping in just in time to save him. It had been the beginning of everything—his journey into cultivation, his pursuit of power, his meeting with Lena, and his eventual entry into the academy. The whole ordeal now seemed so surreal, like a piece of his past that was slowly drifting further out of reach.
Lena nudged him out of his thoughts. " You still look a little lost."
Aster blinked, shaking off the haze that had clouded his mind.
"You’re right," Aster said with a sigh, glancing at Lena. "After everything today, it feels like I’ve been gone for weeks already."
Lena laughed softly. "Time moves funny when you’re chasing after things. But don’t worry. Once you start your classes, you’ll find your normal."
Aster nodded, though he couldn’t shake the sense that "normal" was a concept that had become increasingly hard to grasp. As they approached the academy’s gates, the sense of familiarity settled over him. The towering walls of the school, its grand entrances guarded by stone statues, greeted them like old friends. He could feel the weight of his materials as they drifted weightlessly in his Stomach palace—returning to him in the form of his responsibilities.
Despite the overwhelming events of the past few days, there was something strangely comforting about returning to a routine. But this world, the academy, and everything they had encountered today in the market, had only amplified the daunting task of what lay ahead.
As they entered the school grounds, the sounds of the bustling city behind them slowly faded. Aster’s steps slowed as they neared the mirror Lena had told him would transport him back to his house where he would re-enter his Material Vessel, the weight of the journey on his mind settling into a quiet, introspective calm. Whatever would come next in his path was no longer just a story he’d heard of—it was his story now.
And for all the ease with which the market’s treasures had been procured, Aster couldn’t help but feel that the real challenge was only just beginning.