The marketplace buzzed with a frenzy unlike any David had witnessed. A juicy rumor, overheard from a nearby conversation, ignited a spark in every mage's heart - a secret realm had been discovered in Amethyst Mountain.
"Amethyst Mountain, ye say? A secret realm?" Brynja's voice rasped with excitement, her eyes gleaming like ice crystals. "Ancient techniques? Artifacts that boost yer mana?" The excitement was palpable.
A skeptical snort from a mage next to Brynja countered the enthusiasm. "Easy now, girl. It's likely just idle chatter."
But a hunter, clad in furs, chimed in, his eyes alight with a fervent glow. "'Tis more than just techniques, I tell ye. They say they found an Aer Weaver's catalyst! A true game-changer, that be."
The news was like wildfire. Weaver's catalyst! A treasure that could change the course of many magic user's life, something they could spend their whole lives striving for. For low-level independents like David, the climb to the Wave Weaver status felt like a sheer, impassable cliff face. Decades of toiling might not even get them close.
But a lucky break - an ancient relic, a powerful elixir - could propel them forward in a single leap. With access to the right resources - elixirs, powerful techniques - David, with his unimpressive saidin pattern, could potentially breach the Wave Weaver's barrier within five to ten years. This was the kind of opportunity countless weavers craved.
A lass, her eyes sparkling with a fierce hope, grabbed hold of the rumor-monger. "What kind o' catalyst, then?" she demanded, her breath fogging in the frigid air.
The hunter, his voice barely above a whisper, replied, "A vial o' Earth Fire Energy, they say. A right powerful thing for breakin' through the physical barrier."
A grizzled mage nearby let out a sigh that echoed the wind's howl. "Pity it ain't the Manastream," he grumbled.
"There was no such thing in ancient times," chuckled a scholar. "Modern people can also surpass the ancients. That elixir, a recent invention by the great Elijah Stonekeeper, the most renowned alchemist in thousands of years - its formula streamlines the condensation process, increasing Aer Weaver's breakthrough chances by a staggering 50%!"
The name "Manastream" hung in the air, a siren song to every mage present. Desire flickered across David's face, mirroring the spark of frenzy in the crowd. But as he watched mages scramble to buy scrolls and weapons, a chill settled in his heart.
Secret realms, he knew, weren't just about navigating dangers of the ruins, but also the danger of men, a crucible testing the bonds of trust. Friendship, loyalty, even master-disciple relationships could crumble under the allure of the Wave Weaver realm.
David chose to retreat from the maddening rush, seeking solace in the tranquility of his bamboo field. Yet, the thought of the Manastream lingered in his mind, a tantalizing promise of power. He knew that ascending to Wave Weaver was not for the faint of heart. Reaching the pinnacle of the Aer Weaver realm by the age of sixty was merely the first hurdle.
The true challenge lay in breaching three formidable walls. The first was the physical barrier, demanding a robust physique free of hidden injuries. The second was the mana barrier, requiring a vast and pure reservoir of mana.
And the final wall, the most enigmatic of all, was the birth of external senses. Aer Weavers possessed a photographic memory, heightened senses, and a profound inner awareness, allowing them to perceive the intricacies of their own bodies with the clarity of a surgeon's scalpel. Yet, their senses remained confined to the physical realm. Wave Weavers, on the other hand, wielded a powerful sensual awareness that extended yards beyond their bodies, granting them an almost omniscient perception of their surroundings. They could sense the subtlest fluctuations in the air, the hidden currents of mana, and even the burrow of a worm under the earth, as if their inner vision had expanded to encompass the world around them.
Any elixir or item aiding in overcoming these obstacles was considered an Aer Weaver's catalyst.
David pondered the scholar's words. "Ancient mages sought solutions for each barrier. Earth Fire Energy, for instance, honed the physique, while Ironweed strengthened the body, both aiding in breaching the physical barrier. Similar solutions existed for the mana barrier."
"But the birth of external senses? That was a realm of rare, celestial treasures like the Broken Love Flower and the Pristine Luna, coveted not only by Wave Weaver hopefuls but also by those aiming for the Stone Weaver's realm. The competition for such treasures was fierce."
"Thankfully, a beacon of hope emerged two millennia ago. Elijah Stonekeeper developed the Manastream Elixir. This remarkable concoction not only fortified mage's body, but also boosted mana reserves and nurtured the nascent spark of external senses. With a single dose, the success rate for ascension rose by 50%. Even in case of failure, the elixir safeguarded against the potentially fatal consequences of shattering saidar and saidin."
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"Even ancient mages struggled with Weaver's ascension," the scholar continued, "except for those incredibly rare catalysts, most resources only nudge the success rate slightly."
"Stonekeeper, however, has been a boon to the magical world for two millennia. His Manastream is a testament to how far we've surpassed the ancients."
David chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "Isn't counting someone lived two thousand years ago as 'we' a bit of a stretch?" He quipped, a hint of amusement played on his lips. Still, whispers claimed Weavers of Nature could live a millennium long. So perhaps "we" wasn't entirely inappropriate. "Maybe he is still living among us." David mused.
---
In the bamboo forest.
Emerald leaves, like opulent jewels, drifted down from the towering Jasper Bamboo canopy. David snatched one, its cool touch a stark contrast to the winter chill. These leaves, discarded by most mana farmers, were worth more than their weight in gold in the Three Kingdoms. A wry smile touched his lips as he thought of the irony.
David's gaze swept over the Jade Bamboo field. With a practiced flick of his palm, he severed a branch, the sharp snap echoing in the crisp air. He peeled back the bamboo skin, revealing the jade-green rice nestled within. A sweet, earthy fragrance filled his nostrils as he plucked a few grains and popped them into his mouth. The taste was divine, a burst of mana energy that warmed him from the inside out. "A good harvest this spring," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against the silence of the forest.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. With a deep breath, David launched into a series of swift, almost spectral hand movements. The air crackled with unseen energy. He moved like a serpent gliding over the snow, his body a blur of controlled power. Every muscle coiled and uncoiled with practiced ease. Then, with a lightning-fast kick, his leg whipped out like a boneless snake. The impact ripped a deep gash into the bark of a nearby pine, sending a tremor through the snow-laden ground.
"Qi and blood..." David breathed, the words frosting in the air. A jolt of exhilaration shot through him. He'd unlocked something primal, a rudimentary grasp of the Three Kingdoms' martial arts! This wasn't just theory anymore. He could feel it - a surge of power coursing through his veins, a newfound control over his own life force. With dedication, he could delve deeper, mastering the art of qi and blood transformations and unlocking even greater potential.
A slow smile spread across his face. "Not a martial arts prodigy," he conceded, "but controlling my qi and blood... that felt strangely easy." A flicker of wonder lit his eyes. Perhaps, in this world teeming with mana, martial arts training truly thrived. Here, the very air vibrated with energy, making the manipulation of his life force significantly easier compared to that in the Three Kingdoms. He clenched his fist, the sensation of surging power lingering. This was more than just a new skill; it was a doorway to a whole new world of possibilities.
Piaomiao Mu's words echoed in David's mind. Beyond the three transformations of qi and blood lay a realm reserved for true martial arts masters. Here, qi and blood were completely condensed, granting the user an uncanny stillness. They moved like phantoms, channeling their power at will. Even at the ripe age of eighty, their vigor remained undimmed. Only death could disperse this potent energy.
A spark ignited in David's eyes. Reaching the level of a martial arts master meant his qi and blood would be locked away, impervious to the passage of time. No longer would he be tethered to the age of sixty, the supposed deadline for Aer Weaver's ascension.
"Even at seventy, eighty, even ninety," he murmured, the idea electrifying, "I could attempt mana condensation without the limitations of dwindling qi and blood. At least on that front, I'd be free."
This Three Kingdoms' Qi and Blood Martial Art was akin to a potent elixir, offering benefits equivalent to a third of the Manastream Elixir! The potential was undeniable. By strategically combining resources from both worlds, exploiting their strengths to plug his weaknesses, David, with unwavering dedication, could find a path towards unparalleled growth, all while cloaked in secrecy.
A genuine smile graced his lips. Never since embarking on his interdimensional travels had he felt such unshakeable confidence in his future.
Days bled into each other, the excitement in the Jade Bamboo Mountain reaching a fever pitch. Even David's ramshackle home couldn't shield him from the chaos. One morning, a grizzled figure emerged from a nearby hut, brandishing a chipped Verdant Edge, a low-grade magical weapon. This was Old Barley, his weathered face etched with a desperate resolve that belied his usual jovial demeanor.
"Where to, Old Barley?" David blurted, surprised by the sight of his neighbor armed and ready for adventure.
"Amethyst Mountain, o' course!" the old man barked, a gap-toothed grin revealing his fierce determination. "A man's gotta risk it all 'fore the frost settles on his bones for good. Back in me younger days, when I was your age, I had a chance... but I lost me nerve. Now, regret gnaws at me heart like a pack o' hungry wolves every night."
David knew arguing would be futile. The old man's mind was set. Still, he offered a parting wish, "Then may your ascension be blessed, Old Barley."
Knowing old Barley's penchant for overindulgence, David privately doubted his old neighbor's chances.
Old Barley let out a dry chuckle, his voice a rasp in the cold air. "Gave up on Wave Weaver ages ago, I did. But I got a grandson, a sharp young lad, not like his ol' grandpa..." He waved a gnarled hand, shuffling on his way. Seemed like on the edge of this gamble, Old Barley only wanted to pave a smoother path for his kin.
David watched the snowflakes swallow Old Barley's footprints, a sigh escaping his lips. He couldn't fathom the missed opportunity that haunted the old man, but it was clear the weight of regret had become a heavy burden. Yet, David couldn't help but wonder...
"Without the Three Kingdoms' resources, would I even consider such venture?" he questioned himself, frozen in thought by his doorway.
The choice seemed stark: a life of quiet obscurity at the bottom of the magic world, or a desperate lunge for a chance at Wave Weaving mastery, a feat that would earn him respect and recognition.
"Better buckle down and train," he decided, a newfound determination settling in his gut. There was no time to waste.