Immanuel and Elio hurtled through the dense forest, their feet barely touching the ground. Leaves and twigs snapped under their swift strides as they tossed blunted knives back and forth in a blur of motion. Immanuel, now matching Elio's speed, lunged to catch a knife, but it sailed past him. In a fluid motion, he leapt onto a thick branch, the bark rough under his palms. With a powerful push, he launched himself towards another tree, its massive trunk a blur of brown and green. Midair, he felt a sharp sting on his thigh - Elio's knife had found its mark.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Immanuel's eyes darted through the canopy, searching for Elio's form below. The call from Jager, sharp and commanding, cut through the sounds of the forest. "Here!" His voice boomed, echoing off the trees. Immanuel's heart raced, not from the run but from the irritation at being summoned like a dog. He and Elio changed course, leaves crunching underfoot as they raced back to the house.
Upon entering the training room, a sense of solemnity enveloped Immanuel. Jager, always a stoic figure, led them in. A woman, unknown to Immanuel, sat with an air of quiet authority. Her gaze was like steel, piercing and unwavering. Jager took his place on the floor and Immanuel, along with Elio, lowered themselves onto the cool, hard ground. The newcomer’s martial salute was crisp, precise, her left hand striking her shoulder with a soft thud.
Her voice was calm yet carried an underlying firmness as she spoke. "You are progressing admirably, Immanuel," she said, her eyes locked onto his. There was no warmth in her tone, only an acknowledgment of his efforts. "And we thank you for your generous gift. The armor is unlike anything we have seen." Immanuel's mind flickered to his lost armor, a twinge of regret passing through him. ‘Fuck I’m never going to see it again.’ he thought.
“I can only hope it will serve the family well.” He answered
"At the first night of the moons, there will be a celebration, and your status within the family will be confirmed," she declared, her gaze sweeping over Immanuel and Elio. "You have one week to advance to level three," her eyes hardened as they rested on Elio. “There has been an attack on the city. We suspect the Glimmerwoods’ family of collaborating with the sects. "We're aligning with the Emberwind family to restore order," she added, her eyes scanning both of them with a calculating intensity.
Outside, the steady patter of rain on the roof lent a rhythmic backdrop to the tense atmosphere. The air inside was heavy with moisture, the scent of damp earth and aged wood mingling subtly.
Turning her attention to Immanuel, she revealed a beast core. "For you, Immanuel, I have this treasure." As she extended the stage three Valcro bird core towards him, Immanuel's mind raced. He recognized its significance for his ascension. The dilemma of choosing between this core and the one given by the chimera, weighed on him as he executed a respectful martial salute and accepted it.
Elio's gift followed - a formidable stage three lycan core. "With recent conflicts against the sects, we have acquired a lycan core for you. It will increase your chances," she informed Elio, her tone matter-of-fact. "You have one week." Rising, she exited with an air of finality, leaving the weight of her words hanging in the air.
Jager, who had been silent, stood up. Immanuel followed suit, addressing him with gratitude, "Jager, thank you for your guidance." He offered a martial salute, which Jager returned. "I have duties to attend to. I'll return within the week," Jager announced, his gaze softening momentarily as he looked at Elio, "If you fail it will not be because of a lack of discipline or skill." With these parting words, Jager left.
Left alone, Immanuel noticed Elio, his attention fixed on the beast core before him. Breaking the silence, Immanuel suggested, "Let's take a walk." The two of them stepped outside, leaving the confines of the house and its heavy atmosphere. The rain continued to fall gently.
---
Outside, the forest was a symphony of life under the rain's diminishing cadence. The earthy scent of wet soil and leaves permeated the air, mingling with the faint aroma of distant flowers. Immanuel suggested a walk, and they moved through the damp underbrush, the forest alive with the chirps and rustles of hidden creatures.
Immanuel began, "Thank you for—" but Elio cut him off, a familiar edge to his words, "We do not give thanks." His face remained stoic, but a ghost of a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth.
Undeterred, Immanuel pressed on, "I am grateful to you, nonetheless." Elio's sigh was almost imperceptible, but his smile grew just a fraction. Immanuel continued, "You've been my anchor. I will ask one more time, why not stay at peak two?"
Elio's expression shifted to one of mild frustration. "You don't understand," he said, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword in a fluid motion. In a flash of steel, he drew the blade and sliced through the air, cleaving a passing insect in two. "To stop now would be to resign to a fate worse than a slave. And, it would be. The family invested a lot in me." He sheathed his sword with the same swift grace, his eyes meeting Immanuel's. "There is a war coming. The balance is close to sacred in our city. Either I grow and fight or be killed by our enemies."
"Speaking of balance, I don't understand why there aren't cultivators outside the five families. If—"
Elio interrupted, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "Sometimes, I forget how little you know. Any child showing potential is claimed by one of the families. It's a tightly regulated system." He looked into Immanuel's eyes, seeing the confusion there. "For most, it's a blessing. It elevates their family's status, brings wealth."
They walked in silence, each lost in their thoughts, until they reached the house again. Standing face to face, they leaned in, their foreheads touching in a silent, brotherly gesture.
Then, inside, Immanuel picked up the Valcro bird core. He had decided. This core would be his choice, the key to unlocking a part of his core energy and manifesting his first true skill at stage three. Maybe I should call it flicker, or celestial shift? He sat down, the core in his hand, and looked across at Elio. "You first," Elio said, “I want to see your success."
Elio's eyes held a mixture of pride and anticipation as Immanuel took a deep breath, closing his eyes to focus. He reached inward, preparing to merge with the core's power.
The immense power surged into his core, an overwhelming force beyond anything he had ever encountered, exceeding even his own. Familiarity tinged the torrent of energy; his core resonated with it, sending ripples throughout his being. Immanuel, teeth clenched in determination, marshaled his own zeal to meet this relentless tide. His core teetered on the brink of rupture. Abruptly, a shift occurred. His own energy, ascending to a superior state, began to assimilate the foreign power. As it did, his core's boundaries became more pronounced, more tangible. This newfound energy extended into his body, and then, there it was – the flicker. The key. When the transformation completed, Immanuel found himself sprawled on the floor, the scent of Elio's tea lingering in the air. His eyes fluttered open. "Congratulations," he heard.
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Immanuel reveled in a newfound strength, yet an odd weariness clung to him. Elio's broad smile cut through the fatigue. "Damn, you make it look effortless. Already back on your feet," he said.
"Now it's your turn." Immanuel answered.
"Maybe a walk first, to ensure you're fully alert." Elio countered playfully.
"Or we could spar, and I will fucking wreck you." This challenge sparked a fire in Elio. He strode to the room's center, settled down, and firmly grasped the core. His gaze met Immanuel's. "See you on the other side," he declared, absorbing the core. Immanuel watched, a mix of anticipation and concern, as Elio's face twisted into a pained grimace.
Elio's body convulsed in what seemed like an endless epileptic seizure, each spasm wrenching through him relentlessly. As the hours dragged on, the sight became excruciating for Immanuel to witness. Overwhelmed, he stepped outside, seeking a brief respite from the harrowing scene. However, guilt gnawed at him, drawing him back inside to Elio's side. Settling down behind Elio, Immanuel carefully cradled his head in his lap, disregarding the belief that a cultivator must endure such trials alone. “Fuck them" he thought, a defiant resolve in his heart.
As time inexorably passed, Immanuel spoke softly to Elio, offering words of comfort and strength. Finally, with the arrival of morning, Elio's body ceased its violent trembling, falling eerily still. Immanuel's heart skipped a beat as Elio's breathing momentarily stopped, fear gripping him as he braced for the worst. Then, a deep, life-affirming breath filled Elio's lungs, signaling the end of his ordeal.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Immanuel intoned, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and concern. The silence that followed was heavy, stretching on, leaving Immanuel fraught with worry. Then, breaking the tense stillness, Elio slowly lifted his left hand, clenching it into a weak fist. Grasping Elio's arm, Immanuel gently aided him to rise. Elio's voice, raspy and feeble, broke through, "I thought this was supposed to make me stronger." His words were laced with a weary incredulity, his condition clearly far from robust. Together, they made their way to the riverside, where they cleansed themselves and drank, the cool water bringing a semblance of refreshment.
Returning inside, Elio slumped against the wall with a pained groan, the effort taxing his weakened state. "You okay there?" Immanuel inquired, as he ventured towards the room in the back were only Jager was allowed. There, to his surprise, lay provisions left by Jager—enough for a celebratory feast, alongside a bed and a low table surrounded by cushions. "That bastard," he thought.
Gathering all the provisions, Immanuel methodically arranged them in the training room, anticipation and relief mingling in his actions. "Let's eat and drink, but first—" he paused, his gaze softening as he approached Elio. Lifting him in a supportive embrace, he said with heartfelt sincerity, "I'm so damn relieved you made it through. It looked agonizing." Elio, momentarily taken aback by the breach of customary restraint, reciprocated the hug. "We're not supposed to hug," he murmured, a hint of humor in his voice. "Glad you made it too," he added, his voice warm.
Settling down, they began to feast on the spread before them—smoked fish, a variety of nuts, an assortment of fruits, and a potent alcoholic drink with a distinct anise flavor. "That ordeal loomed over me like a foreboding shadow," Elio confessed, his spirits visibly lifting as he ate and drank. Gradually, his demeanor brightened, a vibrant energy returning to him. "We did it! YES! Finally, we're beyond the ruins," he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up between them.
Immanuel, caught up in the moment, proposed, "We still have a few days. Let's go hunting. Find something grand, like a red-striped cat," he chuckled at the thought. "Let's run, leap, and push our newfound strengths. Who knows what we'll discover. But first, let's finish our feast!"
After their hearty meal, the effects of the drink set in, leaving them pleasantly inebriated. They collapsed onto the cushions falling into a deep sleep not waking up until the next morning.
---
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight caressed the land, Immanuel awoke and made his way to the river for a refreshing drink. He ignited his core, reveling in the newfound power coursing through his veins. It was exhilarating, almost overwhelming in its intensity. If his stage two core was akin to a mighty locomotive, thundering with relentless force, this felt like a cataclysmic atomic bomb detonation. He felt like a force of nature, like he could jump over a mountain. He felt like a hurricane, whirling with such immense energy that it could bend the very fabric of reality to his will.
Elio, leaning casually against the doorway with an amused glint in his eyes, called out, "You good there?" His voice carried a playful challenge. "Let's see what you've got. Let's spar!"
Before Elio could react, Immanuel, charged with energy, dashed towards him, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. In one swift motion, he reached Elio, playfully locking him in a mock chokehold. "Come on, show me your power!" he taunted, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Elio, not one to back down, had already ignited his core, its energy pulsing. With a burst of strength, he expertly maneuvered out of Immanuel's grip, their laughter mingling in the crisp air. The two friends circled each other, feinting and dodging with the grace and agility of seasoned warriors.
Immanuel lunged, feigning a strike, only for Elio to parry swiftly, countering with a playful shove that sent Immanuel staggering back a few steps, grinning widely. They exchanged a series of blows, testing each other's defenses, their cores radiating within their bodies.
In one electrifying moment, clarity struck Immanuel like a bolt of lightning. It was a realization so profound, a certainty that had eluded his grasp until now, like a name on the tip of his tongue finally spoken. He knew, unequivocally, that he could do it. As Elio lunged towards him, Immanuel tapped into the depths of his newfound power, activating his full body convert to energy technique. In a flash, he propelled forward, materializing instantaneously behind a startled Elio. Standing there, a mix of shock and triumph on his face, Immanuel exclaimed, "I did it! I actually did it!"
The effort to fully convert was immense, like channeling the raw, unbridled power of a supernova. He estimated he could execute this feat only three or four times in his current early stage 3, but the sensation was exhilarating.
Elio approached him from behind. "Now that's a nice move," he praised, a grin spreading across his face. Suddenly, he playfully shoved Immanuel, declaring, "Let's run. Tag, you're it!" Sent tumbling forward, Immanuel quickly regained his footing and, with a burst of speed, chased after Elio.
Perched high on a branch, Immanuel paused, feeling the dampness of the leaves around him. Elio stopped a little distance away, eyeing the dense foliage. "Let's hunt," Immanuel suggested, scanning the forest.
"I'm no hunter, and definitely not a tracker," Elio responded. "Maybe if we just wander, something will decide to attack us." Immanuel’s chuckle echoed softly through the trees.
"Eventually, yes," Elio agreed, leaping effortlessly to join Immanuel on the higher branches. "But it's not as simple as finding a beast's trail. Yes, we'll get attacked sooner or later, but I'm not keen on aimlessly roaming, not knowing what we might find or what might find us."
As Elio prepared to move on, Immanuel reached out, grabbing his arm with a look of pleading. Elio, pausing, continued, "And remember, hunting is about teamwork and overwhelming force. You research your target, plan your approach, and then execute a methodical takedown. It's not about running around until something pops up."
With a swift motion, Elio pulled away from Immanuel's grasp, lightly flicking his forehead as he did so. "Tag, you're it," he said playfully as he leapt away, blending into the forest's canopy.