ã€ŠMisbegotten Memoriesã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Volithur shivered at the head of the line as the Steward of the Lord General scrutinized him. Invisible strands of power, strong as steel cables, hauled Volithur about in a lurching circle, turning him like an animal on display. Each tug came without warning and threw him off balance. Volithur barely managed to stay upright as the Steward scowled down at him.

    The inspection of the youths had lasted all of that morning. They had been roused from whatever fitful slumber they had managed on the marble floor of the packed county courthouse, then sorted by the rough hands of soldiers into various lines. The very young were placed into the hovering transport ships of the invaders and flown away with promises that they would receive new families soon who would be stronger than their old ones.

    If that hadn¡¯t been sufficiently problematic, the most attractive of the young women were rounded up and taken away by a hungry-looking officer to a fate Volithur preferred not to imagine. The youths with the sturdiest frames were pressured into volunteering to enter into military service with the foreigners who had killed their parents, destroyed their homes, and stolen their futures. Most succumbed to the pressure to sign on with the invaders. After all, they had all seen how pointless resistance against these terrifying gods was.

    Volithur, however, found himself sorted into another group altogether. One that marched to a nearby cathedral to be appraised one at a time by a representative of the enemy general. Those who were deemed worthy left the chamber through the rear entrance. Everyone else had to retreat to the antechamber, where sneering officers selected from among their numbers.

    The night of poor sleep, without blankets on cold marble, had been poor preparation for a day of standing. Volithur barely kept his feet as invisible cables at one shoulder and the opposite foot tugged him to squarely face the Steward once more. ¡°This one will be presented to the Lord General as a potential ward. Exit to the rear.¡±

    Volithur stumbled forward at an invisible hand to the back, then continued towards the rear door on momentum. Before he could question the turn of events that saw him as part of a tiny minority, one of the soldiers waiting in the back room seized Volithur by the wrist and pulled him inside. He found himself sitting on a rug with his back against the wall, a glass of water in his hands and a ration bar placed in front of him. Only three other children were there, two boys and a girl, all on the cusp of adulthood like himself.

    The soldier eyed Volithur with naked skepticism. ¡°Congratulations, young man. You are to be the ward of a great man. If you are mindful of your place and work hard, you may even rise in rank to join the Lord General¡¯s army. A bad attitude will see you out on the streets or six feet under. Drink and eat for now. You will need your strength soon.¡±

    It was the first time one of the invaders had ever addressed him as a human. ¡°My parents are dead,¡± he said. ¡°Their heads crushed when they tried to surrender.¡±

    The soldier snorted, then turned and spat. ¡°The Jinn would have done worse. Eat up now.¡±

    After a moment, Volithur did so. The last several days had been difficult. First, explosions had rocked their neighborhood. Then the power went out, cutting off any source of news. A day later, public water stopped working. Volithur¡¯s parents had a small amount of canned drinks and bottled water, but it didn¡¯t last long. The local stores had been looted before they even thought to stock up.

    They had gotten in their car to leave the city, then had to turn back for home when it became clear that roadblocks had sealed off every means of escape. Piles of vehicles, tanks, and concrete barriers were erected as if by magic to create strategic choke points. Traffic jams were everywhere.

    Back home, they heard the intermittent sounds of explosions and gunfire. No one knew what was happening. Then their door had been ripped from its hinges and they had been forced outside to kneel in the street with all their neighbors.

    Soldiers with hard eyes in unfamiliar uniforms had gone down the line of sobbing civilians and executed the majority. Volithur¡¯s parents wailed their surrender and begged mercy for their child. Their second request had been granted, at least. Volithur was brought to the courthouse with the other youths. And now he was to be ward to some ¡®great man¡¯. Volithur wanted to fight back against the invaders, but he had no power to resist them. All he had was grief and fear. And physical needs. Volithur drank the entire bottle of water down in desperate gulps before tearing into the ration bar. Then he closed his eyes, numb, as he drifted into a dark sleep.

    Volithur startled awake at the sound of a loud clap. The soldier who had given him food and water stood in the center of the room. Around the perimeter sat six youths now, counting himself. Four boys and two girls. The soldier motioned for them to stand. ¡°You will be formally accepting your wardships in a few minutes. This may be the only time you interact with the Lord General in your entire lives. Do not make a bad impression. He is a great man and does not tolerate disrespect. If any of you are entertaining ideas of refusing his offer, tell me now and we will arrange for you to join the military recruits instead.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    No one said a word as they slumped against the walls in defeat. ¡°Good,¡± the soldier said. ¡°The ceremony is simple. You come forward when called for, take a knee and keep your eyes low in respect. Look at the feet of your betters, as they say. When you are asked if you agree to be his ward, you say ¡®yes, Lord General¡¯. Very simple. Three words. If he asks you any other questions, answer with as few words as possible, always ending with ¡®Lord General¡¯. Once you are told to stand, you sign a contract. If you are offered congratulations, at that time you would respond ¡®thank you, Master Thrakkar¡¯. Slightly different form of address to reflect your new relationship. Simple stuff. Do not mess it up.¡±

    The six of them were lined up and marched back into the main chamber, where a middle-aged man with stern, sharp features sat upon the velvet chair of the holy avatar. The seat kept eternally empty at the front of the cathedral for the god of Volithur¡¯s people to claim upon his descent from heaven. To sit in it was blasphemy of the highest order. In ages past, people were executed for the offense. In the modern age, it was punished with a hefty fine and social ostracization. Yet what could anyone do? With the power the invaders held, they might as well be gods.

    Beside the seated man, the Steward stood with a bundle of paperwork spread over the alter. ¡°First child, step forward,¡± the Steward intoned. A girl stumbled forward a few steps, no doubt prodded by the man¡¯s power, and collapsed to both knees, where she remained.

    ¡°She has the looks favored by your thirty-second son,¡± the Steward said, this time with a smooth obsequiousness rather than the commanding tone he used with others. ¡°I had thought to place her as a ward with your first household, placed under the castellan.¡±

    The Lord General¡¯s eyes bored into the girl. ¡°Agreed.¡±

    ¡°Your name, child?¡±

    ¡°Liavon,¡± she whispered.

    The Steward made a note of that. ¡°Liavon, do you agree to serve Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth as a loyal ward, obeying all orders from his Lordship and his representatives?¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± she whispered.

    The Steward paused. ¡°My words were on behalf of the Lord General. You are to address him.¡±

    ¡°I agree, Lord General,¡± the girl whispered.

    ¡°Stand and sign,¡± the Steward commanded. The girl climbed to her feet, scribbled her name with the offered pen, and then allowed herself to be guided away.

    ¡°Next,¡± the Steward said and one of the boys began to walk forward.

    ¡°Him next,¡± the Lord General said.

    Volithur glanced up and froze like a mouse faced with a snake. The Lord General¡¯s finger pointed directly at him. He swallowed once, then took shaky steps forward and took a knee. His eyes fixed on the Lord General¡¯s bare feet as had been suggested.

    ¡°Look up at me,¡± the Lord General commanded.

    Volithur obeyed, almost losing his balance on his one knee in the process. His armpits were absolutely soaked, dripping cold droplets that ran down his arms all the way to his wrists.

    ¡°He has the look of Harridan,¡± the Lord General mused.

    The Steward nodded. ¡°He bears a startling resemblance to your late footman, Lord.¡±

    ¡°Does he have potential to match?¡±

    ¡°As much as any of these primitives display,¡± the Steward said.

    ¡°What is your name?¡±

    ¡°Volithur, Lord General.¡±

    The man pondered that from his seat. ¡°No more. You are now Harridan. Where did you plan to place this one? It would be insensitive to bring him to the second household where Harridan¡¯s mother still lives.¡±

    ¡°I had thought the fifth household, Lord. Placed under the marshal there.¡±

    ¡°That is reasonable,¡± the Lord General agreed. ¡°Make a note that I want him to be educated.¡±

    The Steward brought pen to paper. ¡°It is done, Lord.¡±

    ¡°Swear him in, then.¡±

    The Steward made eye contact with Volithur. ¡°Harridan, do you agree to serve Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth as a loyal ward, obeying all orders from his Lordship and his representatives?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lord General,¡± Volithur managed.

    ¡°Stand and sign,¡± the Steward commanded. The man held a pen out for Volithur to take, then surreptitiously pointed out the name at the top of the contract so that Volithur could correctly spell his new name. He printed the moniker on the paper and handed the pen back.

    As a soldier came to remove Volithur, the Lord General spoke.

    ¡°Congratulations, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lord General,¡± Volithur said.

    The Lord General nodded as if bestowing a great honor and turned his attention elsewhere. The soldier dragged Volithur into the back room once more. He found another bottle of water and ration bar. ¡°You¡¯re lucky,¡± the soldier said. ¡°You¡¯ll be eating good and receiving a true education.¡±

    Volithur stared at the cheerful face of the soldier. ¡°I already have an education. I was going to be an electronics technician.¡±

    The soldier¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh my, you should not share such facts. Electronics are the type of thing the Jinn mess around with. If you go around talking about electronics, people will think you are an enemy sympathizer.¡±

    Volithur slumped down to slurp his water and eat the hard ration bar. He didn¡¯t know what sort of life he had been dragged into. The future hid behind a shroud of ignorance. He was something called a ward now, and was going to live in the ¡®fifth household¡¯ of a man revered by soldiers who could crush skulls with a thought. Everything he knew of these people suggested it would be a terrible existence for him.

    At the moment, though, he was numb and tired and hungry. Thoughts of rebellion would have to wait for later.

 Chapter 2

    Hector gasped as he came awake to the strident beeps of his alarm, clutching at the remnants of the powerful dream that had just been ripped away from him. It had been so real, like he actually lived through it. He remembered the grief and the exhaustion and the discomfort, then the fear when faced with the Lord General. The cowardly acceptance of his renaming. The memory of that brought a surge of heat to Hector¡¯s chest. How dare the killers of his parents force a new name upon him? He ought to¡­.

    None of that was real, he thought. Hector pushed down the emotions and turned the alarm clock off. He had enough drama in his real life without getting sucked into the imaginary woes of a dream character.

    His father was unlikely to leave the hospital alive this time, his boss was playing hardball with the budget, and Jennifer had been trying to get back together with him. If anything, Volithur should be getting upset on Hector¡¯s behalf. Sorry, kid, I¡¯m going to focus on my own struggles for a while and probably forget all about your stuff. If I ever dream about being you again, though, I¡¯m going to strangle that Lord General Asshole.

    Hector rolled out of bed, limbered up his back with a couple of stretches, and shuffled to the bathroom for his morning routine. Not long after, he left his house with a bag over his shoulder. He drove a couple of miles to the gym he was a member of and used his electronic fob to gain entry.

    I bet the Lord General Asshole would hate key-less entry systems. He shook the thought out of his head, surprised the memories still stuck with him. Most dreams vanished from his mind within minutes of waking, with the exception of the nightmare where his teeth fell out. Maybe there were two exceptions now. He might prefer the teeth one if given the choice. At least that one was quick and done.

    It was a Wednesday, which meant resistance training was on the menu. Hector placed his bag in the locker room and claimed an open squat rack. Owing to the early hour, it was mostly old guys and one young fellow. Hector was not the young fellow, though he sometimes forgot that fact. He configured the hook height, placed a wooden box, and then did a few warm-up sets of box squats with just the bar. Then he began adding weight. Nothing too much, as his back was no longer as supple as it had once been and even minor injuries required weeks of healing.

    I can¡¯t believe I was dreaming about being a teenager this morning. I might sometimes forget that I¡¯m in my fifties now, but I never confuse myself for a kid. Following five sets of squats, Hector moved the bar out of the rack and strapped on a back brace. Then he proceeded to dead lift five sets at a moderate weight. When he finished that, he put away the bar and moved on to a bench press. Five sets of that and it was time for weighted pull-ups. With that out of the way, there was only one thing left. Hector grabbed a heavy kettle-bell in one hand, stood with a straight spine, and walked across the room and back. Then he switched hands and did the same thing again. A few more sets and he hit the shower.

    His gym clothes went away and out came khaki pants, a polo shirt, and nice steel-toed boots. Hector drove straight to the hospital and went inside to the room he was getting to know so well. His father lay insensate in his gown, the television tuned into some infomercial selling fancy pots and pans that did a decent job of drowning out the constant beeps and hisses of the environment.

    Terry Thoreaux looked like a disposed outer garment that his muscles had removed and left behind. Hector sighed as he sat beside his wheezing father, wondering how long they had. Wondering if it was more selfish to want the days that remained to be many or to be few. This weak, skeletal figure had very little resemblance to the powerful figure he had known his whole life.

    Cancer would do that to a body. Drain away all the strength and vitality until all that remained was a shell of the person that could barely gasp in the next breath. Eventually, Hector knew, it wouldn¡¯t even be able to do that. He tried not to imagine the many and varied options for final moments. Passing peacefully while asleep somehow seemed the most terrifying. You just expired without even being aware that it was happening.

    His mother had gone that way, taken by a heart attack in her sleep. Cindy Thoreaux never even knew she was at risk for a cardiac event. She went to sleep with plans to clean up the motor home in preparation for camping season and that was it. Had she known it was coming, maybe she would have had something important to say or an important memory to reflect upon or even just the chance to stare down death in defiance as it came for her. Instead, she just stopped existing.

    Hector didn¡¯t know that fighting a losing battle until the last moment was any better, but surely it couldn¡¯t be any worse. The joke from when he had been a kid was that the best way to go out was by heart attack as an eighty year old banging an eighteen year old babe. It had been funny back then. Now, he couldn¡¯t help but notice several problems with it. First, eighty didn¡¯t seem all that old to him any longer. Second, the extreme age difference had more than a little ick factor. And third, there would be no dignity whatsoever in a corpse that expired mid-action.

    A quiet knock on the open door caught his attention. A gray-haired doctor approximately Hector¡¯s age entered the room. ¡°How are you today, Mr. Thoreaux?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Doctor. The real question, how is the patient?¡±

    The doctor nodded. ¡°Stable. That¡¯s about the best we can hope for at this point. Have you thought more about moving him to hospice?¡±

    Hector felt his heart flutter. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, doc. I live alone and I can¡¯t take off too many more days from work this year.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Hospice doesn¡¯t have to be in your home. There are places that specialize in providing palliative care as the end nears. There would be dedicated staff present to ease any physical pain or emotional distress he might experience.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Hector muttered.

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to get better. The masses are occluding the blood supply to several organs and he is too weak to survive surgery and chemotherapy. I know it¡¯s a difficult decision, but the hospital is not a peaceful environment to pass in.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give it some more thought, doc,¡± Hector blurted out.

    The doctor sighed. ¡°That¡¯s all I can ask for, Mr. Thoreaux. I¡¯ve got to make my rounds.¡±

    Hector let his head sink down to his hands. He knew the doctors and nurses were right. He just couldn¡¯t give up on his dad. His family had never been large, not even before the tragedies began. His younger brother had died in a car wreck two weeks before high school graduation. His favorite uncle overdosed when a mid-life crisis led him to trying everything he hadn¡¯t done when younger. His mother with the heart attack. Jennifer separated from him because he ¡®worked too much¡¯, though who knew if they were reconciling or moving forward with a divorce. Now his dad.

    A phantom pain stabbed him in the chest as he vividly recalled seeing the heads of his parents crunch into gory balls. Not my parents, he reminded himself. Those were Volithur¡¯s parents and Volithur wasn¡¯t real.

    ¡°Hey there, kiddo,¡± his father wheezed, blinking up at him. ¡°Been here long?¡±

    ¡°Just sat down, dad,¡± he responded, banishing all traces of grief from his features. ¡°I was really looking forward to seeing the lady on TV talk about how easy these pans are to clean, but we can chat if you like.¡±

    ¡°Cleaning pans. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?¡±

    Hector winced. ¡°Dad, I¡¯m fifty-two years old, I have no idea what the kids call anything.¡±

    ¡°They say ¡®fire¡¯ when they like something,¡± his dad wheezed.

    ¡°Not in a crowded theater, I hope.¡±

    His dad smiled for a few seconds before the energy drained out of him. ¡°Funny thing, Hector. Slept all day and still tired. At least the dreams have been good.¡±

    Hector forced a laugh. ¡°I had quite the dream myself last night.¡±

    ¡°There you go. Mine have been so realistic, though. Might be because my time is close. One last adventure while I¡¯m bedridden.¡± His dad smiled up at the ceiling for a moment. ¡°Got lucky with a cute girl. I woke just as we finished up.¡±

    ¡°I swear, dad, if you start telling me the details of your wet dreams I am going to have the funeral director dress you up like a woman.¡±

    ¡°Guys from the lodge would get a hoot out of that. I do have a serious request, though.¡±

    Hector leaned in closer, caught between a goofy grin and serious expression. The ¡®serious request¡¯ could go either way with his dad.

    ¡°Put a banana in my trousers for the showing. I told all my friends I was hung like a stallion.¡±

    Hector snickered as he sat back. ¡°I just might carry through on one of these requests.¡±

    ¡°Which one would you pick? Chicklets in place of my teeth?¡±

    ¡°While that would be hilarious, that would be a little too involved. And we both know posing your body to do a keg stand isn¡¯t very realistic. I think I have to go with the girl mannequin.¡±

    ¡°Dressed in sexy lingerie.¡±

    ¡°Of course. My daddy didn¡¯t raise no fool.¡±

    ¡°Debatable.¡±

    Hector sighed. ¡°It really is. Jennifer has been calling me.¡±

    His dad grunted.

    ¡°I guess she got all the wild experiences she wanted when we were separated and wants a stable financial situation again.¡± Hector shook his head. ¡°It would save a lot of money if we called off the divorce.¡±

    ¡°Money,¡± his dad spat. ¡°Can¡¯t take it with you. Find a better woman.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know that I would trust anyone after what happened.¡± Hector snorted. ¡°Maybe I should just dream about women like you do.¡±

    ¡°It was something, Hector. Not just the canoodling either. I was young, the future was boundless, and life was beautiful. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I wanted to put up with the oxygen hose up my nose and needles in my arms, but every time I close my eyes I have the most wonderful experiences. It¡¯s amazing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great, dad.¡±

    ¡°What was your dream?¡±

    ¡°It was more of a nightmare, to tell the truth,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Too much negativity in your life right now. I want good things for you, Hector. Do me a favor and make sure you find your happiness.¡±

    Hector glanced away, his eyes hot. ¡°I have a great job.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Work.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t start sounding like Jennifer.¡±

    ¡°Never.¡± His dad muttered the last word as he drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 3

    Volithur climbed into the hovering transport and sat where directed. The soldiers around him ignored his existence other than to block his movements when he approached anywhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to be. He didn¡¯t quite understand his social position relative to them, but he seemed to be simultaneously higher and lower than them.

    Another of the youths taken on by the Lord General as a ward sat beside him. The brawny boy Thassily had been assigned to the fifth household as well, reporting to the marshal but without the positive note written in his file. Apparently Thassily didn¡¯t look like any recently deceased subordinates, so no unearned benefits for him. Also no mandatory name change. Maybe that balanced out in the end.

    A shout came from the front of the transport. ¡°Lock it up!¡±

    The soldier closest to the door swung it shut, placed a crossbar, and slid a pin in place. ¡°Locked up tight!¡±

    The person up front responded. ¡°Prepare for movement!¡±

    With that warning delivered, the transport shot straight upward, pushing Volithur down into his seat as if he were rocketing into space. The pressure slowly declined and then they started moving horizontally. Volithur cocked his head as far as possible and stared through the nearest window. They were moving incredibly fast through the sky, the ground racing past beneath them at speeds that put civilian aircraft to shame.

    While the wooden transport vehicle didn¡¯t look particularly aerodynamic or even airtight, it moved at a rapid pace without the slightest turbulence. The only indication of their motion was the sense of acceleration and deceleration.

    Thassily cried quietly beside him and Volithur offered the only comfort he felt capable of at the moment by pretending not to see. Instead he watched the ground blur as they approached a giant spherical shimmer in the sky. They were surrounded by other transports. All of which began to slow and then stopped to hover in front of the reflective surface of the sphere.

    When it seemed that the airspace could get no more crowded, a figure Volithur recognized appeared in the air before the sphere, suspended by nothing more substantial than willpower. Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth floated towards the sphere and its surface deformed inward into a concave slope. The transports began to creep forward behind the general.

    Slowly, the wall of the sphere moved inward like a beach ball being pressed inward along one side until it formed a cave. The cave grew larger as they entered inside, becoming a cavern that seemed every bit as large as the external dimensions of the sphere. Vehicles continued to enter through what was now a circular entrance to the dark interior.

    When the flow of transports ceased, the circle leading to the light of outside shrank upon itself into a pinprick and disappeared, leaving them in darkness relieved only by the dim lanterns of the transports around them. Volithur stared about him in awe, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening. He assumed they were teleporting elsewhere. Another planet? Another universe?

    The circle of light returned, rapidly growing in size until the shimmering skin of the sphere disappeared from sight entirely. The transport then began to move once more, first slowly as it navigated free of the pack of vehicles, then fast as before, causing the ground to blur past.

    They flew for less than an hour before slowing on approach to a small town enclosed by tall walls. Figures stationed at the various guard towers lifted into the air under their own power to scrutinize the approaching transport before dismissing it as a non-threat and sinking back to their posts. The transport stopped to hover over the grounds of a nearby palace at the center of the town, then lowered itself to touch down on a stone patio.

    The pilot called again from the front. ¡°We¡¯re down! Release the hatch!¡±

    The soldiers opened the door and began to hop down onto the ground. Volithur followed them out and turned in a large circle to take in the grounds. The palace grounds were ridiculously immense. A herd of sheep were grazing on the grass. There were several ponds where geese congregated. Warriors sparred with padded spears and wooden practice swords, on the ground and in the air. Outbuildings following the same stepped pyramid design as the main complex swarmed with activity. Meanwhile, the main pyramidal palace squatted like a giant above it all.

    The pilot hopped out of the transport and snapped his fingers. ¡°Hey, ward one and ward two, I don¡¯t have all day. I need to get you registered with the marshal before I can go off duty.¡±

    Volithur and Thassily followed the pilot towards the palace proper at a brisk march. They walked under an arch set in the outer wall of the lowest tier of the pyramid and continued inside for several minutes until they reached a square courtyard that extended several stories up, balconies on the higher tiers of the pyramid looking down onto the space. The ceiling let in light, glittering like glass as he caught sight of people all the way up there walking atop it.

    ¡°What are you doing inside the central complex, soldier?¡±

    The pilot turned on his heel and folded into a deep bow. ¡°Master Castellan, I am here on orders of the Lord General to deliver two wards into service under the Marshal.¡±

    The man who had accosted them pressed his lips together into a firm line. ¡°I of course would never countermand his orders. However, the family is hosting guests presently. The presence of soldiers and untrained wards gives a poor impression. Kindly wait in the combat school and I will inform the Marshal of your arrival.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°At your command, Master Castellan.¡± The pilot straightened up from his bow, turned on his heel, and began to march back the way they had come.

    ¡°Hold,¡± the castellan snapped, bringing the pilot to a jarring halt. ¡°Do these wards have no decorum whatsoever?¡±

    The pilot rushed back, bowed as deeply as he did briefly, and faced the two newcomers. ¡°Wards, please bow to the master and say ¡®at your command, Master Castellan¡¯.¡±

    The two of them complied after a beat, whereupon the castellan sniffed. ¡°Soldier, I would like to impress the importance of proper behavior upon these two. See to it that they are motivated.¡±

    The pilot hesitated, mouth open.

    ¡°You have an objection, soldier?¡±

    ¡°Uh, my sincere apologies, Master Castellan. These two are from the other world. They do not know our culture yet.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    The pilot sighed. ¡°I will see that they are punished for their breach of etiquette.¡±

    ¡°You should share in their punishment, soldier, for speaking out of turn.¡±

    The pilot bowed and issued another ¡®at your command¡¯ before turning to leave, this time with the wards in tow. Thassily rumbled a question as they reached the outside once more. ¡°Are we going to be punished for not knowing the rules?¡±

    ¡°One thing you need to get used to very quickly around here is that the rules are set by those above you. If you want any reprieve at all, you need to gain as much power as you possibly can.¡± The pilot sniffed. ¡°For example, I will be skipping out on my punishment because I¡¯m a level five cultivator and trained pilot. The castellan won¡¯t be pleased, but he will forget about the incident so long as he doesn¡¯t lose face in public. The two of you aren¡¯t even awakened yet. You¡¯re level zero. Everyone you see here has the power to make your life miserable. Your lives are guaranteed for a time because of your wardships, but you don¡¯t want to have enemies when that protection runs out.¡±

    Volilthur clenched his jaw. ¡°How do we get to higher levels?¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry about that. You are going to be given as much training as you can handle. If you have ambition and even a tiny bit of talent, you will be force-fed knowledge of proper technique until you want to run away.¡±

    They arrived at a smaller pyramid, this one only two tiers tall. The pilot walked up to a man cleaning a chalkboard. ¡°Clerk, I¡¯m delivering two new wards and their paperwork to you.¡±

    ¡°To me? They need to see the marshal.¡±

    ¡°A duty which I am delegating to you as the castellan forbade us entry.¡±

    The Barracks Clerk rolled his eyes. ¡°They can wait quietly in the corner.¡±

    ¡°The Castellan wants them to be punished for not knowing or showing proper decorum.¡±

    The Barracks Clerk put hands on his hips and faced the pilot. ¡°And what am I to take that to mean? Are they to be caned in public or will a stern talk suffice?¡±

    The pilot shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s your call to make now. Good luck, wards.¡±

    Left alone with the clerk, the two of them stared at the newest in a long line of strangers to hold their lives in his hands. The Barracks Clerk picked up the paperwork that had been left behind and glanced through it. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem fair to punish the two of you for being foreign. Would be bad on you if the castellan thought you got off easy, though. I¡¯ll just give you a week on septic duty. That seems cruel enough to make whatever point ought to be made.¡±

    The Barracks Clerk erased another section of blackboard and then wrote their names under a column with the heading of ¡®septic¡¯. It took Volilthur a second to recognize his new name up there. Harridan. A stranger¡¯s name that from now on would be his identity.

    ¡°The new duty rotation starts tomorrow, so don¡¯t stress it much. You will hate the work because of the smell and the humiliation, but it won¡¯t be harmful to you. Since I don¡¯t want to babysit you until the marshal comes down from his office, I¡¯m going to put you two up in a room with a cultivation manual.¡± The Barracks Clerk blinked. ¡°You two can read, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Volilthur said.

    ¡°Oh, definitely do not use that form of address unless you want to be mistaken for Jinn sympathizers. In general, if you seek to show your respect, you call someone ¡®master¡¯ followed by their job title. That would be ¡®Master Clerk¡¯ for me. Though I would be horribly embarrassed by that kind of thing. Just ¡®Clerk Anadra¡¯ is fine.¡±

    The clerk went into a library room, pulled down two roughly used books with the bindings falling apart, and tucked the two wards into a small room with a couple of tables and a tea kettle. When they were alone, they raced to sit and open the sloppily illustrated books.

    Volithur¡¯s eyes scanned the first page, taking in the three-dimensional rendering of a cube with each of the six sides labeled. One wall said ¡®mind¡¯, the one next to it ¡®body¡¯, the one beside body said ¡®aura¡¯, and the one between aura and mind said ¡®domain¡¯. The top bore the label ¡®realm¡¯ and the bottom ¡®externality¡¯. The entire image bore the simple label ¡®soul¡¯.

    He began to read through the paragraphs of text below, which explained that the human soul was a hollow cube composed of what was called, for want of a better word, willpower. The energies of existence flowed throughout the universe and even into the soul of living beings. Willpower allowed for a limited manipulation of those energies, though its effectiveness was limited so long as a soul contained impure blends of energy.

    There were descriptions on what each of the walls, or apertures, made possible, but Volithur skipped past the words and the images in search of what surely must be there. He found it several chapters further along. The method to attune a soul to a single form of energy. A method that, when successfully cultivated, would transform one from a baseline human into a Xian wielding cosmic energy.

    Volithur¡¯s heart beat rapidly as he read.

 Chapter 4

    Hector squeezed his eyes shut, struggling in vain to return himself to the dream that had just ended. He wanted to know what Volithur did with magic powers. He could see the arc of a grand revenge story, with the Lord General Asshole falling at the feet of the boy. This may be the first time he¡¯d ever experienced an episodic dream. Never before had he gone to sleep and picked up right where he left off. Maybe he would manage to do it again tonight.

    He needed to know what happened in the next part of the story. For a moment, Hector considered throwing off his morning schedule to dive back into bed in the hopes that his subconscious would return him to the narrative.

    The moment passed. His father was dying, today was cardio day, and there was nothing he could learn in a dream that didn¡¯t come from his own mind. The book would probably say something silly like ¡®concentrate really hard¡¯ or ¡®visualize what you want to happen¡¯. Or maybe even some new age chakra nonsense.

    His morning passed quickly, starting with fifty minutes on a rowing machine at the gym. Then came the hospital visit which his father only rose to consciousness briefly for to mumble incoherently before drifting into slumber once more. Then it was time for work.

    Hector entered the warehouse where he had spent most of his career and immediately discovered it was going to be a bad day. His administrative assistant informed him that they had two no-shows for work that morning, the pallet wrapper was busted again, and someone had flushed a clogged toilet until water covered the men¡¯s room floor.

    ¡°Start making calls. Get two bodies in here to help out. If no one agrees to come in, get Jared to transfer someone over from operations for the day. He owes us after we expedited that rush order last week. Remind him of that if he digs his heels in.¡± Hector stomped over to the pallet wrapper, where George and Timmy were staring at the machine.

    ¡°Someone ran into it with a forklift,¡± George announced.

    Hector studied the main body, which was tilting like the Leaning Tower. ¡°I was hoping something was stuck under the turntable.¡±

    ¡°The frame bent,¡± George observed. ¡°Then Timmy turned it on and the engine burnt out.¡±

    ¡°Right. We¡¯ll be manual wrapping until we get a fix or replacement then.¡± Hector didn¡¯t bother to berate Timmy. The man didn¡¯t intentionally cause these types of situations. He was a good worker so long as someone with more common sense than a rock was supervising him. The last thing Hector needed was another able-bodied employee calling it quits.

    Hector eyed George. ¡°I am going to need you to handle loading today.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been loading three days already! I¡¯m supposed to have a turn on packaging today!¡±

    ¡°I know, George. I need someone I can trust running this section today.¡±

    ¡°This is ridiculous. The damn kids get out of all the hard work because they can¡¯t be relied on and I get punished for doing a good job.¡±

    Hector folded his arms. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a choice.¡±

    ¡°Oh, great, a god damn Hector choice.¡±

    ¡°The toilet overflowed in the men¡¯s room. I don¡¯t know how bad it is, but it¡¯s an OSHA violation for sure. I was on my way to handle that situation after talking to you, but we can switch jobs if you want.¡±

    George squinted at him. ¡°Who do I get on my team?¡±

    ¡°You can have Timmy and Roy.¡± One hard but dumb worker and one lazy guy. It should be a balanced team, considering who they had to work with.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want Roy. Give me Suzanne.¡±

    Hector took a steadying breath. ¡°Fine. But now I have to figure out who is in charge of receiving.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all shitty jobs today,¡± George laughed, his attitude much improved after getting his way.

    He made a quick stop to the packaging section and informed Roy he was working receiving. The scrawny, heavily-pierced punk make a pair of devil horns with one hand. ¡°Rock on, boss man.¡±

    Then came the toilet problem. It was a lot of water. Enough water that you had to question if someone had made a mess intentionally. Hector used a mop to push the water towards the drains, then taped a home-made ¡®out of order¡¯ sign to the impacted stall. He filled the bucket with bleach water and did a thorough once-over of the entire floor before putting up a ¡®warning: wet floor¡¯ cone.

    Following that, he put in a service request with the facilities group to have a toilet unclogged. Alice stopped by his desk as he was wrapping that up. ¡°I have Vic coming in, but I had to tell him you would give him tomorrow off instead. If you aren¡¯t okay with that, you will have to tell him you changed your mind. Operations is sending One Arm Walt over.¡±

    The rest of the day, Hector split his time between solving problems for his people and jumping in to assist with the work. He had to reschedule his budget meeting for another day because of everything happening, but chances were the meeting wouldn¡¯t get him any more funding than senior management had earmarked for his group. The warehouse didn¡¯t make the company money. Sales and operations were the darlings of the executives, while warehouse only received attention if they failed to get everything on a truck by the deadline.

    Several times throughout the day Hector had to make trips around his territory to break up conversations that were disrupting work. ¡°This ain¡¯t a social club, ladies,¡± he would announce while snapping his fingers at the guys.

    Things were behind when the morning shift ended, which placed the evening crew in a bad mood as they knew chances were good they would be staying late. ¡°Why are we running slow on a Thursday, Hector? Did half the morning crew sleep in to score extra dream time?¡±

    ¡°There were two no-shows. I haven¡¯t heard their excuses yet. Let¡¯s just hit it hard this shift so we can get out of here at a reasonable time. I¡¯ll order pizzas as a reward for everyone in this group showing up for their assigned shifts.¡±

    The next eight hours flew by in a rush. There was less chatting than on the first shift, but he did have problems with a couple of the guys staring off into space, lost in thought. They managed to finish up before midnight. As Hector was locking up the warehouse, a younger guy named Jeremy waited for him by the time clock.

    ¡°Hey Boss, everyone was curious but no one got around to asking about your situation.¡±

    Hector didn¡¯t immediately respond. He kept a strict boundary between work and personal, so he wasn¡¯t sure what situation the guys had heard about, or ¨C more importantly ¨C how they had heard about it. Had someone discovered his dad was in the hospital again? Or was the Jennifer drama becoming public knowledge? ¡°What situation are you asking about?¡±

    ¡°Your dreams.¡±

    Hector¡¯s eyebrows shot up halfway to his hairline. ¡°My dreams? Why would you want to know about my dreams?¡±

    Jeremy snorted. ¡°Everyone is talking about their dreams. Even the news is talking about it. The whole world started having crazy dreams. I mean, when I sleep I¡¯m something called a Jinn. Not like Genie from Aladdin, like a human who can manipulate reality with legal energy. Before waking up for my shift, I was watching my dream dad design a crazy complex circuit he was going to upload his mind into. Fred is a vampire in his dreams. A freaking vampire.¡±

    The word Jinn echoed in Hector¡¯s mind. He had heard that word used very recently. Or, rather, Volilthur heard that word used. The Jinn were the enemies of the Xian. According to one random Xian soldier, the Jinn would have done worse to his ¨C no, Volithur¡¯s ¨C community if they had been the conquerors instead.

    ¡°Everyone is having these dreams?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s like watching an episode of a TV show in your head every time you go to sleep. I really don¡¯t blame the morning shift for screwing off of work. I mean, what if this only goes on for so long before the dreams stop? Waking up for work might mean you never get to live out the whole story.¡± The kid¡¯s smile widened. ¡°So what¡¯s your situation, Boss? Are you an old man working in a warehouse there, too?¡±

    Hector swallowed. In spite of all his misgivings about sharing personal information with his coworkers, he felt he owed a debt in that moment. The experience of being Volithur had been validated, and that meant more to him than he would ever have imagined possible. Standing to his full height, Hector announced his ¡®situation¡¯. ¡°I am training to be a Xian.¡±

    ¡°Dude,¡± the kid crowed, ¡°we¡¯re like mortal enemies in our dreams!¡±

 Chapter 5

    Volithur¡¯s heart beat rapidly as he began to read. There were breathing exercises to calm the mind and mental exercises to clear the mind. Then you had to expel mixed energies from your soul through one of the six apertures and replace them with pure cosmic energy. There was a chapter dedicated to using the bodily aperture, another for using the mental aperture, and a third that discussed the aura.

    The text explained that the body aperture provided the quickest and simplest method to get started, but that it required expensive resources. Volithur dismissed that method as unrealistic. He had no resources. The chapter on mental cultivation proved more realistic.

    He had to contemplate the concepts behind cosmic energy in order to gain insight into it. With that insight achieved, he could filter incoming energy to only permit the right kind to pass through his mind. The downside was that the process would be slow. Mental energy did a great job of filtering incoming energies through conceptual frameworks, but the price for the high level of purity was low intake volume.

    The third method spoke about using the aura as simply as Volithur would about using his left and right hand. Lacking any awareness of his aura, the instructions proved useless to him. Volithur flipped to the back of the book to begin reading through the appendices. There was one on common elixir recipes. Another discussed physical exercises to prepare the body for cosmic energy infusion. And the final appendix provided a series of reflections on the nature of cosmic energy for use in mental cultivation.

    ¡°Cosmic energy exists beyond heaven and earth, thought and matter, space and time, life and death. It is the child of chaos and order.¡± Reading the reflection aloud, Volilthur couldn¡¯t help but laugh. This was supposed to teach him how to use the magic of the Xian?

    ¡°Harridan, don¡¯t mock their teachings,¡± Thassily whispered.

    It took a moment for Volilthur to recognize his new name. ¡°Does it make any sense to you?¡±

    The other boy¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°It will, eventually. I am going to become powerful, Harridan, and I am going to kill the Lord General. This book will tell me how to do that.¡±

    Volilthur shook his head and continued reading the reflections. ¡®Cosmic energy feels like nothing in particular and everything at once. Every other energy is birthed from it. Every other energy feeds on it. It is eternal and self-perpetuating.¡¯¡±

    Several more entries read similarly, grandiose odes to the great and wonderful cosmic energy. It sounded like propaganda. Volithur skimmed over the reflections until one caught his eye. ¡®Cosmic energy hums like background noise you¡¯ve heard your whole life. It is hard to sense because of its ever-presence. I only managed the feat after I realized why all the descriptions are stated as contradictory couplets. Cosmic energy is complete unto itself and the only way to experience it is to split it open, whereupon it naturally forms into diametrical opposites. The challenge of the Xian, then, is to recognize the undifferentiated form and absorb it in its completeness.¡¯

    He reread that passage several times before flipping back to the chapter on mental cultivation. He needed to do the calming breaths, meditatively empty his mind, energize his mind until he felt hollow, then hold the concept of cosmic energy as he let the suction from his empty soul pull energy through the conceptual filter.

    Volithur spent close to an hour just emptying his mind only to discover he had no idea how to ¡®energize his mind¡¯. According to the text, every human could move energy from the soul out of the apertures in an instinctual action. Intentionally invoking that action had not been described at any point, leaving Volithur at a loss.

    He was saved from any further frustration by the arrival of the marshal. The clerk preceded a bear of a man into the room. ¡°On your feet, wards. Master Marshal is here to accept you into the fifth household of the Lord General.¡±

    They scrambled to their feet as the large man studied them. ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse,¡± he pronounced. ¡°The castellan wants you punished and I pick my battles with him carefully. Clerk Anadra set you to septic duty for two weeks, so that will stand. It gives me time to prepare you to join the training program. Anadra, give them a quarter vial of moon water elixir daily for one week, starting today. The two of you are to practice the bodily cultivation method to absorb cosmic energy into your soul. Your success at this will determine how generous I am with resources going forward. That is all.¡±

    The clerk gestured impatiently for their attention. ¡°Let¡¯s show proper decorum by bowing and addressing our superior, yes?¡± The three of them all bowed deeply and intoned an ¡®at your command, Master Marshal¡¯. The marshal left the room at a quick pace, grumbling to himself about useless recruits.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Is moon water a good elixir? I didn¡¯t see it listed in the book,¡± Thassily said.

    Clerk Anadra shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s garbage. Commoner children are given it to practice drawing in cosmic energy. You have to start somewhere, though.¡±

    Shortly, they each held a glass vial stoppered with a waxed cork. Volilthur read through the instructions once more on bodily cultivation and then pulled the cork and downed the liquid. Then, while his body absorbed the contents of his stomach, Volithur and Thassily ran laps around the exterior of the building, pausing at each corner to drop and perform as many push-ups as they could manage before sprinting off on the next leg of their lap.

    The physical exertion, combined with a calm mental state, would let their body borrow energy from their soul. The elixir they¡¯d consumed would saturate their body with cosmic energy that would replenish what had been borrowed from their soul.

    As the mix of energies in their souls shifted to have a larger component of cosmic energy compared to other varieties, they would become more strongly attuned to the energy they sought to master. Then their bodies and minds would become influenced by the cosmic energy, making future cultivation easier. It would create a positively reinforcing cycle of self-improvement. Over time, the energy mixture in their soul would come close to a hundred percent pure.

    Volilthur didn¡¯t stop the exercise until he felt on the verge of emptying his guts. He lay on the grass, clutching his abdomen, and tried to steady his breathing once more. It took a while for his body to return to some sort of equilibrium, and by that time he was vaguely aware of a pervasive emptiness, one that went beyond emotional exhaustion, an empty belly, and lack of purpose. It was an emptiness he would not have noticed before, but now it stood out to him as a phantom draw demanding recompense.

    Something within his body distorted, twisting free of reality to go elsewhere. The hollowness faded. The soul hunger had been sated. Volithur stared up at the sky which looked identical to that of his home world, wondering what the future entailed. He wanted his old life back so hard he would gladly sacrifice anything.

    But he had nothing to sacrifice. Even if he did, his old life was gone. Parents: dead. City: demolished. Friends: abducted. Society: defeated. Revenge sounded nice in theory. Hurt those who had hurt him. Only how could he ever achieve that? People who had been training for their entire lives weren¡¯t able to stand up to the Lord General. What chance did a nobody orphan from a powerless world stand?

    None. His best path forward was to stay out of trouble and scrounge up enough power to live a comfortable existence. Thassily could chase a self-destructive revenge fantasy if he wished. Volilthur had his feet firmly grounded in reality. He would survive.

    His thoughts drifted to the other youths who had been taken away. The ones who would become soldiers in the invading force that killed their parents. The ones who were made wards of minor officers. The ones who were taken to orphanages, presumably to be adopted by commoners. And the ones who had worse fates. He couldn¡¯t help any of them. He could help himself.

    Thassily appeared over him, a hand extended to help Volilthur up. ¡°Come on, Harridan, I heard them talking about dinner. We¡¯ll need to eat if we¡¯re going to get strong.¡±

    The two of them walked over to the barracks building and filled cheap tin bowls with hearty stew from a large tureen. The stew was packed with root vegetables, maize, mushrooms, lentils, and peppers. There were also finely diced bits of poultry throughout, and the marrow-filled thigh bone of some beast lay exposed.

    They feasted and drank mugs of water until they felt sick. The sergeant in charge of training met them and then did a quick round of introductions. So many names were spoken that Volilthur managed to retain none of them. The welcomes were friendly enough and his belly full enough that he felt something akin to contentment.

    The sergeant guided the two of them towards a tiny room with a curtain for a door and two hammocks hung one on top of the other. ¡°This is your cell. Life in the barracks isn¡¯t fancy, as you can see. Three meals are provided daily. We issue fresh uniforms each evening before lights out. You will be assigned work details, training schedules, and free time by the marshal, myself, or one of the clerks. If you have any personal items you wish to keep, we can lock them up in storage. Otherwise, there is no expectation of privacy in the barracks. Thievery is discouraged, but a company of rowdy boys are going to take and break anything they can get their hands on.¡±

    Volilthur looked down at the thin evening clothes he had been wearing when he was dragged from his house. There was brain splatter on the pants. ¡°I have nothing worth keeping, Master Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°Look at you, showing decorum,¡± the sergeant drawled. ¡°Just call me ¡®Sergeant¡¯ without any of those airs. I¡¯m not a noble nor do I pretend to be one. I¡¯m a working man the same as you two, just a few steps further along my path. The business with the castellan will blow over quick. He won¡¯t consider you worth remembering once he feels you have been properly humbled. The marshal will take good care of you so long as you don¡¯t cause trouble. Now let¡¯s get you a change of clothes and show you to the showers. You will be needing to know their location tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Hector¡¯s eyes stared at the ceiling as his alarm blared in the background. Was it real? Does Volithur really exist? The revelation that the entire world experienced the hyper-realistic dreams would have been a severe enough shock, but then he had heard the Jinn mentioned. Volithur had been told to keep quiet about training to be an electronics technician because the Jinn used electronics, then Randy had mentioned he was a Jinn in his dreams, where his dream-dad was building circuits to upload his consciousness to.

    News articles advanced every crazy theory imaginable to explain the situation, but no one knew anything. Were these dreams some kind of collective unconscious phenomenon? Did people start recollecting the lives of individuals from other universes? Was reality actually a simulation and the latest code release had exposed a weird bug?

    Hector got out of bed, stretched his back, and went about his morning routine. Friday was his alternate day of weight lifting, which he usually looked forward to. Today it took a little more effort to stay focused, though. Dumbbell butterflies, Romanian dead lifts, single-arm dumbbell rows, cable triceps extensions, and overhead presses. Not as fun as it usually was, seeing his mind remained preoccupied.

    Because one strange little idea kept popping up in his head. Why didn¡¯t he try the cultivation exercises Volithur had been doing? The fact that humans throughout the whole planet were having these dreams meant there had to be something to them. Why not test out the method of using magic that had been taught to him?

    Hector ground his teeth as he showered, changed, and drove to the hospital. He wasn¡¯t going to play act at casting magic spells like a kid with an overactive imagination. He was a fifty-two year old man with a professional career who had serious issues facing him. Retreating into fantasies might be a valid coping mechanism for some people, but that wasn¡¯t him. He would deal with life head on.

    I can¡¯t believe Volithur is just going to let the Lord General Asshole get away with the death of his parents, he thought before pushing all thoughts of dream worlds out of his head.

    His father was awake and picking at a cupcake as he entered the room.

    ¡°Dad, you¡¯re eating again?¡±

    ¡°Hey, Hector. Got to keep my strength up.¡±

    Warmth suffused Hector. ¡°That¡¯s great. How are you feeling today?¡±

    ¡°Still breathing, if just barely.¡±

    ¡°Is the cupcake any good?¡±

    His dad waved a hand dismissively. ¡°My taste buds are broke. Everything tastes wrong.¡±

    ¡°I could try to get you something else if you like.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all the same to me.¡±

    ¡°Still, we might be able to find something for you to enjoy.¡±

    ¡°I enjoy plenty, my boy. Plenty.¡± His dad smirked in such a dirty way that Hector¡¯s mind made a series of instantaneous connections.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been having fun in your dreams.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, I have.¡±

    Hector nodded. ¡°That¡¯s great, dad. Why don¡¯t you tell me about it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a young man in them. Deronto Yervol. Adopted into something called an Alfar tribe. Remember those Lord of the Rings movies? They¡¯re a little like the elves. No pointy ears or anything. Just really like living in harmony with nature. I spend all day climbing trees, gathering fruits and nuts, and hunting animals with my bare hands. Then I spend all night making love to a beautiful young woman. I have three more days to prove I can harness life energy if I want to stay with them. I can¡¯t let myself die before I know what happens to Deronto.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    He filed away the details for later analysis. ¡°What was Deronto before he became one of these Alfar?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not an Alfar yet. Just a regular human like us. On the run from a coven of Strigoi that slaughtered his village.¡±

    ¡°Strigoi?¡±

    ¡°Vampires,¡± his father clarified. ¡°That was the first dream, running from Strigoi. Lina saved me. Tackled me into a river when she saw what was going down. Took me back to her village and they gave me seven days to change into one of them.¡±

    Hector clenched his hands together in his lap. ¡°Would you care to hear about my dreams?¡±

    ¡°I showed you mine, now you show me yours,¡± his dad wheezed.

    ¡°My parents were murdered in front of me by magic soldiers, then--¡±

    ¡°Hector, that isn¡¯t the kind of dream to dwell on.¡±

    ¡°Dad, please just listen.¡±

    ¡°Go on, then.¡±

    Hector took a breath. ¡°After the bad stuff happened, I was taken with the other kids to a central location to be processed. A nobleman made me into his ward.¡±

    ¡°A rich man adopted you?¡±

    ¡°Not an adoption as such, no. I¡­ well, Volilthur, which is my name there, was more of a servant in the nobleman¡¯s fifth household. I doubt I will ever see him again. But they are teaching me to absorb cosmic energy to become something called a Xian--¡±

    His dad choked on a piece of cupcake, hacking and spluttering. As Hector fussed over him, his dad pushed away the glass of water, napkin, and hands. Finally, Terry Thoreaux got enough of his breath back to speak. ¡°You said your dream-you was a god damn Xian?¡±

    ¡°Becoming a Xian after they attacked his world and abducted him,¡± Hector corrected.

    ¡°How is that possible? The Xian are in my dream. They are a major power. Them and the Arahant and the Jinn are always at war. They go to war and the rest of us suffer for it. But how are you dreaming the same world as me?¡±

    ¡°Everyone on Earth is having dreams, dad. They started two days ago.¡±

    Something faded in Terry¡¯s eyes. ¡°Everyone? I thought it was just me.¡±

    Hector¡¯s heart clenched. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t meant to¡­ but don¡¯t you see, these dreams might be real. Your Deronto and that Lina might be real.¡±

    ¡°Might be real,¡± Terry repeated. ¡°Don¡¯t matter how it is. I want to know what happens next. Hector, I think I am in love with Lina. On the edge of eighty, glued to my death bed, and I fell in love with a character from a dream. It¡¯s so real. I can¡¯t separate what I feel from what I remember Deronto feeling. And none of that matters. I have been sliding into the jaws of death for so long, struggling just hard enough to not feel like a quitter, and now I desperately want more days so I can live in that other world.¡±

    Hector placed his hand over his father¡¯s. ¡°I understand. Volithur has had nothing but hard times since I started dreaming him, but I am still desperate to see what is next. Your guy is actually having a good time.¡±

    His dad snorted a laugh. ¡°If all that¡¯s real, maybe I should smear myself in mud and do the wild heart dance under the light of a full moon. I might unlock a life affinity.¡±

    ¡°Only if I can record video,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°We¡¯d better not, then. I don¡¯t want everyone to know the banana thing is a lie.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you enjoy the dreams, dad.¡±

    ¡°It sure has given me something to look forward to.¡±

    Hector glanced at the clock. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get to work. Enjoy spending time with Lina.¡±

    ¡°Do you still work a double shift every day?¡±

    ¡°Someone has to keep the warehouse humming along.¡±

    ¡°And no overtime for all that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a director of the company, dad. The annual bonus I get is more than one of my guys makes in overtime for a whole year.¡±

    ¡°More than they¡¯d get if they worked eighty hours every week?¡±

    Hector chose not to answer that. ¡°Sweet dreams, dad.¡±

 Chapter 7

    Volilthur vowed to skip breakfast for the next two weeks. Cleaning out the septic invoked a potent bout of nausea that mixed poorly with a full belly. Given that the stone trench beneath the palace and each of the outbuildings received daily cleaning, there had to be a considerable number of residents. The sheer amount of solid waste boggled the mind.

    Shovels and buckets and wheelbarrows made the job marginally faster than it would otherwise be, and managed to delay the amount of time it took to be completely covered in the nastiness by an hour or two. After being given a brief training, they were left to their own devices. It took three hours to clear the palace septic trough, then about forty-five minutes each for the barracks, servant house, and artisan house.

    The wheelbarrow contents were dumped in a deep pit along with agricultural waste and kitchen scraps. When they were done, a more powerful soldier caused the contents of the pit to turn on itself until thoroughly mixed, then levitated a layer of sod over top to plug the hole and limit the spread of the stench.

    The two wards found the showers, cleaned up, and grabbed fresh uniforms. They had missed lunch, but some of the bread had been set aside for them. Volilthur devoured two loaves, then accepted the tiny vial of moon water elixir from the clerk on duty.

    They set to their cultivation then, exhausting their bodies through physical training and then absorbing back the cosmic energy from within the elixir. Volilthur thought he almost felt something of the elusive cosmic energy during the experience.

    Since they still had free time, Volithur went to his hammock and attempted to practice the mind cultivation method. He managed to shift himself into a deep trance and squeeze out some soul energy into his mind, finding the process a little easier after having done something similar with his body. Holding the concept of symmetrical completeness in mind, Volithur let the emptiness of his soul draw energy back in.

    He went instantly lightheaded. Volithur fought to stay conscious for a few minutes before going out like a light.

    ¡°You coming to dinner, Harridan?¡±

    Volithur sat up in his hammock as he came awake. ¡°I¡¯ll be right out,¡± he called to Thassily. It took him a bit to get moving as he still felt a touch of dizziness following the involuntary nap. Hopefully that means I successfully did mind cultivation, he thought.

    Dinner was another stew, this one based around cabbage, potatoes, beans, pork, and enough spices to confuse and confound the senses. Volilthur loved it. The dull ache of his personal losses flared up as always when he enjoyed something, but he pushed it back down. He could find pleasure in a meal without betraying the world he came from.

    The sergeant brought out a clay jug and pulled free a waxed stopper from a spout at one end. ¡°Line up the mugs, boys. We¡¯re having a sip of spiced rum to celebrate the departure of the forty-fourth son.¡±

    Volithur and Thassily joined the line of men to accept a splash of the liquid into their mugs. They didn¡¯t seem to receive any less liquor than the other men. When everyone had something in hand, the sergeant raised his mug high in salute. ¡°To the end of our beatings on the training fields.¡±

    ¡°Aye!¡± ¡°Cheers!¡± ¡°Hurrah!¡±

    Various cheers went up and everyone took a mighty swig of the liquid. Volithur steeled himself for the worst and found himself shocked. ¡°That actually tastes good!¡± There were hints of lime and ginger alongside the smooth burn.

    Rough laughter erupted. The sergeant pointed at him. ¡°Harridan thought we were going to toast with cheap swill. Only the best barrels fall off the wagon into our worthy hands.¡±

    Everyone lined up to receive a second sip, and once more they toasted something, this time to ¡®shady brewers and sticky fingers¡¯. There was still a little left, so a third share was granted to three soldiers who had been particularly abused in training by the Lord General¡¯s forty-fourth son. The sergeant then tasked a clerk with seeing that the empty container found its way back to the brewery under the cover of night.

    Volilthur had recovered somewhat from his earlier attempts at mental cultivation, so he decided to give it another try. While in his hammock, feeling marginally more relaxed from the drinks, he brought himself into the trance and swapped out the energy in his soul for the variety filtered by his mind holding a particular concept.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    He woke the next morning with no memory of going unconscious. Volithur couldn¡¯t tell if he had drifted off to sleep due to the comfort of his swaying hammock and the booze or if he had exhausted his mental energy with the filtering method. He didn¡¯t even know that he was doing anything real with all of his attempts to cultivate. The subtle sensations could all just be his imagination responding to the power of his suggestions.

    That morning, after a brief conversation, they agreed not to eat breakfast to see if that improved the experience in the septic troughs at all. It took them half an hour to decide that it did not. Instead of having full bellies wanting to rebel at the scents, they had empty bellies gurgling in horrifying fashion as they breathed the nasty air.

    They completed the work as quickly as possible, sharing the occasional observation that the Xian were obviously full of shit if they could produce so much waste on a daily basis. When they had showered, they once more had a meal of leftover bread. Upon asking, they learned that lunch was only ever bread and water in the barracks. Clerk Anadra joked that they weren¡¯t nobles to have pampered midday meals. Volilthur kept his thoughts about the utility of microwaves to himself, mindful of being considered a Jinn sympathizer.

    An elixir and exercise session later, they had absorbed their daily ration of cosmic energy. Volithur returned to his hammock and went to work on his mental cultivation. His descent into the trance state happened quickly that time, and he pushed out energy into his mind, then formed the concept. As the soul emptiness sucked energy back into itself, Volithur felt his mental field shrink and fade like a light bulb on a dimmer switch.

    His soul stopped feeling empty just before he would have passed out and Volilthur held onto his consciousness as he reflected on the cultivation process. He knew now for sure that something was happening, but he couldn¡¯t tell how effective his efforts were. The moon water elixir was considered borderline useless, so he needed to impress the marshal with his progress and gain access to better resources.

    Once more, Volithur and Thassily shoveled human excrement all morning. They had become marginally more efficient over time and were on track to be done in time to eat lunch with the others in the barracks. Unfortunately, that hope didn¡¯t hold up to reality.

    As they were preparing to move on from the palace, the Castellan made an appearance.

    Volithur snapped into a deep bow at the sight of the sneering official. ¡°Master Castellan.¡±

    Beside him, Thassily mimicked his actions.

    ¡°You stink, wards,¡± the Castellan observed.

    ¡°Uh, yes, Master Castellan.¡± Agreement seemed the best policy to avoid further trouble.

    ¡°I had expected the two of you to be flogged, but it seems the Marshal can be inventive when he wants to be. Your decorum seems to have improved inversely to your hygiene. Do you think that the punishment is sufficient to correct your behavioral issues?¡±

    The Castellan seemed eager to exert power over them. Volithur had been subjected to the same authoritarian bullying from his father for his whole life. Though he loved his old man, the truth had been that the guy needed wins. As a young child, Volithur hadn¡¯t understood that his father¡¯s job required obsequious subservience to rich assholes and sought to switch the role he played when at home. But even without understanding the dynamic at play, he learned how to mitigate the impact on his life. Sometimes if you acted foolishly hopeful for a reprieve, the only punishment you would receive was being required to do what you were already doing.

    ¡°Yes, Master Castellan! We have learned our lesson and don¡¯t need to be on septic duty any longer!¡±

    The Castellan laughed. ¡°You think I am going to release you from your punishment early?¡±

    Volithur drooped his shoulders dramatically. ¡°We learned our lesson, Master Castellan.¡±

    ¡°Then the rest of your punishment shall reinforce it,¡± the Castellan pronounced.

    ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡± Volithur held himself still, certain he had outplayed his superior. The desire to mete out further punishment had been met. To outward appearances, the foolish youths had believed that some hard work would let them escape their extra duty early. Crushing their hope provided the Castellan a sense of power. Nothing had changed, but Volithur¡¯s bully felt satisfied. Thank you, father, for teaching me how to be sly.

    ¡°I want the pipes scoured today,¡± the Castellan said. ¡°Do you know what that entails?¡±

    ¡°No, Master Castellan.¡±

    ¡°All of the pipes in the ceiling and wall that empty into the septic need to be thoroughly cleaned on occasion to prevent clogs. The normal schedule has that happening in two months, but I want it done today. So get a sturdy stick and remove all sediment from the pipes. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡± Volithur didn¡¯t have to fake the despair in his voice.

    Their tormentor sniffed dramatically, commented once more on their stench, and left them to their punishment.

 Chapter 8

    Hector smacked his alarm clock hard enough that he worried he might have damaged it. Petty tyrants pissed him off. The bullying directed at Volithur bothered him on a professional level almost as much as it did on a personal one. The managerial philosophy that guided him at work was that he always made sure he was the hardest worker on the floor and made sure everyone under him was treated fairly. That was the most effective and the most moral way to do things.

    Using the anger as fuel, Hector changed into his running shoes and set off for his Saturday morning run. His dour mood let him power through the early pain until he hit his second wind. The frustration faded away as pavement fell behind him. His velocity slowed somewhat as he adjusted his expectations closer to reality. He still possessed the cardiovascular fitness to do a hard five miles, but his knees and hips didn¡¯t care for the impact that came along with a competitive pace. Smooth, gliding movements minimized the price he would pay for his weekly long run.

    He arrived back home a sweaty mess, showered, changed clothes, and drove to the hospital. His father slept throughout the entire visit, giving the pushy doctor another opportunity to harass Hector about hospice care. Then Hector went to work.

    Fortunately, only a single shift ran on Saturdays, so he only had to spend nine hours in the building before he could return home. The day had been a short one, yet it felt long to Hector. He had dreamed of multiple days of Volithur¡¯s life in a single night and the subjective experience made it seem like Hector had been hard at work for far longer than a single shift.

    On his way home, he stopped by the grocery store to restock his pantry, preparing for his Sunday tradition of meal prepping for the entire next week. For the first meal set he bought chicken planks, broccoli, and brown rice. For the second he grabbed noodles, diced onion, ground beef, and spaghetti sauce. Then he stocked up on frozen mixed berries, spinach, and unsweetened almond milk for his daily smoothie. A few cans of tuna and a bag of apples for healthy snacks.

    Hector was mentally preparing to do a second hospital trip as he pulled into his driveway and didn¡¯t notice the dilapidated minivan until he almost ran into it. He didn¡¯t recognize the vehicle, so before he unloaded the groceries he walked around to scope out its interior, trying to ascertain who had parked on his property. With no immediate answers in sight, Hector hefted the bags from the store and walked to the front door.

    Which he discovered was not locked. Hector set down his groceries and looked around for a weapon of some sort. Nothing looked promising, so he decided to take a look inside. When the doorknob turned under his hand, it must have made more noise than he realized, because there was suddenly a chorus of barking from within his house.

    What the hell? Hector did not have a dog. Not since Butch passed away three years prior.

    Yanking the door open revealed a sight that caused the floor of Hector¡¯s stomach to drop. Three dogs of mismatched sizes and appearances were running in circles before the door as his estranged wife approached wearing a tight t-shirt and short shorts beneath a cooking apron that had Mr. T¡¯s angry mug below the words ¡®I pity the food¡¯.

    ¡°Hey honey, I¡¯m home,¡± Jennifer sang, big smile on her face.

    I would rather be dreaming about shoveling shit, Hector thought. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    Jennifer didn¡¯t show any sign that his words bothered her. ¡°Dinner is almost ready. It¡¯s your favorite. Stuffed pork chops.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t live here anymore, Jennifer.¡±

    ¡°I moved back in,¡± she said.

    ¡°That¡¯s not how this works. We¡¯re separated.¡±

    Jennifer¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waiver. ¡°Both our names are on the title. Anyway, meet the newest members of our family. This is Buster, Maggie, and Jasmine.¡±

    Hector held the door open. ¡°Please leave.¡±

    ¡°I told you. I moved back in. Come inside and get ready for dinner.¡± Jennifer returned to the kitchen, leaving him standing in front of three curious dogs. One of them moved to sneak past him to the great outdoors and Hector blocked the escape attempt. He seized the groceries and stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.

    The largest of the dogs, a mutt with some degree of retriever in its pedigree, sniffed him while its tail went wild, then forced its head beneath his hand while whining a demand for petting. Hector sighed and patted the dog, which encouraged the other two to seek his affection.

    He managed to get past them within five minutes and began unloading his groceries in the kitchen. ¡°I don¡¯t want you here,¡± he said.

    ¡°What do you think of the dogs?¡±

    ¡°Jennifer. I don¡¯t want you here.¡±

    ¡°I can sleep in the spare room to start with.¡±

    Hector glared at his wife, who avoided eye contact as she burned the pork chops. She had never been very skilled in the kitchen. ¡°Did your latest boyfriend kick you out?¡±

    ¡°I had my own apartment,¡± she said.

    ¡°Then go there.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Can¡¯t. They don¡¯t allow pets.¡±

    Hector jumped as a canine nose rammed into his rear. He absently reached down to pet the offending animal. ¡°And in spite of that you suddenly have three dogs?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re from a kill shelter, Hector. Look at them. Do you want them to die?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re talking about you finding an excuse to show up out of the blue.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not excuses, they¡¯re my babies.¡± As Jennifer went to her knees, a rush of four-legged beasts swarmed past Hector, racing to surround their adoptive mother. ¡°Remember how much you loved Butch? Don¡¯t you want another chance at that kind of relationship?¡±

    Hector folded his arms. ¡°What do I need to do to get you out of here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying, Hector. It¡¯s my house, too.¡±

    ¡°I will pay for an apartment that allows pets.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    Jennifer hugged the retriever mix as she looked up at him with large eyes. ¡°I want to get back together.¡±

    ¡°Did you already screw every available man in the city? It didn¡¯t take long.¡±

    Her cheerful demeanor cracked. ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡±

    ¡°Fair or not, it¡¯s true. You cheated on me, Jennifer.¡±

    ¡°We were separated.¡±

    ¡°I think we both know it started before you moved out.¡±

    ¡°I never cheated on you.¡±

    ¡°Based on how fast you lined up the next guy, I find that hard to believe.¡±

    ¡°Guys on the dating apps liked what they saw in me.¡±

    Hector looked down on her. ¡°Then why don¡¯t you find one of them to take your dogs in?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any of those guys. I¡¯ve been telling you for weeks that I want to try again.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m just supposed to forgive you for running out and screwing half the town?¡±

    Jennifer pointed at him. ¡°You told me to leave.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how I remember it.¡±

    ¡°You were working eighty hours a week, then coming home miserable and yelling at me for not keeping a clean house.¡± Hector wanted to interject that he had been upset not that she didn¡¯t clean the house, but that she constantly made messes throughout the house that he then had to clean up. He didn¡¯t get the chance as Jennifer raised her voice to preempt his interruption. ¡°I said you needed to work fewer hours so we could spend time together as a couple and you started yelling that I either had to put up with the situation or get out of the situation. You weren¡¯t going to change and I was very unhappy. So I took your advice and I left, Hector. You told me to do it.¡±

    Hector glared. ¡°If it was so bad, then why are you trying to come back?¡±

    ¡°Because I still love you, you idiot.¡±

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t stand the sight of you.¡±

    Jennifer looked away from him. ¡°What kind of dream did you get? I could see you being a Jinn. They upload their minds into machines, you know. I bet they love getting rid of all the human pieces so they can work more hours at the warehouse.¡±

    The question came out of nowhere, and because of that Hector saw it as the obvious attempt to change the topic that it was. Jennifer had always been good at steering conversations. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern. Our relationship ended four months ago. I don¡¯t want you around.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying anyway.¡±

    ¡°That just gives me something else to despise you for.¡±

    Jennifer held tighter onto the dogs surrounding her. ¡°Justice is a wolf kin.¡±

    ¡°What does justice have to do with anything?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a name,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°Her name. The other me. The girl whose life I dream at night. She is wild and fearless and lives for her pack.¡±

    Hector tried to ignore the tantalizing lead buried in her words, but in the end his curiosity demanded answers. ¡°What is a wolf kin?¡±

    ¡°A type of Alfar. Only instead of embracing the life energy of an entire ecosystem, they fixate on a particular species. For Justice, it is wolves. She adopted an abandoned wolf pup as a child, one she named Runt. Her family didn¡¯t mind a pet. Alfar don¡¯t hide from nature behind walls and roofs. They embrace it by living beneath the sun and the stars, among the trees, alongside the animals.

    ¡°Justice became too close to Runt as they grew. Her family disapproved and chased off the wolf pup. So Justice left home to be with her animal companion. She embraced the way of the wolf and her body changed to be more like them. Runt grew large, attracted a mate, and started a pack. Justice led them all. She never once missed her family, Hector. They became dead to her the moment they turned on her companion.¡±

    Jennifer buried her face in the fur of the retriever to breath in the musk that had already begun to permeate the house. ¡°She¡¯s a lot like me. I left home at a young age and I have never regretted that decision. I do regret leaving you behind. We had a lot of problems, Hector, but nothing we couldn¡¯t fix if we actually tried.¡±

    Hector looked at the woman and dogs and burning meat and threw up his hands. ¡°Damn it, Jen, a werewolf is possibly the only thing I want less as a roommate than you.¡±

    Hearing the shortened form of her name, Jennifer¡¯s wilted form straightened. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be a wolf kin, Hector. There aren¡¯t any wolves around here and I don¡¯t think I¡¯m quite that wild.¡± She picked up the smallest of the three pets, a miniature collie with the hazy eyes of an elderly animal, and kissed it on the head. ¡°I¡¯m going to be a dog kin. And these three are the start of my pack.¡±

    Hector repeated the words, numb. ¡°The start of your pack. How many dogs are you planning to bring into my home?¡±

    ¡°All of them from kill shelters, Hector. Don¡¯t think about how many dogs will be in your house. Think of how many lives are being saved.¡±

    Smoke began to pour off of the remains of the pork chops, setting the kitchen fire alarm off. Hector considered that an omen for things to come.

 Chapter 9

    Volithur discovered a deep loathing of the Castellan as he scoured the pipes. The task, it turned out, could not be conducted in a dignified manner. Standing beneath clay pipes as you stabbed at obstructions with a piece of wood proved just as hazardous as it sounded. Hair, ear canals, even nostrils were soon defiled by filth.

    They barely finished the job in time for dinner. Volithur showered extra thoroughly, ate, consumed his elixir, and took to his hammock for a session of mental cultivation. As always, it drained him until he was barely conscious. He let the drowsiness take him under.

    The next several days, fortunately, they did not have to repeat their work on the pipes. The Castellan appeared to have forgotten about their existence after ensuring they were sufficiently miserable. That let them return to the schedule of their first few days.

    A small breakfast, half a day on septic duty, a shower, lunch leftovers, exercise, consuming an elixir, eating dinner, and then mental cultivation to end the day. It wasn¡¯t exactly an enjoyable schedule, but its regularity and mundane annoyances served to insulate Volithur and Thassily from the moments of grief that would otherwise have overwhelmed them.

    While on their own, they would complain about every perceived injustice sent their way, even something as minor as being forbidden to freeload off the mug of rum three of their fellow trainees pooled their meager funds to buy. They also mimicked the behaviors of the Sergeant and other soldiers with distinctive personalities. They even, on occasion, remarked on the appearance of several of the women whose paths they crossed as they went about their duties.

    When their moods were particularly good, they would reminisce about things they missed from their home world. Electric lighting, chocolate milkshakes, giant soft pretzels from the mall, a television program called ¡®Space Adventures¡¯ they both watched each evening. Though they had gone to different schools, they had lived in essentially the same area and found their tastes in most things nearly identical.

    At times when they felt more fragile, they avoided talk of home to focus on grandiose fantasies of their futures. Cultivating to the cusp of godhood like the Xian nobility, which would let them get revenge on everyone who had ever wronged them, become obscenely wealthy, and draw the attentions of beautiful women.

    Volithur soon considered Thassily to be his closest friend. Perhaps that distinction mattered less than it once might have, considering all his old friends were dead or scattered, but in Volithur¡¯s mind it carried great weight.

    Other friendships were slower to form. They were treated fairly by the soldiers, but no one seemed interested in forging deeper relationships. Maybe because they were foreigners. Maybe because they were the youngest there. Maybe because as wards they might elect to leave the group after coming of age. Or maybe because they stank in spite of their best efforts each day to scrub away the filth.

    The days rushed by. Soon their first week ended and they stopped receiving the moon water elixir. The Marshal came over from the palace on their eighth day to check on their progress.

    The overbearing man squinted at each of them in turn, then pointed at Thassily. ¡°You¡¯ve done good enough. I¡¯ll let you have a full vial of tea powder elixir tomorrow. If you impress me with your ability to absorb its potency, I will let you have a vial at the start of every month.¡± The Marshal scrunched up his face while studying Volithur. ¡°I¡¯m afraid your potential isn¡¯t good enough for me to waste elixirs on you. You will be able to train with us and make some amount of progress before you come of age. At that time, it is customary to offer wards the opportunity to join a household in a staff position. You are unlikely to become a soldier, but if you work hard I will recommend you as a groundskeeper or something like that.¡±

    Following the bad news at the end of their first week, nothing much changed for Volithur. His fantasies of greatness faded away, but he had never actually believed he had a real chance of becoming as powerful as one of the nobles. He was the son of a landscaper lucky enough to have a wealthy client list. Being employed as a groundskeeper in the fifth household could be considered taking up the family business in a sense. Volithur was never going to be a powerful person in his old life. His new life didn¡¯t seem designed to propel him to great heights and he lacked the wealth that the nobles spent on growing their strength.

    Initially, Volithur intended to give up on the mental cultivation since it seemed unlikely for the laborious practice to help his future, but he found himself struggling to sleep on that first night. Visions of his parents¡¯ heads exploding haunted him in the quiet. So he went ahead with the exercise and found himself easily drifting into slumber.

    Thassily, though trying not to brag, had no one else to confide his successes in. So Volithur heard quite a bit about the impact of the tea powder elixir. It was ten times as potent as the moon water elixir, brewed from leaves that had grown on the Xian home world and been transported to the fifth estate.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    That had been a bit of news to both of them. The third, fourth, and fifth households were not on the Xian home world. Apparently, just breathing the air and eating the food of the home world allowed people to cultivate cosmic energy at a rate that could only be matched here by generous use of elixirs and cosmic chambers. The world they now called home ¨C named New Mart ¨C had been conquered three hundred years prior, the Xian slaughtering the unempowered locals with ease until no one dared oppose the invaders.

    The elixir allowed Thassily to continuously exercise to a level he had never been able to before, pushing energy out from his soul to allow his body to exert itself, then automatically drawing the elixir¡¯s cosmic energy into his soul. The cycle continued for hours, like breathing in and out, Thassily growing stronger all the while. When he finally dropped from exhaustion, he had felt a connection to cosmic energy like he never had before.

    Volithur did his best to be happy for his friend¡¯s good fortune and concentrated on counting down the days remaining on septic duty. Their training would soon begin, and while it might not be relevant since he didn¡¯t have the bodily cultivation skills to become a soldier, he was looking forward to learning some of the superhuman abilities of the Xian.

    Finally, their final day of punishment arrived. They completed the duty once last time, showered, and reported to the Barracks Clerk. Clerk Anadra was on duty and pointed to the chalkboard. ¡°For the next week, Harridan is on mop duty here in the barracks and Thassily is making laundry deliveries. Those duties are to be done as you have time, but always before the start of dinner.

    ¡°Both of you need to report to the training fields after breakfast for morning movement training and weaponless combat. Immediately following lunch you have a conditioning session. If you want to make the most of your time here, make sure you cultivate during any spare time.¡±

    The next morning they lined up on the main training field with the other soldiers and recruits, from those with the most seniority on the right and those with the least on the left. Volithur found himself dead last, judged ever so slightly inferior to Thassily. Facing the line was the Sergeant, Instructor Lisbet, and Instructor Gordo.

    After standing at attention and being given a quick rundown by the Sergeant of events happening that day, command was turned over to Instructor Lisbet. The middle-aged woman led the group through their morning movement training. It began with a series of gentle movements; twists and turns and bends that limbered up the joints and lengthened the muscles. The pace gradually picked up until they were flowing through positions that proved somewhat challenging from both a flexibility and a strength perspective.

    They did about half an hour of that before switching to balance exercises. Standing on a single foot while bending in various directions. Thassily and Volithur laughed at their inability to do more than hop about and fall down until the Sergeant marched over to shout in their faces. After that incident, they took the balance exercises very seriously. They still failed each and every one.

    Then came the ¡®inverted balances¡¯, which began with headstands before progressing to handstands. Planks, side planks, neck bridges¡­ it never seemed to end. Either there were a never-ending number of exercises performed regularly by the Xian soldiers or Instructor Lisbet was an insane woman who took inspiration from gymnasts.

    When the exercises finally ended, the assembled were separated into three groups. The advanced group, composed of professional soldiers, went off with the Sergeant. The intermediate group, a mixture of promising recruits and some militia members from the city outside the household grounds, went with Instructor Lisbet. That left the beginner group with Instructor Gordo.

    The beginners were mostly militia members, with Thassily and Volilthur, plus three recruits slightly older than them. The recruits lived in the barracks with them and the soldiers, but the militia members only came onto the palace grounds to train on the fields before leaving again. They were civilians with normal jobs who came once a week to train as auxiliary forces.

    A bored Instructor Gordo eyed the group for a few moments. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get started with some standing striking work. No domain use. If you are paired up with the newest two guys, no aura either. They are wards of the Lord General, currently unempowered, so don¡¯t act cute unless you are eager to pay compensation for their injuries. Basic fist offense and defense drill to start, concentrate on your footwork and angles. Jabs, crosses, slips, bobs, and fades. Pair up and get to work.¡±

    The instructor then pulled Volithur and Thassily to the side and showed them how to throw a punch, how to avoid taking a hit, and how to move their feet. Then they were walked through the drill, which involved one person throwing any three punches at any tempo they desired while their training partner avoided those punches to the best of their ability. Once the third strike was thrown, the attacker and defender roles swapped so that the other person would throw three strikes.

    Instructor Gordo emphasized that they should mix up their rhythm so that they were training reading an opponent and reacting instead of just choreographing a performance. He wanted them to land real strikes on each other ¨C without putting any significant force behind their blows. The two of them stood across from each other and traded robotic strikes while Instructor Gordo berated them for not circling, for standing too tall, for letting their guards fall, for keeping too steady of a tempo, for basically every thing they possibly could do wrong or forget to do.

    Once Volithur was beginning to feel lightheaded, Instructor Gordo called for a quick break. Everyone hydrated from a water barrel before being paired up with a different training partner than last time. There was a good bit of shuffling around before Volithur found himself in front of a short, built man with a crooked nose, missing teeth, and an expression equal parts dull and malignant.

    His misgivings proved prescient as the instant that Instructor Gordo called for the round to begin, a calloused fist launched directly towards his face.

 Chapter 10

    Jerking awake. Hands tangling in sheets as they struggled to protect his face. Alarm blaring. Gasping for air. Confusion. Hector turned off his alarm and collapsed back onto his bed, trying to calm his panic. He had to make himself believe that no one had attacked him. That was Volithur¡¯s life. Though the moment he returned to sleep, he would get to feel the aftermath of that incoming fist.

    He sighed as he stared at his ceiling. Sometimes it felt like only bad things came Volithur¡¯s way.

    The door to his room banged open to admit a four-legged intruder who jumped onto the bed and began to lick Hector¡¯s face. ¡°Bad things happen to me, too, come to think of it.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Jennifer and the other two dogs entered his room.

    ¡°I thought you were going to stay out of my way,¡± Hector said.

    Jennifer gestured to the door. ¡°I¡¯m not blocking your path.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got things to do¡­.¡±

    ¡°No you don¡¯t. Sunday is when you do laundry and prep meals. A Jinn personality like you doesn¡¯t deviate from your schedule.¡±

    Hector pushed the dog away from his face. ¡°My father¡¯s in the hospital, so that¡¯s happening.¡±

    Jennifer winced. ¡°How is he doing?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dying.¡±

    ¡°I dropped by to see him last month. He was polite about it, but I got the impression he didn¡¯t want me there. I bet you told him I cheated on you, like you told all my friends.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still technically married, Jen, so anyone you slept with was infidelity. Having a different mailing address doesn¡¯t change facts.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just trying to be difficult,¡± Jennifer said.

    Hector swung his feet over the side of the bed, which brought the retriever mix over to stand directly in his way in a bid for attention. He patted the guy¡¯s head. ¡°This one is Buster?¡±

    ¡°Hey, you remembered!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s my favorite,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Hector Thoreaux, you cannot play favorites with your children.¡±

    He nodded to the slobbery pit bull his bed currently alternating between sniffing and licking the back of his head. ¡°Jasmine does too much kissing. And I¡¯m pretty sure Maggie is blind.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s only partially blind. And how could someone abandon a dog at the end of its life like that? She lives with people her whole life, then they get rid of her when she becomes a burden.¡±

    Hector changed into his street clothes in the bathroom, then emerged to find Jennifer hauling the laundry basket down the hall. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s laundry day,¡± she replied.

    ¡°I can do my own laundry.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡±

    Hector¡¯s brow drew down. ¡°Doing domestic work isn¡¯t going to change my mind about us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m living here again, so I¡¯m going to help out.¡±

    ¡°Do not cook any of the food I bought.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°I can make spaghetti, Hector.¡±

    ¡°You burn everything, Jen. Don¡¯t touch my food.¡±

    ¡°Go see your dad. Tell him I said hi.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch my food, Jen.¡±

    ¡°See you in a bit, Hector.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡±

    Jen continued her trip with the laundry basket, so Hector detoured to the fridge, where he hid the ground beef and chicken planks in a plastic bag. Necessary defensive moves taken, Hector drove to the hospital.

    He discovered his father in the midst of being checked over by nurses when he pushed open the closed door. Terry Thoreaux waved to him as he entered. ¡°Come on in, make it a party. These ladies like to check out every inch of my body.¡±

    The nurse snorted. ¡°Only cause they pay me, Terry.¡±

    ¡°I take back everything bad I ever said about American healthcare.¡±

    She pulled his covers back over him. ¡°Want more apple juice sent up?¡±

    ¡°Please.¡±

    As the nurse left, Hector took his usual seat. ¡°How are the dreams lately?¡±

    ¡°Deronto became an Alfar. He¡¯s not with Lina any more, but life goes on.¡±

    ¡°What happened to Lina?¡±

    His dad scratched his head. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not something I approve of. Deronto isn¡¯t me, right? He lost interest in his lady after she put on some weight. She had an injured shoulder and limited her activity for a while in the village. Ate a bit more than normal. Deronto started noticing how Lina¡¯s cousin Ira was the more attractive of the two. So he bungled up the whole situation and neither of the women care for him anymore.¡±

    ¡°He sure lost interest fast. It¡¯s only been a few days since we last spoke. How long was that in dream time? A few weeks?¡±

    ¡°Three years,¡± Terry said. ¡°Feels like I lived them years, too. Deronto is tending a sacred grove with some religious order. He hasn¡¯t caught the faith, but he is gaining insights being around the trees. They came from the Alfar home world. They are changing the energy of the planet to be more in line with life. Some sort of Arahant project, spreading the Alfar around to new universes. No one really understands what the great races get up to, other than fighting each other.¡±

    ¡°The great races?¡±

    ¡°Arahant and Jinn and Xian. Your Xian are the worst of the bunch. They war for the fun of it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, my dream guy isn¡¯t doing so well among the Xian. They won¡¯t give him any resources to cultivate, so he is basically doomed to become a groundskeeper. I don¡¯t even think he can call himself a Xian until his soul attunes to cosmic energy. Which might be never.¡±

    His dad nodded along, obviously not paying any attention. ¡°I think I can do what Deronto is doing, Hector. The insights he gained¡­ they passed straight on to me. Our world doesn¡¯t have a lot of life energy, but I can feel a bit of it on the air. Even my body, such as it is, has some life energy. I want to try getting my hands on a plant and doing an aura extraction on it. Would you buy me some flowers from the gift store? Don¡¯t care what they look like, just make sure they are the freshest they have.¡±

    Hector stood and took a single step towards the door before glancing back. ¡°This aura extraction method. Does it only work on plants?¡±

    ¡°It works on anything living.¡±

    He came back to the side of the bed and held out his hand. ¡°Then take some of mine.¡±

    Terry stared up at him. ¡°That¡¯s how an Alfar becomes a Strigoi, boy. Draining the life of other humans is dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Anything you pull out, I¡¯ll replace from my soul. I¡¯m sure I can do that much. Maybe I can even refill my soul through mental cultivation. Volithur figured out how to do that much.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to have life energy drawn out of you.¡±

    ¡°I can handle it, dad.¡±

    ¡°Also dangerous to attune to human life energy. I¡¯d rather steal from gift shop flowers.¡±

    Hector nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in two minutes.¡± He was gone closer to fifteen, but it hardly mattered because his father was once more asleep when he returned. Hector placed the flowers within arms reach and settled in to wait.

    He had claimed that he could use the mental cultivation method that Volithur had learned. Was that actually true? Did those detailed memories actually provide the skill he would need?

    Hector, for the first time ever in his life, felt for his soul. There were differences to what he recalled from his dreams, but they weren¡¯t significant enough to impact the outcome. Hector squeezed out a stream of energy into his mind, felt his mental faculties sharpen in response, and then locked a concept into place of the symmetrically complete cosmic energy, wedging that concept firmly into place at the point where his mind met the aperture of his soul.

    The empty feeling came and ¨C

 Chapter 11

    Volithur¡¯s nose crunched under the fist and he fell back onto his rear. His vision cleared just in time to witness Instructor Gordo¡¯s cupped hand make contact with the smirking brawler¡¯s ear. Volithur¡¯s assailant stumbled and fell to his knees. Instructor Gordo executed a rapid kick, slamming the bone of his shin directly into the downed man¡¯s temple.

    As the man finished collapsing, Instructor Gordo lifted Volithur back to his feet and poked at his nose. ¡°Not broke. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°What about him?¡±

    Instructor Gordo glanced down at Volithur¡¯s unconscious training partner. ¡°He¡¯s a foul tempered simpleton. I could have him removed from the militia, but I like the idea of him being on the front lines if the monsters invade here.¡±

    Volithur felt at his nose, which seemed to be swelling. ¡°Monsters? You mean the Jinn?¡±

    ¡°Ha! The Jinn are human. If not for their mastery of machines, they wouldn¡¯t be able to compete with us on the unempowered worlds. The monsters are nightmares come to life. They wiped out the Orisha and Titans. Killed every last human on Aes.¡±

    ¡°Are they coming here?¡±

    Instructor Gordo clapped Volithur on the shoulder. ¡°Only if they¡¯re stupid. A world full of Xian, even weak Xian, is not a target of opportunity. I¡¯m going to show you some footwork drills that you can practice for the rest of class.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Volithur set to work practicing stepping forward, back, left, right, diagonally each direction, and circling left and right. The instructor would yell at him from time to time, typically for dropping his hands, standing too tall, or using a repetitive pattern.

    That class ended after about two hours and they were released to ¡®personal development time¡¯. A helpful suggestion was made that if anyone had a work detail that needed done, this would be a great time to handle it. Based on that advice, Volithur found the cleaning supplies and began to clean the floors of the public spaces in the barracks.

    He finished in time for lunch, enjoyed the fresh baked bread, and then went to the conditioning training, where he threw up the contents of his stomach in its entirety. Between the running, the push-ups, the pull-ups, the sit-ups, the weighted carries, and the box jumps, Volithur¡¯s body rebelled. First he could barely catch his breath, then he began to feel numb in his extremities, then the vomit happened. At each turn, the Sergeant or one of the two instructors would be there to scream in his face until he continued on with the exercises.

    It truly felt like a form of torture. When it ended, they were made to stand in line and perform breathing exercises. At some point, Volithur fainted and was blessedly allowed to lay unconscious until his body restored itself enough for him to function.

    He ate dinner, got a shower, and performed his mental cultivation ritual to drift into sleep.

    Early the next morning he was brought awake by pain everywhere. There was a dull ache that surrounded his tender nose, but that paled in comparison to a body that felt damaged beyond any hope of ever returning to normal. Even laying motionless hurt. He climbed out of his hammock and ¨C

 Chapter 12

    Hector woke to hands shaking him awake. He sat up as the nurse who had performed the checkup on his father earlier leaned over him. She jerked back as he began to move. ¡°You were out cold!¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Hector said. ¡°I haven¡¯t been sleeping very good lately.¡±

    The nurse nodded. ¡°Easy to understand, with your father¡¯s state. Or is it¡­ dream stuff?¡±

    ¡°Both. Plus a situation with my wife. There¡¯s a lot going on.¡±

    At that moment, Terry revealed that he was awake as well. ¡°Wife? What about her?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two alone now,¡± the nurse muttered on her way out.

    Hector turned his attention to his father. ¡°Jen surprised me and moved back in. I asked her to leave, but she doesn¡¯t want to and I legally can¡¯t make her.¡±

    ¡°So she¡¯s Jen again.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Ever since she left you¡¯ve used Jennifer. Very formal. Three syllables. Now it¡¯s Jen.¡±

    ¡°I am not getting back together with her, dad. She¡¯s dreaming a wolf kin woman and brought three rescue dogs home. I¡¯m not sure how that kin thing works, but it sounds like she might start growing fur at some point.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°She might. Fur, claws, snout, any of it is possible. Depends how far they want to push it. Be careful, son. She could turn into a beast.¡±

    ¡°And I could turn into an all-powerful Xian.¡± Hector didn¡¯t think he¡¯d made any noticeable change to his soul after a single mental cultivation session, but his first effort had caused the same side effect as when Volithur did it. He had cultivated in the real world.

    ¡°It¡¯s all possible, Hector. Look.¡± Terry¡¯s fingers brushed the bouquet of decaying flowers on the hospital table pushed up next to him. They had been freshly cut flowers before Hector went unconscious. ¡°Bring fruits, nuts, and seeds tomorrow. Stuff that can grow.¡±

    Hector quickly agreed to pick some things up while he did some mental calculations. He had only been out for around an hour. Though he felt tired, it wasn¡¯t the overwhelming exhaustion that afflicted Volithur after mental cultivation. Did that mean Hector had better mental recovery speed? Or had he simply not done as much work to exhaust himself as Volithur did in his sessions?

    Memories of the conditioning session that had wrecked Volithur surfaced. Hector could not only have kept up with a similar workout, he would have been ready to go again the next morning. His heart fluttered. Was he possibly better suited to train in cultivation than the boy whose life he lived out through his dreams? He might be fifty-two years old, but fitness had been a lifelong passion. And if reading for extended periods of time drained his mental energy as much as it did Volithur¡¯s, he would be completely unable to manage the demands of his job.

    ¡°You know,¡± his dad said, ¡°I¡¯m already deviating from the Alfar ways by taking life energy like this. It¡¯s supposed to be a giving and a taking, an equal exchange where all parties benefit. I¡¯m just taking. That¡¯s the path of the Ogre.¡±

    Hector¡¯s thoughts went to the Shrek movies. ¡°Ogres are a real thing?¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re believing our dreams are factual, which I guess we are, then Ogres are a very real thing. They run around like brutes, devouring life energy to sate their never-ending hunger. They grow big and strong and heal anything less than a decapitation in a couple of hours. But I can¡¯t exactly spend a couple of years communing with nature, now can I?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t stress about killing a few plants, dad. The logging industry has you beat by a long shot. So fruits and seeds for tomorrow?¡± Hector found a smile on his face as the realization that his father intended to fight the cancer settled in. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t work, but there was at least hope. They weren¡¯t just waiting for him to expire.

    ¡°Seeds for planting. Nothing that has been roasted or baked.¡± Terry turned his eyes to the dead flowers. ¡°And don¡¯t get involved with your wolf kin wife. The kin leave their humanity behind to become animals.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Technically, I think Jen is going to be a dog kin. It doesn¡¯t matter, though. I¡¯m not getting back together with her as a human or as some kind of weird mutant.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t get sucked back in.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Hector promised. ¡°Sweet dreams.¡±

    The drive home did not last long enough. With a sense of dread, Hector entered through the front door of his house. The dogs rushed him, demanding pets and scratches. When he had satisfied them enough, he made his way to the kitchen, where Jen stood over the sink scrubbing a skillet caked with burnt food remnants. Plastic containers sat in a row, steam rising from a base of noodles with a pile of meat on top. A room temperature jar of spaghetti sauce sat off to the side, still unopened.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t open the jar?¡±

    ¡°It tastes the same when you add it at the end anyway,¡± Jennifer said.

    ¡°If I were to itemize all the things you did wrong, I would start by noting that you didn¡¯t put the onions I specifically bought for this purpose in with the ground beef. Then I would observe that you let the meat burn. And I would definitely dispute your claim that the order the sauce is added doesn¡¯t matter. Of course, all of this could have been avoided if you hadn¡¯t done what I asked you not to.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you cared that much, you should have hidden the beef better. I just saved you an hour of work. Two hours, counting the laundry.¡±

    Hector popped the lid off of the spaghetti sauce and dumped it into the containers. ¡°The only credit I am willing to give you is for going against my explicitly stated wishes.¡±

    ¡°Technically, that would be a debit.¡±

    ¡°Oh, look at you, finally using your accounting degree,¡± he sniped.

    ¡°Did I tell you that I applied for a receptionist job at a vet¡¯s office?¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a job that doesn¡¯t pay well,¡± Hector said. ¡°I see why you decided to freeload off of me. Free housing and free food, right?¡±

    Jennifer spun around, flinging water from the sponge in her hand with the motion. ¡°When have I ever cared about money, Hector? Did I ask for handouts even once when we were separated?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still separated, Jen.¡±

    ¡°I never asked for money. I didn¡¯t file for divorce to take half. I didn¡¯t want alimony to keep up my lifestyle. I¡¯m comfortable living within my means.¡±

    ¡°Yet you are here instead of your apartment.¡±

    ¡°I was kicked out the first day I had the dogs. There¡¯s a strict no pet policy.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a great life decision.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who is all about money. Our marriage fell apart because I wanted your time and you never thought spending time with me was a good investment. Eighty hours a week for your bosses, no problem. An hour a day at the gym, easy. But one evening a week for just the two of us was ¡®unrealistic¡¯.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re not after my money and you don¡¯t like how I treated you, why are you back?¡±

    Jennifer lifted her chin defiantly. ¡°Because I never fought for our relationship. I made hints and you ignored them. I begged and you waved me off. I tried reasoning with you and you talked circles around me. A dramatic walkout obviously didn¡¯t work either, because you never asked me to come back.¡±

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have had to! We swore oaths to each other! Oaths that you broke!¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t living up to your oaths for years before I left, Hector. We lived in the same house, saw each other in passing, and had sex on Sundays because that fit your schedule.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so terrible, yet you¡¯re still here in my house.¡±

    Jennifer snorted. ¡°I¡¯m the hypocrite here?¡±

    ¡°You most certainly are.¡±

    ¡°If the two of us are so over, why haven¡¯t you moved on, Hector? Where¡¯s my replacement?¡± Jennifer looked about the room in confusion. ¡°She must be real good at hiding because I have been here a full day already and not seen her once.¡±

    ¡°After the way things went down with us, why would I want to open myself up to anyone?¡±

    ¡°Because that¡¯s what humans do when they¡¯re lonely. Or at least normal humans. Who knows with Jinn types like you.¡±

    Hector slammed his fist down onto the table, causing a plastic bin of spaghetti to topple onto the floor. Dogs swarmed past his legs to get at the mess. ¡°Stop calling me a Jinn,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me you¡¯re not a ¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a Xian.¡± Hector drew himself up to his full height. ¡°I¡¯m not talking about the guy in my dreams, either. Hector Thoreaux is cultivating cosmic energy. I am going to wring every bit of knowledge from my dreams to become a cultivator.¡±

    Jennifer stared at him a moment, frozen in shock. Finally, she turned her attention to the dogs. ¡°I don¡¯t think dogs are supposed to eat spaghetti sauce.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s too late now. I¡¯ll be cultivating in my room.¡±

 Chapter 13

    Volithur limped throughout the dark barracks, trying to ease the pains of his body through movement. His efforts saw mixed results. The steady ache receded somewhat, but more acute discomfort arose in specific muscle groups. His calves protested each step. His abdomen hurt when he tried to straighten his back. His chest, triceps, and shoulders protested anything beyond a narrow range of motion. Even his back and sides hurt.

    He had thought that the two weeks of exercising with Thassily had gotten him into better shape, but now he wondered why he had ever regarded their feeble attempts as anything akin to actual exercise. He¡¯d moved until he grew tired and stopped. When the Sergeant led exercises, there was no stopping allowed until the end came and their terrifying shouts were incredibly motivating.

    By the time breakfast arrived, Volithur was wishing he¡¯d managed another hour of sleep. He ate, did another hour of Instructor Lisbet¡¯s movement training, then two hours of Instructor Gordo¡¯s weaponless combat training. The stretching felt good in a semi-painful way, but getting punched in the face with his nose still tender he did not appreciate. Eating punches happened a lot when you were too tired to keep your hands up, and those ¡®soft¡¯ punches landed with enough force to bruise.

    Mopping the barracks almost proved more than he could handle after taking his beating and Volithur actually found himself missing the days before they started normal training. He would rather return to septic duty rather than endure the torture of the trainers.

    He collapsed during conditioning training, earning him a punishment. For hours after everyone else finished conditioning, the instructors took turns making him alternate between running in place with high knees and doing a squat-and-jump. They only released him when dinner time arrived, and Volithur barely managed to choke down some of that day¡¯s cabbage and venison stew. Mental cultivation was the only thing that let him move past the pain of his body into slumber.

    The days blurred together into an achy haze. Volithur hurt every moment he was conscious. He struggled through training with a steely determination to avoid being detained for extra exercise. His efforts came at the cost of further running down his body. Pain, exhaustion, and hunger came to dominate his thoughts.

    It wasn¡¯t until they reached seventh day and had a break from the normal training routine that Volithur emerged from the haze of misery. He returned to the hammock after breakfast that day, sent himself to sleep with a bout of mental cultivation, woke for lunch, followed by another nap. Then came dinner.

    Thassily sat across a table from him and practiced sullen silence in solidarity with Volithur¡¯s griefs, though Thassily had adapted to their new lifestyle much better than he had. The sudden arrival of Clerk Anadra interrupted their quiet meal.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, the Marshal requires your immediate presence in the office,¡± the clerk announced. ¡°Please follow me at once. Someone else can clean up after you.¡±

    Volithur sullenly rose to his feet to follow the clerk. He suspected he knew what this was about. Not only had he failed the test with the moon water elixir, his performance in training was abysmal. No doubt the Marshal wanted to lay down some sort of ultimatum. ¡®Do better or get kicked out of the household.¡¯ He couldn¡¯t imagine living on the streets would be much worse than the training he was forced to endure daily.

    They didn¡¯t even leave the building, going to the secondary office the Marshal maintained in the barracks rather than the one in the palace. Clerk Anadra knocked on the door jam without stopping his march into the room. ¡°Master Marshal, Ward Harridan is here.¡±

    The Marshal looked up from a document, hard eyes fixing on Volithur. He tapped on the paperwork with two meaty fingers. ¡°Why did you not inform anyone of the terms of your wardship?¡±

    The meaning of the question escaped him. Volithur looked to the clerk for help.

    ¡°Uh,¡± Clerk Anadra said, ¡°the Marshal is asking about the stipulation that you be educated.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that.¡± The Marshal rapped his knuckles on the table. ¡°The fifth household has been in violation of the Lord General¡¯s instructions for three weeks now. Why did you not speak up?¡±

    Volithur¡¯s mind began to turn over at a rapid pace. He sensed danger, but also opportunity. ¡°Forgive me, Master Marshal. I was placed on septic duty my first day for improper decorum, so I feared drawing any further attention to myself.¡±

    The Marshal sat back in his chair, placing his fingertips together in thought. ¡°The Castellan intimidated you. Yes. That shifts some of the blame away from us.¡± The man compared two documents side by side. ¡°Why did the Lord General decree for you to receive an education and not Ward Thassily?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Time to make his move. Volithur scratched his head to avoid direct eye contact as he wove his narrative. ¡°The Lord General observed that I looked like his deceased footman. He gave me the man¡¯s name and suggested I might become his footman once my wardship ended.¡±

    Judging by the way the Marshal¡¯s jaw dropped, his words had had an effect. As the man¡¯s panic increased, Volithur came to the queasy realization that he may have oversold his relationship with the Lord General.

    ¡°You are to be trained as a footman in the Lord General¡¯s retinue?¡± The Marshal stood suddenly. ¡°We need to see the Castellan. Clerk, free up Harridan¡¯s afternoon schedule so he can attend classes in the palace. Remove him from the duty roster and assign a personal cultivation lesson for the hour before lunch. He is to receive tea powder elixir monthly, and to make up for the three weeks of lost time he will be given blood boiling elixir tomorrow morning. Come along now, Harridan.¡±

    They rushed across the yard to the palace. ¡°Ward Harridan, the blood boiling elixir is a mid tier cultivation resource. It is what myself, the Castellan, and the family members typically receive as resources for body enhancement. It more than makes up for what you were denied the past weeks. If you can retain even a tenth of its potency, your cultivation will leap ahead.¡±

    Volithur struggled to keep up the pace while his thoughts ran in circles. I should not have claimed the Lord General wants me as his footman. If these men discover I exaggerated, it will be very bad for me. On the other hand, if they never hear otherwise I will be handed power on a silver platter. I was either very smart or very stupid, and I won¡¯t know which it was for a while. It¡¯s too late for me to be honest now, I¡¯ll just have to hold fast to my story.

    Within the palace, they climbed a set of stairs and moved directly to a large door with gleaming silver handles. A clerk sat outside the office at a small desk comparing tables of numbers to a ledger. The clerk barely glanced up before speaking. ¡°Master Marshal, the Castellan is in meditation and has no time to entertain you tonight.¡±

    The Marshal leaned ominously over the small desk, placing the knuckles of his massive hands onto the wood and bringing his face unreasonably close to that of the clerk. ¡°It has come to my attention that the explicit instructions of the Lord General have been disobeyed. Your master is implicated in the situation. I will speak to the Castellan at once.¡±

    The clerk leaned away from the hovering figure. ¡°Very well, Master Marshal. I will announce your visit.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see myself in.¡± With a gesture, the door slammed open. The Marshal stomped into the expansive chamber within to face a man reclined upon a couch with a book in his hands.

    The Castellan¡¯s face grew red. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡±

    The Marshal held up Volithur¡¯s wardship contract. ¡°The Lord General decreed for Ward Harridan to receive an education. He intends for the boy to be trained as a footman in his retinue.¡±

    The Castellan flew to his feet, dropped the book to the floor as he glanced at the clerk on the other side of the open door. ¡°Breathe a word of this to anyone and your life will be misery,¡± he snapped at the clerk as he shut the door. Turning back to face the Marshal, he snapped his fingers and began to read the document.

    ¡°It says nothing about training a footman.¡±

    ¡°Harridan, what did the Lord General say to you?¡±

    Can¡¯t change my story now, he thought. ¡°Well, Master Marshal, Master Castellan, the Lord General said I looked like his footman Harridan, who had died recently. He changed my name to Harridan then and said he hoped I would be his footman.¡±

    The Castellan placed the contract down and glared at the Marshal. ¡°How long did you hold onto this before you actually read it?¡±

    ¡°Three weeks, almost to the day.¡±

    ¡°This is on you, then. I have nothing to do with it.¡±

    ¡°Harridan told me that he never spoke up because he feared you after being punished for displaying improper decorum. Before he even knew our ways, you frightened him into silence.¡±

    The two powerful men glared at each other for at least a minute, neither yielding in their silent battle of wills. Finally, the Castellan folded his arms. ¡°He can join the classes as of tomorrow. You can compensate him for those three weeks out of your budget as he falls under your command.¡±

    ¡°I have already promised him a vial of blood boiling elixir.¡±

    The Castellan rolled his eyes. ¡°A waste of resources. Has he even shown proficiency in cultivation?¡±

    ¡°When Harridan has the ear of the Lord General, I do not intend to be portrayed in a negative light,¡± the Marshal said.

    ¡°How calculating of you,¡± the Castellan said. ¡°Fine. I will match your grandiose gesture. Ward Harridan may spend fifteen minutes in the cosmic chamber. After he demonstrates proficiency in aural cultivation. Does this satisfy you, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡±

 Chapter 14

    Hector woke to the assault of a wet tongue. ¡°No kisses, Jasmine!¡± The pit bull perked up at hearing her name, looking quite pleased with herself.

    A quick check of the time revealed that it was only ten at night. He had only been unconscious for a few hours. Over time, each dream had grown to cover more time from Volithur¡¯s life. The initial experience had covered less than a day in a night of sleep and now he was experiencing an entire week in a few hours.

    Jasmine¡¯s entire rear end wagged along with her tail as she head butted him in a demand for attention. Hector pushed her away so he could get out of bed, then lifted the dog to carry her out of his bedroom into the hall. ¡°Jen, don¡¯t let the dogs into my room,¡± he shouted.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me. Jasmine knows how to use doorknobs,¡± came the response.

    ¡°So you¡¯re a Velociraptor now?¡±

    The dog smiled up at him agreeably.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to sleep with you. Consent, Jasmine. Consent.¡±

    Jasmine barked at him.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just claim an unconscious person wanted it. Haven¡¯t you ever seen an episode of Law and Order?¡±

    She tilted her head to the side.

    ¡°The SVU spin-off, not the one with all the murders.¡±

    Another bark.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never actually seen Paw Patrol, so I can¡¯t say if the comparison is valid. Though I doubt a children¡¯s show addresses the issue of sexual assault.¡±

    Jasmine moved forward to press her sturdy head against him. Hector patted her on the back and started walking to the living room, the dog following close enough to throw off his walking gait with random bumps. Jennifer sat cross-legged with the blind miniature collie in her lap, a look of intense concentration on her face.

    ¡°Are you cultivating life energy from a dog right now?¡±

    Jennifer¡¯s eyes glanced towards him before moving back to the dog in her lap. ¡°You don¡¯t ¡®cultivate¡¯ life energy. I think that term is exclusive to the Xian.¡±

    ¡°Absorbing energy seems a lot like cultivating.¡±

    ¡°If I absorbed life energy from an elderly dog, I would be murdering her.¡±

    Hector frowned. ¡°Then what is your process?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like breathing. Take and give, take and give.¡±

    ¡°And deplete the air of oxygen?¡±

    ¡°What? No. I¡¯m not consuming life energy. We¡¯re sharing it back and forth.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just moving energy back and forth? That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to be complicated, Hector.¡±

    ¡°Are there more advanced techniques that you will switch to at some point?¡±

    ¡°Why would there be any techniques?¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°To attune your soul to a specific energy?¡±

    ¡°My body is alive, Hector. The dogs are alive, too. Life energy is everywhere once you know how to feel it. All you need to do is pass it into and out of your soul and nature will take its course. I never had to use a technique to grow from a child into an adult. I just kept breathing and eating and it happened on its own. There aren¡¯t any ¡®techniques¡¯ to study or ¡®skills¡¯ to learn. It¡¯s about letting things happen.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Hector¡¯s brow drew down. ¡°Then out of the billions of people on this planet, why did no one ever figure out how to use life energy? Think of all those mystics who sit around meditating. None of them were ever able to demonstrate any proof that life energy even existed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy to explain,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°All the energies on Earth are jumbled together. I bet all the monks and martial artists were circulating energy with their souls but didn¡¯t have the experience to separate out life from the rest of it. I wouldn¡¯t know how to do it either if I didn¡¯t have the memories of Justice to guide me.¡±

    Hector pondered the words for a moment. ¡°And the method is working?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s life energy all over the place. It would be a whole lot faster if I was trying to be an Alfar instead of a dog kin.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ why would you choose the dog thing instead of the Alfar thing?¡±

    Jennifer¡¯s cheeks reddened as she studiously avoided eye contact. ¡°Maybe because people are hard, Hector. All the expectations, all the lying, all the manipulation. Dogs are just joyful creatures. Food, cuddles, walks, and they¡¯re happy.¡± Her volume dropped as she continued. ¡°Some people think we get the dreams that fit us best. I get to experience living with a wolf pack. You¡­ get to spend all day exercising and working. It¡¯s not exactly a big stretch for you.¡±

    Hector snorted. ¡°If Volithur had even a little discipline he would be ten steps ahead. I would like to grab the kid by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. He¡¯s been through some trauma very recently, I get it. But the world he is in now requires commitment if he wants a better future.¡±

    ¡°This is exactly what I was talking about. You¡¯re a better Xian than the actual Xian you remember.¡±

    ¡°Very recently you were claiming I was definitely a Jinn.¡±

    ¡°Because the Jinn like to upload their minds to machines. I don¡¯t actually know very much about them other than that.¡±

    ¡°And you know about the Xian?¡±

    Jennifer shrugged. ¡°Maybe not directly, but Justice heard enough. The Arahant coming to your planet meant you were going to be ¡®civilized¡¯. The Jinn coming to your planet meant resource extraction and abduction of your most talented children. The Xian coming to your planet meant they wanted a training exercise for their armies.¡±

    Hector couldn¡¯t find any fault in her words. ¡°Well, what about the Alfar or the Beast Kin? What happened when they went to a planet?¡±

    ¡°Hector, you can¡¯t rip holes in reality to travel the multiverse with life energy. The Alfar existed on multiple planets because the Arahant like how they influenced the environment.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Hector squinted at his estranged wife. ¡°And that doesn¡¯t make you want to consider a different type of energy?¡±

    ¡°You mean switch from a healing and nurturing energy like life to something that would let me more easily slaughter my way across worlds? No thanks, Hector.¡±

    ¡°Powerful Xian supposedly become immortal.¡±

    Jennifer arched a brow. ¡°And what about the average Xian? Do they live long?¡±

    ¡°Well, uh, I¡¯m not really sure about that, but there would have to be benefits to body enhancement even at the beginner levels.¡±

    ¡°Life energy is naturally suited to increasing longevity. Even the weakest Alfar can live for hundreds of years just from communing with nature a few times a day. I doubt it is that easy for a Xian. It definitely isn¡¯t for the Jinn, or they wouldn¡¯t need to turn themselves into robots.¡±

    Hector¡¯s thoughts went to his father. ¡°What do you know about Ogres?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re bad,¡± Jennifer said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They steal life instead of sharing it. A few Ogres can take down an entire ecosystem if they aren¡¯t stopped in time. The Alfar actually consider them a more dangerous problem than the Strigoi. A Strigoi might drain enough vitality to kill a victim, but a single Ogre is a walking famine.¡±

    ¡°An Ogre is worse than a literal vampire?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not quite vampires. No pointy teeth or blood drinking. They drain victims by touch.¡±

    Hector nodded in thought. ¡°And how fast does an Alfar become an Ogre?¡±

    ¡°Justice became a wolf kin in a couple of months. I assume it would be the same for Ogres and Strigoi. The process isn¡¯t really understood well. You can only deviate from the Alfar path as a child.¡±

    ¡°Or presumably as an adult who just learned how to use soul energy,¡± Hector added.

    Jennifer glanced to the dog in her lap. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to do some more mental cultivation. Keep Jasmine with you.¡±

 Bonus Chapter: Persuasion Interlude

    Caroline Echo, the Sage of Persuasion, knocked on a nondescript wooden door within the quiet sector of the Svarga embassy. She pushed some illusory energy into the physical act through her domain as she would empower a ritual, guiding it with the persuasion insight encoded into her realm. The occupant of the room should perceive her imposition to be a welcome interruption. She usually endeavored to be subtle with her mental manipulations, but sometimes simple and blunt was best. Everyone expected her to play with their thoughts anyway.

    ¡°Enter,¡± Earnest called. When she pulled open the door, the expectation on his face faded into concern. ¡°Persuasion. This is certainly unexpected.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so frightening as your manners might suggest, Transit.¡±

    Earnest folded his arms. ¡°What is it you want me to do?¡±

    ¡°Are you really so busy you cannot have a polite conversation with a fellow sage?¡± Her talent worked best when applied obliquely rather than directly. A nice chat was so much better than blunt speech. A fact her peers were well aware of. It made things difficult at times.

    ¡°It is not that I am busy at the moment, Persuasion. It is that I am a key asset in the reconquest of Aes and suspect you would make other claims on my time. Speak your request so that I can decline it.¡±

    Caroline laughed, putting a hint of flirting in there. She caught the slight blush of his cheeks and knew her manipulation had landed. Before he could question his reaction, she spoke again. ¡°Why would I want to pull you away from the reconquest?¡± She pushed a hint of guilt towards him with a deft touch. Too much and he¡¯d know it was artificial.

    ¡°Then we are in agreement that I won¡¯t leave my post?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t leave your post? Earnest, you are the Sage of Transit. You can walk between worlds as easily as I walk between rooms.¡± Feel pride, Earnest.

    He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up. ¡°I am a sage, after all.¡±

    ¡°Do you exhaust yourself opening portals? Or is it all resonance with your true insight?¡±

    Earnest shrugged. ¡°It does use some illusory energy. Far less than a portal ritual ¨C even the variation that uses the soil of another world for a sympathetic bridge. Even the Lord General can¡¯t move between universes for free.¡±

    Caroline¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°I¡¯ve recently had the pleasure of making Thrakkar¡¯s acquaintance.¡±

    That earned a laugh from Earnest. ¡°You poor thing. A Xian lord must be completely immune to your mental manipulations. My advice is to avoid him in the future.¡±

    She might as well strike now, since the conversation had wound close to where she had intended to steer it. ¡°The Lord General is joining us on the latest campaign of the Coalition Army. I¡¯m joining them to ensure Kevin and Thrakkar don¡¯t kill each other.¡±

    Earnest¡¯s forehead wrinkled in surprise. ¡°War Barge Kevin and the Lord General are going to be part of the same army? Why? Couldn¡¯t you dissuade them?¡±

    ¡°The Lord General respects Kevin.¡±

    ¡°He spent half a century trying to murder him!¡±

    ¡°And he failed every time. I¡¯m convinced that Thrakkar views his rivalry with Kevin as a high stakes game they played together. I can¡¯t touch Thrakkar¡¯s mind, but I don¡¯t think I need to keep him in line. If I prevent the Jinn from overreacting to any of the inevitable provocations, the alliance should hold strong. We¡¯ve all agreed to kill monsters, not each other.¡±

    Earnest snorted. ¡°Good luck with that. Wait. Are you the only sage joining the Coalition Army for this campaign?¡± He looked appropriately concerned. Caroline would have been panicking if she didn¡¯t have any muscle representing the Arahants.

    ¡°Hardly. I am bringing Conflagration.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Wow. I thought he was meditating on the flames at the natural gas crater.¡±

    The Sage of Conflagration was a unique existence, obsessed with fire to a degree that made many question his sanity. True insights could grow stronger with study, it was true, but the investment of effort was immense and not guaranteed to produce fruit. Insights came on their own schedule. Trying to force them was a fool¡¯s errand. Though she didn¡¯t think Conflagration a fool. The man¡¯s fascination with fire simply could not be satisfied.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Getting Conflagration to leave behind the eternally burning crater had been quite a victory for Caroline. Her persuasive talent didn¡¯t allow her to puppeteer a powerful existence into doing her will. She had to find an argument capable of convincing him before she made a push. And she¡¯d found one. When the Coalition Army found worlds too far gone, the Jinn torched them with antimatter. Conflagration had never seen an entire planet burn. Not yet, at least.

    ¡°Conflagration understands the danger we¡¯re in,¡± Caroline said. ¡°Every unempowered world that has its soul corrupted creates additional waves of monsters. We need to stop the chain reaction before it spreads too far.¡±

    Earnest nodded. ¡°I understand that. It¡¯s important work, Persuasion. But I¡¯m not going to join this campaign of the Coalition Army.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think the reconquest of Aes is more important than stopping the propagation of monsters? That world is already lost.¡±

    ¡°You see, that¡¯s the thing. It¡¯s not lost yet. It¡¯s in the process of being lost.¡± Earnest balled up his fists. ¡°You should be convincing the Coalition Army to focus on Aes. We can never allow a true world to be corrupted.¡±

    Caroline thought of all the objections she could make. The miasma was so thick on parts of Aes that not even Xian Lords dared step foot there. Certainly Jinn weapons and Arahant rituals couldn¡¯t influence reality through the chaotic haze. Not only was Aes certainly lost, the reconquest would never be successful. The Sage of Transit had to constantly cycle warriors in and out of the battlefronts so that they could recover from miasma exposure before redeployment.

    ¡°Why such loyalty to the Aes campaign, Transit? It¡¯s been close to half a century now. In all that time you¡¯ve only taken brief breaks to restore your energy on Maya. People say you have gone native from all the time you spend on Union Central. Surely that isn¡¯t true.¡±

    Earnest folded his arms. ¡°I am following the directions of Foresight.¡±

    Caroline stared. Levinia had set this up? That bitch. Playing her games even from the grave. ¡°Foresight is dead, Transit. She doesn¡¯t dictate strategy any longer.¡±

    ¡°Maybe not for anyone else.¡± Earnest shook his head. ¡°Not even you will be able to move me on this, Persuasion. There are only two ways I will ever cease my efforts. Either I die or the reconquest succeeds.¡±

    She gritted her teeth. ¡°What did Levinia tell you?¡±

    ¡°If any true world falls, humanity ends everywhere. She asked me to keep fighting for Aes no matter what happens.¡±

    ¡°Was this before she died on her ill-advised sightseeing trip to Aes?¡±

    ¡°She gave me my instructions the day before she departed.¡±

    Caroline¡¯s laugh sounded forced even to her. It hardly mattered. She doubted Transit would be swayed no matter how hard she pushed. Reality warped around level ten souls in a manner that was as undeniable as it was subtle. If Transit was dead set on his course of action, Caroline¡¯s efforts wouldn¡¯t change his core convictions.

    Still, Caroline wouldn¡¯t pass up a chance to insult the memory of her one-time friend and long-term rival. Levinia screwed her over too many times and her final act screwed over the entire multiverse. ¡°You realize that her sight isn¡¯t foolproof, don¡¯t you? Foresight waltzed right to her death.¡±

    Earnest looked to the ground. ¡°She knew what would happen.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous!¡± Caroline shook her head. ¡°Levinia was overconfident. She made a mistake.¡±

    ¡°She told me she had to sacrifice herself. It was the best future she could bring about.¡± The man still looked down and now Caroline saw tears dripping from his cheeks.

    ¡°How is this the best future? We are constantly on the verge of disaster, Transit. Do you know that the isolationist wing of the Mercom Jinn almost gained a majority in their last election? If they pull their war barges from the Coalition Army, we lose the ability to purge corrupted worlds.¡±

    ¡°Foresight¡­ she said if humanity lasted a single decade, her gamble was worth it.¡±

    The room suddenly grew cold. They were approaching the fifth decade since Aes fell and Levinia passed. By the holy ones, did she commit suicide? Were things really so bad, even back then?

    Earnest gestured towards the door. ¡°You should go, Persuasion. I won¡¯t abandon my post. No matter how much I hate sending the weak fools from Union Central to their deaths.¡±

    Caroline put a hand to her forehead. ¡°Command refuses to spend more lives on Aes. I can¡¯t change their minds on such a firm position any more than I can yours. Even if it is as dire as you say.¡±

    ¡°If you want to help, tell the government of Promise City that the reconquest is important. Public support is declining.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°I can do that much for you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Persuasion.¡±

    ¡°I am happy to be of service, Transit.¡± As Caroline left behind the embassy, she felt the weariness in her heart grow deeper. Events constantly spiraled downward. Her best efforts did no more than delay the inevitable.

    They needed the Xian to be more involved in the Coalition Army, so she had to leave Maya for a time to prevent conflict between Thrakkar and Kevin. While she was gone, the Assembly of Svarga would be certain to move deployed resources back home to protect the world of Maya. In the long term, that was only placing the home world in more danger. Yet the Representatives would bow to the fears of their constituents without her there.

    Everything was bad and getting worse. Caroline squared her shoulders as she planned how she would scare the government of Promise City into providing more soldiers for the Aes reconquest. However dire things might become, she wasn¡¯t going to give up. Nor would she let herself believe that Levinia had done so.

 Chapter 15

    When he arrived for breakfast, the Sergeant himself approached Volithur with a vial of blood boiling elixir. ¡°Ward Harridan, the Marshal has provided the elixir for you. It is best taken after a meal.¡± The Sergeant bowed as he handed over the vial. ¡°It is a blend of powdered black tea leaves, powdered peppermint leaves, juice of lime, and a sliver of ginger ¨C all sourced directly from the Xian home world of Tian. The ingredients are steeped in mineral water infused with cosmic energy and then cooled to room temperature for superior absorption.¡±

    Volithur accepted the vial with a bow and word of thanks, then joined the food line. The soldiers and recruits in the room cast furtive glances in his directions over bowls of rice porridge topped with salted fish and pickled vegetables. As he sat with his own bowl and began to eat, Thassily leaned closer with wide eyes.

    ¡°What is happening, Harridan?¡±

    Volithur kept his tone low as he responded, hoping his friend would remain true. ¡°Do you remember the ceremony where we received our wardships?¡±

    Thassily snorted. ¡°I mostly remember being scared to the threshold of death.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember the Lord General speaking with me?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He didn¡¯t do that for the rest of us. You¡­ looked like someone?¡±

    ¡°He thought I looked like one of his attendants who died a while ago. And he said maybe I would take the guy¡¯s place. I guess that¡¯s a big deal around here.¡±

    Thassily frowned in thought. ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s good. Elixirs are good, at least.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Volithur considered the vial on the table before him. He had not done very well absorbing the moon water elixir, but this one was higher quality. No doubt it would prove beneficial to him. Though not as beneficial as it would to someone with more talent.

    Volithur glanced at Thassily. The boy was scarfing down his breakfast, a look of dull contentment on his face. Thassily was taller, heavier, stronger, faster, and superior at cultivation. Based on their experiences working together, Volithur also felt confident that his friend was more diligent at putting in the necessary work. The boy was better than him in almost every way that mattered in this new environment.

    And Volithur¡¯s lies would likely shift resources away from Thassily towards himself. Volithur wanted those resources. He also wanted to defraud the fifth household of some of its wealth. But he did not want to hold back his friend.

    ¡°Thassily,¡± he whispered, ¡°Drink down all of your water and place the cup close to me.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± His friend¡¯s question came out too loud, highlighting the area of Volithur¡¯s superiority: cunning calculation.

    ¡°Quiet! I¡¯m going to share some of my elixir with you, but no one can know what we do.¡±

    Thassily blinked at him. ¡°Harridan, you need the elixir. You¡­ you aren¡¯t very good at cultivating.¡±

    ¡°I know. The elixir is going to be wasted on me. That¡¯s why I want you to get some of it.¡±

    Thassily¡¯s eyes darted back and forth between Volithur and the vial. ¡°But you need it.¡±

    ¡°I am going to make my fortune around here based on resembling a dead man, Thassily. You have to do the same on hard work and talent. Just empty your cup now.¡±

    Thassily hesitated only a moment longer, then drained his cup in a single chug before slamming it back to the table. Volithur cringed at the sound, but no one else in the chaotic bustle of breakfast seemed to notice. He uncapped the vial, tilted half of its contents into his mouth, then poured the rest into the empty cup with the least suspicious motion he could manage.

    As cool minty tea slid down his throat, Thassily took another gulp of liquid and shared a bright smile with him. Volithur finished the remnants of his meal, drank the rest of his water, and stared at the empty vial. He felt nothing more than the satiety of a recent meal.

    ¡°How long is it supposed to take?¡± Thassily poked at his belly in a suspicious manner that made Volithur clench his teeth. ¡°Does it not work if you take half the dose? Harridan, I hope I didn¡¯t ruin your chance to catch up.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    The Sergeant gave the five minute warning, so they bussed their bowls and spoons. Volithur gave the vial back to the Sergeant, who held the glass container up to the light briefly before turning it upside down over his mouth to accept the last two drops that were shaken free. Then the Sergeant winked at him before yelling a one minute warning.

    The morning continued on as normal. Mobility work blended into balance work blended into holding poses. Volithur forced himself to follow along with the rest of the group in spite of muscular aches that had taken residence in his body over a week ago and refused to leave.

    Then came weaponless combat. Instructor Gordo paired Volithur with one surly degenerate after another. He did his best to protect his face but found himself reaching on his blocks, which he instinctively did in spite of understanding that it left him overextended and out of place to intercept follow-up strikes. During his turns to play offensively, Volithur made sure not to be too aggressive for fear of inviting retribution. Yet he also avoided being too soft, which he knew from experience only invited sadistic contempt. He had been dropped by liver shots several times, which Instructor Gordo actually encouraged as a ¡®punishment¡¯ for weakness.

    As the sparring drills continued, Volithur eventually found himself paired with a wiry man from the militia who was closest in size to him. Instructor Gordo called a halt before the two of them could even start. A sense of disappointment briefly rose up in Volithur.

    ¡°Gather round, everyone,¡± Instructor Gordo commanded, ¡°Ward Harridan is going to have his first smoker. His opponent for this is Little Nero.¡±

    Little Nero looked as surprised as anyone. ¡°You sure about this, Gordo? He¡¯s soft yet.¡±

    ¡°Quite sure. Ward Harridan has an urgent need to awaken his fighting spirit.¡±

    ¡°Might smother it, instead,¡± Little Nero said.

    Instructor Gordo shrugged. ¡°Awaken, smother, just so long as you give Harridan a real fight.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Instructor Gordo,¡± Little Nero muttered. He caught Volithur¡¯s eye. ¡°Keep your guard up for once, kid. I won¡¯t be playing.¡±

    Instructor Gordo stepped between them, brought one hand to point towards each of them, and then brought them together in a resounding clap. ¡°Fight!¡±

    Throughout the entire run-up, Volithur had been frozen like a mouse before a cat, but as Little Nero advanced on him with hands up, a terrible urge to flee seized him. Volithur turned tail and ran. He only made it a few steps before rough hands from the circled crowd caught him, spun him about, and pushed him towards his opponent.

    His heart beating, Volithur cast his gaze about for a path of escape. There was none. All he could do was take his beating and try to minimize the damage he took.

    Little Nero jabbed at his face.

    Volithur threw up both hands.

    The next strike hit him in the liver, causing his legs to go wobbly as the pain hit.

    As Volithur hit the ground, invisible cables of power threw him back onto his feet. ¡°No easy outs today,¡± Instructor Gordo announced. ¡°Keep beating him until he fights back for real, Little Nero.¡±

    The fists came at his face again. Volithur went to block in his usual fashion, but knew he would be opening himself up for another body shot. He pulled his block short instead, absorbed the first strike, returned his elbows to his ribs in time to catch the second strike, and ate a hook to his jaw.

    Volithur swayed, almost went down, and noticed Little Nero standing with both hands at his sides, not even deigning to defend himself. Volithur whipped back around and drove his fist hard into Little Nero¡¯s nose.

    The man fell backwards onto his tailbone. He reached up to test the integrity of his nasal architecture, gave a slow nod to Volithur, and stood. ¡°It¡¯s on, then.¡±

    With those words, Little Nero charged forward.

    Volithur ate fist after fist, never managing to block more than one strike at a time as he flailed about. The flurry of fists continued, knuckles impacting with jarring force that brought flashes of pain and panic. Volithur¡¯s core and limbs began to grow hot from the combat.

    He stumbled about, trying to escape, only to be pushed back into the fight by the spectators. Strikes came again and again, landing more often than not.

    And then they stopped. Volithur moved his hands out of his line of sight long enough to catch sight of Little Nero gasping for air like he had just completed the afternoon conditioning session.

    Meanwhile, every bit of exhaustion had fled Volithur during their battle. Watching his opponent sway on his feet, barely able to stay upright, Volithur had a flash of insight. He glanced wide-eyed at Instructor Gordo, who winked at him and mouthed ¡®blood boiling elixir¡¯. The sensation of fiery heat within his body grew ever more fierce as he stood there.

    Instructor Gordo clapped his hands. ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it could have been. Ward Harridan not only survived, he even knocked Little Nero down once. It looks like the boy has some potential after all. Everyone else back with your original partner for a round of light sparring. Little Nero, take a seat before you tip over. Ward Harridan, grab a shower and wait in the dining hall for someone to collect you.¡±

 Chapter 16

    The cold water barely sufficed to quench the endless waves of heat radiating from his flesh. For once, Volithur did not miss heated water. He felt as if he might catch on fire. Strangely, the heat did not bother him. Indeed, he felt strong and energetic.

    The tapestry of bruises on his body were a pale yellow, as if they had been healing for days already even though many of them had been refreshed minutes ago. The blood boiling elixir managed to not only live up to its odd name, but also its hallowed reputation. The soreness that had plagued him since he began his training had vanished entirely.

    He left the shower before he could use all the water, dressed in a fresh uniform, and went to wait in the dining hall. The Sergeant stopped in just a few minutes later.

    ¡°How are you feeling, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Hot,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°It can be quite intense.¡±

    ¡°It healed all my aches.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I doubt that. Your body is pumped full of cosmic energy at the moment. It¡¯s not an inherently healing energy. A powerful master can use it like that, but a beginner like you is only able to harness motive power. Your movements become stronger, the fluids move swifter through your body, and the swelling of tissue declines for a time.¡± The Sergeant smiled at Volithur. ¡°Shall we begin your private cultivation lesson?¡±

    ¡°You are teaching me, Sergeant?¡±

    ¡°One of my top priorities is shaping you into a noble¡¯s footman. Based on the meager talents you have shown so far, that will be no minor undertaking, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Sergeant.¡±

    The Sergeant grunted. ¡°The Lord General mostly forgets the fifth household exists. When he does remember, it is typically to exile his less promising descendants away from the first and second households. We are not a significant component of the Shaocheth estate. There is a good chance the Lord General doesn¡¯t return for the footman he asked to be trained. But if he does remember¡­ if he does return for you¡­ we will have done our part. Whether you like it or not, we will also ensure that you have done your part. A lot of hard work is in your future, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I will do my best, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now I want you to begin cultivating the blood boiling elixir. Do just as you did with the moon water elixir. Inhale and exhale from your soul using your body aperture. Once you have that down, we can move on to more advanced methods.¡±

    Volithur struggled to figure out the basic method for a few minutes. Always before he had exercised to draw forth energy from his soul into his body, then allowed his soul to draw back the cosmic energy in his flesh. No one had ever taught him how to do that without the exercise.

    Apparently, having exchanged energy in the past had given him enough proficiency that he could manage without the exercise. No doubt his efforts were aided by the fact that his body was overflowing with cosmic energy that pushed against his soul aperture. He simply figured out how to relax the metaphysical orifice and energy poured into his soul.

    He then managed to push the energy back out without much challenge, establishing an in-and-out rhythm. Volithur¡¯s body slowly lost the intense burn sensation as he cultivated. A sense of pride filled him. He might not have achieved this through talent, but he had in fact been responsible for his current situation. Deceiving his captors and seizing their resources for his own deserved some appreciation, by his estimation.

    The rhythm of body cultivation continued for a time. Volithur quickly learned that if he went too quickly his body didn¡¯t gain enough heat for the inhalations to be worthwhile. Similarly, if he went too slowly, he would once more grow uncomfortably warm. Keeping a good pace balanced the two extremes and made his soul tingle.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing great so far,¡± the Sergeant said. ¡°But now I want you to begin directing the exhalations from your soul into individual bones. At this point I don¡¯t expect you to have a strong grasp of your bone structure, so only focus on the big, obvious ones. The skull or one of the femurs. Exhale into the bone of your choice, then inhale from your entire body. We¡¯re combine body cultivation, the pulling of energy into the soul from the body, with body enhancement, the permanent improvement of the body.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The exercise continued, with Volithur directing the energy from his soul into his skull. He did this for perhaps an hour before the cosmic energy in his body began to drop off precipitously. The Sergeant grunted. ¡°I was hoping that would last longer. No matter. You are off to a good start. Stay here until lunch and practice what we worked on. Use every last dreg of the elixir to accomplish something. After noon bread I will walk you over to the classroom.¡±

    The Sergeant left for a time while Volithur continued to cultivate. Though he was no longer overflowing with cosmic energy, his body still held enough that every effort was ten times more productive than it would normally be. He forced down a twinge of regret for sharing the elixir with Thassily. He didn¡¯t need to hoard every opportunity for himself when the household was committed to his training.

    Soon enough, a runner arrived with a pack on his back stuffed full of loaves. The girl set out the bread on the serving table while making eyes at him. Volithur sat in silence, pretending not to notice the attention on him. When everything was arranged to her satisfaction, the girl strode over to where he sat.

    ¡°Are ya one of the soldier recruits, fellow?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a ward of the Lord General,¡± he said.

    ¡°A ward of the Lord General,¡± the girl repeated. She flashed a wide smile, revealing several missing teeth in her pock-marked face. ¡°Must be nice. When the Xian took my world, I got dragged away from me mom¡¯s bakery to indenture at the palace kitchen here.¡±

    Some of the stiffness in Volithur¡¯s shoulders eased. ¡°You lost your family to the Xian, too?¡±

    ¡°What was left of it. Pox came through my town and wiped out a ton of folk. About a year after, the Xian show up and take any who look useful. Me mom looked useful in a way she didn¡¯t care to be used, if you take me meaning. They didn¡¯t care for the word ¡®no¡¯ and that was it for her. I didn¡¯t want to work for their type, but a kid don¡¯t have much recourse against Xian soldiers.¡±

    ¡°They popped my parent¡¯s heads like grapes right in front of me,¡± Volithur said, his tone strangely cavalier. He didn¡¯t like how casual the conversation felt. He should be raging or crying when he spoke about the crimes done to his parents.

    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s how they keep the blood from their uniforms,¡± the girl said. She nodded at him. ¡°Must be hard training with the soldiers.¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t really matter if it was.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t give many options, do they?¡± The girl held out her hand abruptly. ¡°My name is Ava of Yelling. Just call me Ava. They don¡¯t like me using the name of my town.¡±

    ¡°They call me Ward Harridan around here.¡± Volithur took the offered hand in his own. ¡°But my birth name is Volithur.¡±

    Ava¡¯s eyes sparkled as she smiled down at him, gaps in her teeth evident. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure meeting a fellow prisoner, Volithur who goes by Ward Harridan. They feed the soldiers well enough, but if you ever want richer fare from the kitchens, let me know and I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    ¡°Do they have chocolate?¡±

    ¡°Right for the jugular, this one,¡± Ava laughed. ¡°No chocolate around here. I might be able to get you a piece of lemon cake with a dusting of powdered sugar.¡±

    ¡°That sounds good, but I don¡¯t have anything to pay you back with.¡±

    Ava waved away his complaint. ¡°A friendly chat is more than most care to give. An indentured cook¡¯s assistant ain¡¯t hardly human to the palace folk. If you stay on at the barracks, might not be terrible having a soldier for a friend either.¡± She glanced towards the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way now, Ward Harridan. One of these days, I¡¯ll get you a slice of that cake.¡±

    ¡°See you around, Ava.¡± As the girl rushed off, Volithur pondered the interaction. If he looked past the pock marks and the missing teeth, Ava wasn¡¯t entirely unappealing. Unhealthily thin, especially for someone who worked in a kitchen, but she had a defiant sparkle to her dark eyes that rooted itself in his memory. Or maybe that was just because of the appreciative looks she had sent his direction. In spite of much effort, Volithur had never been popular with the girls back home.

    Volithur placed those thoughts aside as he tore into one of the loaves. Apparently the Xian rampaged across multiple worlds, slaying unempowered humans like animals and bringing back fresh orphans as slaves. The fact bothered him less than it should. Why am I so numb to everything that happened? Don¡¯t I care what they did?

    The others trickled in and devoured bread. Thassily pulled him aside with excitement in his eyes. ¡°Harridan, my body is on fire. I swear I¡¯ve made more progress today than in all the time we¡¯ve been here.¡±

    Volithur clapped his friend on the shoulder. ¡°Good! Cultivate it while you can.¡±

    The Sergeant stepped through the door, caught sight of him, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Get a move on, Ward Harridan. We need to get you over to the palace before the afternoon session begins.¡±

 Chapter 17

    The vitality that had filled Volithur drained away on the walk to the palace, leaving him exhausted and sore. It seemed his aches had not healed after all. The Sergeant gave him instructions as they approached the tiered pyramid.

    ¡°Always show up showered and in a fresh uniform. Don¡¯t be late. Sit in the back of the classroom with the other commoners. Don¡¯t speak unless you are directly addressed, and then be sure to use proper titles. If you don¡¯t know the rank of someone, call them master.¡±

    Volithur almost tripped. ¡°Are the other students nobles?¡±

    ¡°Of course they¡¯re nobles. Did you think a class in the palace would be full of groundskeepers? The senior staff are permitted to send their children to class as well, but the difference between the son of a Records Keeper and the untalented great-grandson of the Lord General is not so large. The difference between a ward and the noble students is comparably much more. Though your status might be greater in potential given you have the Lord General¡¯s favor. Any noble stationed at the fifth household does not hold such favor.¡±

    ¡°Why is there even a fifth household?¡±

    The Sergeant laughed. ¡°To tax the city outside the gates, of course. Money and conscripts are necessary to fight wars. And wars are necessary to gain prestige among the Lords of Tian. The Lord General has a Transit Sphere Externality, so he fields large armies and settles satellite households on conquered worlds.¡±

    Their conversation cut off as they entered the palace. They made quick time as they approached a corner room on the ground floor filled with bookshelves, the airy space illuminated by a series of skylights. Volithur took a deep breath through his nose, savoring the scent of books and wood. To one side of the library stood a door, beyond which awaited a classroom full of wooden desks arranged in neat rows before a chalkboard.

    A portly man whose chubby cheeks were partly concealed by facial hair met them at the door. The man sniffed as if he had encountered something unpleasant. ¡°You are Ward Harridan? I had expected a future footman of the Lord General to be more impressive.¡±

    The Sergeant cleared his throat. ¡°Ward harridan, this is the Head Scribe, who is in charge of education in the household. You are to obey his commands and work hard.¡±

    ¡°Your assistance is neither necessary or desired, Sergeant. Go swing a spear outside.¡±

    The Sergeant inclined his head. ¡°Excellent advice, Master Scribe. After all, spear work is the reason the Lord General set up this household.¡±

    ¡°Then be on your way, Sergeant.¡± The Head Scribe watched the Sergeant exit with narrow eyes, then turned to face Volithur. ¡°I hope you know your place better than your superior, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I am at your command, Master Scribe.¡±

    The Head Scribe lifted his nose into the air. ¡°As is proper. Seating in my classroom is by rank. You may take one of the four desks against the back wall. I can foresee no reason for you to speak. Sit quietly and absorb what learning you can.¡± A thought suddenly occurred to the Head Scribe. ¡°Can you read?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Scribe.¡±

    ¡°Can you perform calculations?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Scribe.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The Head Scribe considered him. ¡°Your etiquette is passable. If your reading and calculating are at a sufficient level, we might have a chance at properly educating you.¡±

    A dismissive flick of the wrist told Volithur that he should take a desk, so he obeyed the unspoken command in respectful silence. Everyone in the palace has to rub in their superior position at every opportunity. I guess I will just have to be secretly satisfied knowing that I fooled them all into treating me better than they would prefer.

    Fifteen minutes later, the room began to fill with other students. A boy of about his age sat down in the back row beside Volithur and bared his teeth in a smile. ¡°You are the Ward receiving an education, I presume?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master.¡±

    The boy¡¯s smile grew wider. ¡°No need to be so formal. I am a commoner myself. I¡¯m Hazen, eldest son of the Records Keeper.¡±

    A girl at the front of the room drew his eye. Long chestnut hair, pale porcelain skin, full lips, and delicate features caused his breath to catch for a moment. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Beside him, Hazen smirked. ¡°Ward Harridan, are you dreaming above your station?¡±

    Volithur blushed and pulled his gaze away from the beauty. ¡°I just looked to the front of the room for a moment, is all.¡±

    ¡°Rolanda is the gem of the fifth household. Sons of the family visit here on occasion to make her acquaintance. A commoner who appeared to be soliciting her attention would not be treated well.¡± Hazen placed a hand on Volilthur¡¯s shoulder. ¡°My best relationship advice would be to seek out a commoner girl of low station. There are many with passing looks and they would be filled with everlasting gratitude if you elevated their standing. It¡¯s a much happier outcome for everyone than if a jealous noble targeted you.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Volithur said, for want of a more intelligent response.

    Up front, the Head Scribe bowed to the class and began a lecture on proper manners when interacting with people in various positions. How low to incline your head to a superior equal versus a true superior versus a chief superior. Where to stand. What to do with your hands. Proper protocol for opening doors, where to stand in mixed groups, even how loud to laugh at jokes. As ridiculous as the lecture seemed, the other students listened with rapt attention, nodding along to the bits they already knew and pondering thoughtfully on the more challenging material.

    Volunteers from among the more prestigious students would participate in demonstrations, provide answers, or pose questions while the back half of the room sat in strict observation of the proceedings. Volithur learned a lot. He suspected the information would prove a useful guide for the rest of his life. As much as he despised the fact that he existed in a society that valued such strict hierarchies and regimented social interactions, he had learned well his first lesson among the fifth household: improper decorum would not be tolerated.

    The lesson went on for an hour before they switched topics. Next came arithmetic, which the Head Scribe called calculations in a tone that gave it an esoteric air. The Head Scribe made oblique comments about how everyone present might not be able to understand the intricacies of the basic multiplication process he was demonstrating, which Volithur assumed were directed at him.

    Towards the end of that segment, the Head Scribe begged for everyone¡¯s full attention as he demonstrated division. Volithur schooled his features to prevent the sneer he felt on the inside from escaping. These people who looked down on him were confused by material he had mastered in elementary school on his own world. Judging by the time it took the Head Scribe to perform arithmetic in his head, Volithur thought it a good bet that he was the most knowledgeable mathematician in the room.

    At the end of the hour, they switched topics once more. This time they turned towards practicing a form of mental projection, what they called ¡®band communication¡¯. Volithur sat very still, his earlier pride in his academic prowess absent as he realized he lacked the necessary mental enhancement to participate. Indeed, he hadn¡¯t even realized telepathy was possible for the Xian.

    The end of the third hour arrived and the Head Scribe bowed to the class, thanked them for their attention, and wished them a good day. The students left the room en mass, strolling through the library to disappear into the depths of the palace. The Head Scribe held up a hand to stop Volithur before he could join the exodus.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, the bottom shelf behind the reading table has a set of beginner curriculum that I expect you to familiarize yourself with. You can use the time between the end of class and dinner to do your reading. Do not remove any of the books or smudge them with dirty fingers.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Master Scribe.¡±

 Chapter 18

    Hector worked out like a maniac before buying seeds from a lawn and garden store and picking up some fresh produce from a grocery. He was still clenching his jaw and trying not to think about the disrespect he had been shown in his sleep. No, not him, Volithur had been shown disrespect. For over a week of class. And Volithur had accepted his lot in life. Not that there was much else to be done as a medieval serf surrounded by asshole wizards.

    He entered the hospital room to find his dad asleep and settled in to wait with the conspicuous bag of gardening supplies and fruits at his side. The life he experienced in his dreams had become more than a little tedious. While Hector had learned a good bit about cultivation that he could use, he also had his head stuffed full of ridiculous trivia like how loud you should laugh at a superior¡¯s jokes.

    The books Volithur had been instructed to read were nothing impressive, either. Volithur had progressed through half of them in just nine days. A couple of them were children¡¯s primers on reading. There were bound essays on court behavior, jokes to be memorized in case you were asked to tell one, and tomes describing in painstaking detail what both he and Volithur considered to be very simple math.

    The only book Volithur had seen any actual value in was the cultivation manual that outlined mental enhancement techniques. Though a prerequisite for using those techniques was attuning the soul to cosmic energy, gaining what was known as a first level soul.

    Hector didn¡¯t hold out much hope that Volithur would achieve a first level soul any time soon. His dream counterpart didn¡¯t seem to have any natural talent for cultivation. Thassily had reached the first level a few days after drinking the elixir. Meanwhile, the Sergeant seemed to be losing his patience with Volithur¡¯s slow progress.

    ¡°Did you bring the stuff?¡±

    ¡°Good morning to you, too, dad.¡± Hector reached into the bag and pulled out the paper envelopes the seeds had come in. ¡°I got green beans, peppers, cucumbers, squash, cantaloupe, corn, pumpkin ¨C¡±

    His dad took the envelopes out of his hands before he could finish reading them. ¡°I can read labels on my own, Hector.¡± With determination in his eyes, his dad opened each container, dumped tiny seeds onto his palm, and then dumped them onto the floor where they promptly collapsed into dust. The entire selection disappeared in two minutes, slowed only by the time it took a terminally ill old man to rip open paper containers.

    ¡°Not much life energy in seeds, it seems,¡± his dad said. ¡°Give me the fruit?¡±

    His dad ate one strawberry, then visibly drained the vitality from the rest of them until they appeared like dirty, desiccated husks. ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± In quick succession, grapes, a bunch of bananas, an orange, and a pineapple had the life drained from them.

    Hector carefully placed the remnants of the fruit back into the bag so he could dispose of them without drawing attention to what they had done. ¡°How are you feeling now?¡±

    His dad sighed. ¡°Hungry.¡±

    ¡°About time your appetite came back. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Not the normal kind of hungry, Hector. The evil monster kind.¡±

    ¡°Dad, don¡¯t be dramatic about this.¡±

    ¡°My soul started resonating with life after your last visit.¡±

    ¡°The Xian call that a level one soul.¡±

    His dad rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not cultivating, Hector. I¡¯m devouring. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve crossed a point of no return yet. I could probably back off, exchange energy like an Alfar, and avoid the path of the Ogre. But then I die of cancer in a few weeks.¡±

    ¡°We can figure out the Ogre thing. This isn¡¯t a primitive society. We have artificial fertilizers that can supercharge crop growth. You can beat cancer, reverse the aging process, and have fresh adventures.¡±

    His dad sank back into the pillows. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it works, Hector. I think once you go Ogre, you are just a vessel for the hunger. You feed until someone tries to stop you, then you rampage for a bit.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°This sounds an awful lot like a slippery slope argument,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Slippery slopes take out a lot of elderly hips every winter.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not stretch the analogy too far. What do you want me to bring you tomorrow?¡±

    His dad closed his eyes. ¡°Nothing, Hector. I don¡¯t think living longer is worth losing everything I value in myself. I just want to finish my dreams before the end. It would be a shame not knowing what happens.¡±

    Hector bit back an argument. ¡°So how are things with Deronto?¡±

    ¡°I think he¡¯s going to join that cult of tree worshipers.¡±

    ¡°Is that a good thing?¡±

    ¡°Might be.¡±

    Hector waited until he was sure his dad slept, then left the hospital. His thoughts bounced back and forth between the two issues consuming him. His dad¡¯s only chance at life was becoming an Ogre, which everyone thought a terrible fate. The only method for him to gain cosmic energy was to use mental cultivation.

    Whether or not Terry Thoreaux wanted to be an Ogre, the only problem that couldn¡¯t be solved was death. Lack of cultivation resources from the Xian home world made it almost impossible for Hector to attune his soul to cosmic energy.

    Thus he needed to convince his dad to keep absorbing life energy, which meant delivering fresh fruit to be drained daily. Since his mind was the only cultivation resource he had, Hector needed to enhance his abilities naturally.

    Potted herbs would be a good life source to try, considering how they grew like weeds. Maybe some energy drinks and brain boosting supplements to boost his mental endurance.

    The ping-pong back-and-forth continued unabated as he parked and walked into the warehouse. Upon entering his small office room, he promptly found himself confronted by the director of operations and the chief operating officer, who had claimed his seat and the guest seat. As he stood facing the two of them, his brain misfiring at the transition from life problems to work, the director of operations began the attack.

    ¡°It¡¯s after ten, Hector. First shift starts at seven on the dot.¡±

    The chief operating officer joined in. ¡°We understand you have the situation happening with your father, but this has been going on for months now. You wouldn¡¯t put up with this kind of thing from an employee, would you?¡±

    Hector gaped at them, mouth open in surprise.

    The director of operations leaned back in Hector¡¯s chair. ¡°We¡¯re not going to make a big deal about this. No need for a formal write-up. Just a friendly warning and you right your ways. Make sure you are on premises at the start of shift from now on. Okay?¡±

    The resentment that had built in his heart through every dream of Volilthur¡¯s mistreatment boiled free of Hector¡¯s heart. He leaned forward and slammed his meaty fist into the desk. ¡°Who the hell do you think you are, Todd?¡± He turned his glare to catch the chief operating officer in his attack. ¡°Same goes for you, Jerry.¡±

    Hector reached across his desk, seized the director of operations¡¯ tie, and pulled the terrified man towards him. ¡°You have a problem with me working the hours I do? Do you, Todd? Maybe I¡¯ll start working your hours, then. I can show up at eight every morning, take an hour lunch every day, and be at the golf course by five. I¡¯ll let my shift supervisors handle any problems off hours like you do.

    ¡°Now that I think about it, this is a great fucking idea. I would really enjoy working less than eighty hours a week. No more showing up for Saturdays. Is that what you want, Todd? Huh? Are you going to answer me, you pathetic little shit?¡±

    To one side, Jerry had plastered his back to the wall. ¡°Hey, hey now, Hector, let¡¯s calm down here. We didn¡¯t realize how tense things were at home. Why don¡¯t we all just forget this meeting happened?¡±

    Hector turned to face the coward. ¡°Fuck you, Jerry. I ought to resign on the spot. I have worked my ass off for this company most of my life and you want to barge into my office and lecture me? You¡¯ve underfunded my department for decades and I have pulled off miracles daily to get the job done. This place would fall apart without me and right now I might like to see that happen.¡±

    The COO¡¯s face had gone ashen. ¡°Please, Hector, don¡¯t do anything rash. We were in the wrong here. I see that. Can I get you a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant as an apology?¡±

    Hector stared down the man, enjoying the thrill of exerting his dominance for once. ¡°Here¡¯s my demands, gentlemen. If you want me to continue working at this company, then the two of you can do my job for the rest of today. Stay until midnight making sure everything gets out the door, then when I come in at this time tomorrow, we can have another chat to decide if I still work here or not. Quite frankly, I had enough money for an early retirement five years ago.¡±

    The exultation he felt as he slammed the door on his way out of the room stayed with him the rest of the day.

 Chapter 19

    Volithur stole glances at Rolanda while the Head Scribe wrote on the chalkboard and prattled on about long division. He didn¡¯t feel like he had made hardly any progress at cultivation since the blood boiling elixir. The soldiers thought Thassily was a genius and had begun giving him more individualized instruction. Meanwhile, the Sergeant¡¯s private lessons became ever more awkward as Volithur failed to progress at every juncture.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, please come to the front of the room.¡±

    Volithur startled. Row after row of faces turned to peer back at him. With timid steps, he walked to the front of the room to stand before the Head Scribe in the exact proper mini-bow stance, feet oriented at forty-five degrees to his superior¡¯s, hands clasped before him and an ambiguously obsequious almost-smile on his face.

    ¡°Since your attention has been absent from my lecture, I can only assume you know the answer to this problem already. Please solve it while we watch.¡±

    The solution to this social situation had never been covered in class. Did he disobey his superior¡¯s direct command? Definitely not. But obeying would cause embarrassment for his superior, which would also be bad. The only way out of the conundrum seemed to be solving the math problem while giving a convincing performance.

    Volithur took the chalk and approached the board. With carefully acted hesitance, he began to work at the solution, pausing after each step as if unsure before continuing on to the next. He dragged it out, and several times shot convincing glances towards other problems still on the board as if seeking inspiration.

    When he finished, he bowed and offered the chalk back. ¡°I hope this satisfies, Master Scribe.¡±

    The Head Scribe gestured to the back of the room. ¡°It satisfies, Ward Harridan. Return to your seat and retain your focus on lessons this time. The Lord General did not request you receive an education because he wanted you to gawk at the girls.¡±

    Volithur slunk back to his seat under the titters and sneers of his betters. Hazen mimed smacking himself in the head when Volithur met his eyes. The Head Scribe, of course, made sure not to notice Hazen¡¯s behavior. The boy¡¯s father, it turned out, was the Head Scribe¡¯s boss. Everyone here had connections except for him.

    Well, they thought he had a shallow connection to the Lord General. That kept him in some degree of comfort, but Volithur dreaded the backlash if the members of the fifth household ever realized he was a nobody. Hopefully by that time he managed to make something of himself.

    His previous plan of rising up against the Lord General in revenge had been dismissed as the ravings of a fool. He would be fortunate to one day match up against an average soldier on this backwater world. Hoping for anything more was unrealistic.

    Rolanda drew his eyes once more, even as he willed them to turn any other direction.

    How so much beauty could be squeezed into one woman, he didn¡¯t understand. What made it even more unbearable were her actions. Rolanda held herself with grace and extended gentle kindness to everyone around her. She was like a damn fairy tale princess. Which would make him a random background character in the story, briefly and indirectly referenced in a line such as ¡°many young men would stare at her great beauty¡±. That was him. A cardboard cutout living in a universe where great men and women held the power of gods.

    But at least he was good at math. A few years of high school ensured he could calculate with the best of these uptight savages. The class transitioned to more of the telepathy stuff and, as usual, Volithur took that time to meditate on the nature of cosmic energy. The Sergeant had told him that he needed to reflect on its nature instead of just forcing mental cultivation. Inaccuracies in his conception would create inefficiencies in his practice. Or, to put it more bluntly, all of his hard work at mental cultivation wasn¡¯t doing much good because of his ignorance.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Unfortunately, Volithur didn¡¯t know how to meditate on the nature of cosmic energy. He had come to understand that any type of mental discipline was beneficial to the soul. The practice of meditating brought a momentary peace to his existence that he appreciated. So he continued with the practice. Mostly during the third segment of class.

    Society, script, and spirit. The three S¡¯s of education, as they said among the Xian. Script comprised reading, writing, and ¡®calculations¡¯. Spirit was mental enhancement and band communication. And society, paradoxically the most ridiculous and the most essential, was the art of interacting with nobility.

    At the end of class, the Head Scribe halted Volilthur¡¯s escape by stepping into his path.

    Volithur bowed. ¡°How may I be of assistance, Master Scribe?¡±

    ¡°The very same question I am considering, Ward Harridan. Your acting skill is lacking.¡±

    ¡°I apologize, Master Scribe?¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, Ward Harridan, today¡¯s events may prove to be fortuitous. A talent for calculation is of minor use outside of scribe work, but there is one unusual circumstance where it can be of great benefit. The local region holds an academic competition annually. The fifth household of the Shaocheth family has not historically done well at the calculation event.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s sense of opportunity began to twinge. ¡°I am quite good at calculations, Master Scribe, but the Marshal wants me to focus on my cultivation.¡±

    The Head Scribe¡¯s eyes twinkled. ¡°I understand your plight, Ward Harridan. You would require compensation for the time you were forced to be away from your training. That isn¡¯t an unreasonable request, in my estimation. We can barter over the value of your time once I establish your level of proficiency.¡±

    The Head Scribe proceeded to write a series of math problems on the board. They covered addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division of large numbers. When the chalk was presented to him, Volithur snatched it up and proceeded to rapidly solve each problem. Upon returning the chalk, he received a nod of respect from his teacher.

    ¡°Do you know of variable calculations?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything by that name, Master Scribe.¡±

    The Head Scribe stepped closer to the board and wrote out a simple algebra problem.

    Volithur took the chalk from his hand and solved it, then turned to make eye contact. The Head Scribe clasped his hands together in excitement. ¡°Hazen on spelling, Harridan on calculations, Ulysses on debate, and Khana on recital.¡±

    ¡°Assuming I¡¯m able to ¨C¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, Ward Harridan, I¡¯m aware of your desire to extort resources from this opportunity. I would think less of a commoner in your position who didn¡¯t make the effort. I can offer you one tea powder elixir. That is coming out of my own allotment, so do not expect anything more.¡±

    Volithur considered the offer. He already was set to receive a tea powder elixir monthly. Would receiving a second for a month make much of a difference? He didn¡¯t know if this was a good deal or if he was being ripped off. He also couldn¡¯t tell if the Head Scribe was open to negotiations. Bottom line, he needed resources.

    ¡°Master Scribe, how long would I be away from my training?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a three day trip, Ward Harridan. You would be kept in comfort during that time and gain the respect of your fellow students.¡±

    ¡°The elixir you mentioned. Would that be provided daily?¡±

    The Head Scribe scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t act the fool, Harridan. A single elixir is the most I will offer and enough to justify your efforts. At your level of cultivation, this is a deal you cannot afford to pass up.¡±

    Volithur sighed. ¡°I graciously accept, Master Scribe.¡±

    ¡°Graciously¡­¡± The Head Scribe looked like he was ready to chew rocks. ¡°If you want more, then ensure our team makes the final three. That earns you a full hour in the cosmic chamber of the Evergreen Institute.¡±

    ¡°What happens if we get first place?¡±

    ¡°The Evergreen Institute¡¯s team will take first as they always have, Ward Harridan. They hold this competition to demonstrate their academic superiority, using their cosmic chamber as incentive for the rest of us to send teams.¡±

 Interlude: Evelyn

    Her realm was about to become functional. It was quite an achievement. Evelyn thought she might be the first person on all of Earth to reach level four in her soul. Not through her own merit, of course. She wasn¡¯t really the achieving type. Somehow, though, the fact that she did most of her living through her imagination instead of the real world was about to pay off.

    Mostly because her dream girl was such a big deal. A huge deal, actually. There were people online who bragged about remembering a meeting with the Sage of Foresight from their dreams. Evelyn recalled being that woman.

    Better than that, Evelyn recently experienced the moment that Levinia gained her insight into possibility. In her dreams Levinia was still trying to come to terms with the best way to use her abilities. Fortunately, Evelyn had ideas of her own. She was going to become rich. Card games or lottery tickets or sports betting. How didn¡¯t really matter.

    She would make enough money to avoid ever working another day in her life. And avoid marrying some guy who would become an annoying asshole when he thought he owned her. That¡¯s how she¡¯d always imagined her future playing out. Pressure from her parents to ¡®make something¡¯ of herself forced her to get a job and move out. Too busy with adulting, she had to drop out of the band and her besties all drifted away. Lonely, she would date around a bit before settling with someone who seemed acceptable. Then they¡¯d both become disillusioned after the courtship ended, discovering themselves stuck in something other than what they hoped for.

    No thanks. She would rather be a waste of space than a miserable cog in the machine of society. And, in her opinion, the very best way to be a waste of space was to be independently wealthy. Depending on how successful she was at seeing the future, Evelyn might be able to house all her closest friends under one roof. That would be epic. She imagined their time in that hypothetical house as ¡®young Golden Girls¡¯.

    First she needed to get her realm working, though. Levinia was a level six when her insight came, which gave her dream girl four times the oomph to build a realm compared to what Evelyn had to work with. Though Evelyn felt that she was relatively strong for a level four. The moment she inherited her insight, the illusory energy of the universe just poured into Evelyn as if she¡¯d been anointed as someone special. Arahant power was funny like that, with the world recognizing the narrative might of individuals. The joke was on the illusory energy, though, because Evelyn didn¡¯t plan to do shit.

    When she felt like her inherited insights were encoded into her realm well enough for a test run, Evelyn closed her eyes and let her mental sight drift. She set an intention of her winning money at the casino game with the dice. The random blips of light from behind her eyelids gave way to a brief vision of a dealer pushing chips at her. That was it.

    ¡°Well, that does not give me a lot to work with it, now does it?¡±

    A two second vision of her receiving chips. It was technically exactly what she asked for, but it was completely useless. She needed to know how she won. Evelyn drifted into a couple more visions, but she rapidly came to the conclusion that this wasn¡¯t really working. None of the visions lasted more than two seconds. That must be her limit at level four. Honestly, she should be happy her talent worked at all.

    So casino games were out. Evelyn glanced towards the tiny powered off television nestled among the random knickknacks decorating her room. She would try to see lottery outcomes. Squinting her eyes closed, Evelyn concentrated on the first number for that night¡¯s drawing. Then the second. And so on. When she finally had all the numbers scribbled down, Evelyn ran to the gas station convenience store to make her purchase.

    The hours before the drawing were tense. Evelyn paced her room with the television on, waiting for the revelation of her wealth. When the moment came, she stood way too close and held her ticket beside the screen. The first number was seven. Only she¡¯d predicted sixteen. That¡­ shit, why was the first number wrong?

    Evelyn numbly followed along. About half of her guesses were right. That wasn¡¯t enough to win any money. Still better than random guesses? Maybe? She didn¡¯t actually know how odds or statistics or any of that worked. Was her insight not strong enough? Was her level too low? Did she need to use her realm in a specific way?

    She hadn¡¯t actually seen much of Levinia¡¯s use of the insight yet. Evelyn leaped into implementing her half-baked plan without waiting for pointers from her dream mentor. After all, she had the true insight. It was an absolute certainty that could not be wrong. It could be incomplete, certainly, but the insight itself glowed with an aura of infallibility in her mind. It connected with something deeper within ultimate reality and was more real than the entire universe. She could never doubt that insight.

    But she had plenty of experience doubting herself. Evelyn deflated and collapsed back on her bed. On top of her guitar. ¡°Oh, no, no, no! Sorry, baby! Evie didn¡¯t mean it!¡± She lovingly stroked at the all-black beauty and its metal strings as she apologized. It hadn¡¯t cost much because it was just a used Yamaha. She still loved it. The arching contours of the instrument was mildly suggestive of devil horns. Perfect for a goth girl playing heavy metal.

    Even if her money scheme paid off, she didn¡¯t intend to buy a new guitar. The point of having money wasn¡¯t to have nice things, after all, it was to avoid the drudgery of normal life. And a better instrument wouldn¡¯t improve her playing. She wasn¡¯t very good at her hobby and that fact had an odd comfort to it. She could just have fun instead of stressing about performances. Evelyn and her girls were the absolute worst metal band in town and that was just perfect to her.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Ugh, so it¡¯s come down to sports betting. I hope I don¡¯t have to watch very many games. That might be a fate worse than death.¡± Evelyn placed her wrist to her forehead and went limp on her bed as if the thought of watching a football game caused her to faint. She cracked an eye open to look at her guitar as if seeking approval for her act. It wasn¡¯t impressed. That was very metal of it to be so disaffected of its owner¡¯s ultimate fate.

    ¡°You know,¡± she told the guitar, ¡°Levinia got her insight while fantasizing about ways she could get into bed with some married guy. Scheming to get rich is, like, downright noble in comparison. Even if I have to watch sports.¡±

    Evelyn closed her eyes and imagined seeing a football score. Which she promptly did. That caused her to realize that she didn¡¯t know what game the score came from. Hell, she didn¡¯t even know the names of more than a handful of teams. Her eyes popped open. ¡°This is ridiculous. If I wanted to work for my money, I¡¯d have a real job!¡±

    From a nearby room she heard the voice of her mother. ¡°Evie? Did I hear you say something about getting a real job?¡±

    ¡°Perish the thought, mother! I utter those words only as the vilest of curses!¡±

    ¡°You need to get one eventually,¡± her vicious mother threatened.

    It was too soon to use the fainting gag again and she didn¡¯t even have an audience, so Evelyn closed her eyes and looked towards the future. This time she used a rather simple intention: she wanted to see a big news story. The idea was that she could spot ways to make money. Like maybe stock market stuff?

    The random flashes of light from behind her eyelids gave way to a stunning image. On a television screen, a scorpion lifted what looked like a toy aircraft carrier with a single claw and chopped it in half.

    ¡°What. The. Fuck.¡± Evelyn blinked up at her ceiling. That had been weird. Had her intention somehow shifted towards entertainment? She knew it hadn¡¯t. That was from the news.

    When she closed her eyes again, her intention was more directed: what was the deal with that scorpion? The vision came to her. An angry red tear across a blue sky. Gray pus dribbled from its corners, falling free towards the swelling sea below and morphing into a flock of birds that flew back into the sky. The vision ended.

    ¡°This. No. Why? Damn it.¡± Evelyn scrubbed her face aggressively, smearing her makeup. She would need to reapply concealer and eye shadow before their show that night. If they had a show. Monster invasions might be a joke to the Arahant on Maya, but Earth was an unempowered world. People leveraging the knowledge from dreams didn¡¯t appreciably change that fact. Their world had no real power. They were soft targets. Miasma breaching the envelope of their universe to become monsters¡­ that was an apocalypse right there.

    She closed her eyes again and summoned up another vision. The scorpion tore through the aircraft carrier again. If she wasn¡¯t making assumptions based on their relative sizes, Evelyn had to admit that the ¡®toy¡¯ aircraft carrier looked awful realistic. How big would a scorpion have to be to snip snip a massive naval vessel? It honestly didn¡¯t even matter. The creature was too big for Earth to handle.

    Evelyn saw several more visions before she had to start getting ready. The scorpion would eventually make landfall, she saw. It didn¡¯t even really fight. It just walked through city centers, casually toppling skyscrapers as a mist of miasma poisoned the fleeing humans. Random monsters of more reasonable size joined in the rampage, slaying individual targets with manic glee. The descendants of Tiamat sure hated humans.

    She reapplied her makeup and loaded her gear into her beater car while in a daze. The girls embraced her with giddy excitement when she arrived at the venue. Evelyn emerged from her despair to seize the spirit of the event. The bar they were performing at was nicer than their usual haunts. And if history was any guide, they would never be allowed back.

    Megan would strip down to her underwear during the show to spice things up and maybe even be caught doing coke in the bathroom. Brittney would suddenly start flirting with random men when her boyfriend showed up, causing him to get possessive and make a scene. Evelyn would drink too much and become a mess falling all over the place. Poor Danielle was always guilty by association. Served her bestie right for being friends with such deplorables.

    They set up their equipment in the corner. Evelyn waited until Brittney followed Megan into the bathroom to make her own move. She approached the bar with Danielle and leaned forward far enough to catch the bartender¡¯s attention. ¡°Free drinks for the band?¡±

    The bartender folded his arms. ¡°The owner said one free round.¡±

    Danielle gave her most charming smile. ¡°Thanks! Just a Miller Lite for me.¡±

    Evelyn wasn¡¯t going to be so cheap as that. She was way too sober for the end of the world. ¡°I want a drink with a lot of alcohol in it.¡±

    The bartender rolled his eyes, obviously not impressed. ¡°What do you like?¡±

    ¡°Getting tipsy.¡±

    ¡°Flavor wise, what do you like?¡±

    She considered that a moment. ¡°I want something that tastes like bad decisions.¡±

    The bartender¡¯s annoyed demeanor cracked. He almost smiled. ¡°A negroni, then.¡±

    ¡°Make it three. The other girls need their free drinks, too.¡±

    Oh, boy. The bartender looked almost gleeful at that news. Evelyn suspected this was going to be a massive mistake. A minute later, she tried the negroni and her face scrunched up in agony. ¡°So punishing!¡± She turned off her brain and slurped down the first drink.

    The other two she carried back to hide near her guitar case.

    ¡°Love you, E, but you¡¯re an idiot.¡±

    Evelyn threw an arm around Danielle¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Love you, too, D. Let¡¯s party tonight like it¡¯s the end of the mother fucking world.¡±

 Chapter 20

    Volithur sat across from the Sergeant as he explained the deal he had made.

    ¡°A tea powder elixir is more than worth your time. I will clear your absence with the Marshal. I¡¯m certain he will be more than happy to let the Head Scribe fund part of your cultivation cost. The real question is whether you have a chance to win an hour in a cosmic chamber.¡± The Sergeant shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t let you go there without at least trying to teach you aura cultivation. You said the trip happens in five days? That would be plenty of time for most students¡­¡±

    Left unsaid was that, unlike most students, Volithur appeared to be terrible at every aspect of cultivation. His mental cultivation was so inefficient it knocked him unconscious every time he tried it without bringing in more than a sliver of energy. His bodily cultivation did nothing unless he was stuffed full of power with elixirs, and then he wasted most of the energy.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t be terrible at everything, could he? Maybe aura cultivation would be the thing he was good at. The Sergeant began using his aura to awaken Volithur¡¯s, which felt a lot like being suffocated beneath a lead blanket.

    Nothing awoke in Volithur that day. Nor the next. Though he was asked to stay after class to work one on one with the Head Scribe. They spent an entire hour going over ¡®variable calculations¡¯, during which time he learned the idiosyncrasies of the mathematical notation used by the Xian and convinced the Head Scribe that he was ready for the competition.

    Two days later, the Marshal came to see Volithur with the tea powder elixir he was to receive the following week brought in advance. The hope was that he would either attune his soul or become familiar enough with cosmic energy to utilize his aura. After an intense session of bodily cultivation where he drew out every bit of the energy that he could, everyone resigned themselves to disappointment.

    ¡°There is a chance you won¡¯t win the chance to use the cosmic chamber, so this isn¡¯t a big deal,¡± the Sergeant said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m so bad at this,¡± Volithur muttered.

    The Sergeant patted him on the arm. ¡°Everyone is born with some degree of talent in these things, Ward Harridan. Yours is less than most. That is unfortunate for you, but it is not a moral failing. You will simply have to work harder to make up for what you lack.¡±

    Volithur nodded agreeably to hide his frustration. Just work harder. Of course. None of his efforts had gained any traction so far, but maybe if he tried more it would all magically fall into place.

    He received the next tea powder elixir from the Head Scribe the day before he left, then cultivated it intensely that evening after dinner, straining to the utmost in hopes that he would attune his soul. His efforts proved ineffective once more. He found himself thinking that he wouldn¡¯t blame the household if they decided not to waste any more resources on him. He was clearly a bad investment.

    The dour mood stayed with him through the night, then Volithur suppressed it as much as possible when he reported to the library after a quick breakfast. Already there were the Head Scribe, three of his fellow students, and an older man everyone stood in deference to. Using the lessons from the society module of his classes, Volithur identified the proper place to insert himself into the group as the member with least standing. He could have issued an apology for being late ¨C even though he actually wasn¡¯t ¨C but the leader seemed interested in a small pamphlet in his hands and interrupting the silence may prove the larger breach of etiquette.

    Finally, the older man spoke. ¡°Khana, you should definitely consider the poem by Astrinski. It possesses a delightful ambiguity.¡±

    ¡°Yes, uncle,¡± the girl said.

    ¡°Excellent advice, Master Rowan,¡± the Head Scribe said with a bow.

    The man was obviously a member of the family, but Volithur didn¡¯t have enough clues to piece together how prominent ¡®Master Rowan¡¯ was within the hierarchy. It truly didn¡¯t matter. Volithur couldn¡¯t afford to displease anyone, so he had to respond to every member of the family with simpering obedience.

    Master Rowan glanced about the group. ¡°We seem to all be here, Scribe.¡±

    ¡°All are here now, Master Rowan.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± Master Rowan reached into a satchel at his side and pulled out several vials. ¡°I requested elixirs from the Castellan to celebrate our departure.¡±

    Master Rowan distributed vials of brown liquid to Khana, Ulysses, the Head Scribe, and himself ¨C vials Volithur recognized as tea powder elixir. Then Master Rowan placed two vials of clear liquid ¨C moon water elixir ¨C into the Head Scribe¡¯s hand to be handed over to Volithur and Hazen. ¡°May our outing bring honor to the household,¡± Master Rowan said as he raised his vial and downed it.

    Everyone else followed his example, then everyone began discarding their empty vials on the library table. They then made their way outside to board a waiting transport. A pilot greeted their group cheerfully, held the door and closed it once they were settled, and then entered the front area with a promise of a smooth and quick trip.

    Master Rowan closed his eyes. ¡°Take advantage of the elixirs during the ride.¡±

    Volithur had seated himself in the seat furthest from the front, beside Hazen. The two of them obediently folded their hands in their laps and closed their eyes. Volithur went to work at the task of bodily cultivating the cosmic energy in his system, but there wasn¡¯t much work to do. Moon water elixir was a joke. Volithur understood the gesture of being included in the odd pre-flight toast had been a generous one by the standards of Xian culture. He had been nominally allowed to join a ritual with his betters, which was not at all the standard.

    Their flight only lasted half an hour, then they were touching down at the Evergreen Institute. When they emerged from the transport, Volithur split his attention between ensuring he obeyed the convoluted rules of Xian decorum and studying the Institute. Based on the name, he had expected pine-needled trees. Instead, he saw large, severe buildings constructed of a gray-green stone. There were also trellises with ivy woven through them to create covered walks. No trees, though.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Armies of laborers were engaged in upkeep of the grounds and other groups of visitors could be seen walking towards an open-air amphitheater. Master Rowan led them in the same direction, occasionally announcing his observations to his niece Khana or the Head Scribe as if receiving his thoughts was a great honor. The recipients of said observations reinforced his opinion with feigned interest. Volithur found himself impressed at their acting, particularly Khana.

    Volithur had never given the girl much consideration due to the fact that any time he had the opportunity to observe Khana he also had the far superior option of staring at the intensely beautiful Rolanda. Now, though, Khana benefited from being the only girl in the group. She was a short thing, curvy in the right ways, with features that were more cute than beautiful. Though there was a certain vivacity about her that Volithur enjoyed. Her face was exceedingly expressive, mouth and brows and eyes constantly in motion as she reacted to everything she heard.

    Khana¡¯s pants, shirt, and jacket had also obviously been tailored to be more suggestive without revealing more flesh than would be appropriate. It occurred to him that his habit of intensely studying noble girls probably had the potential to get him in a lot of trouble. Still. Khana was an acceptable substitute in Rolanda¡¯s absence.

    The nobles of their group sat on thick cushions placed on the stone while Hazen and Volithur stood in the back with the other commoners. The Head Scribe knelt beside Master Rowan, among the nobles but not partaking of their comforts. Damn status obsessed Xian, Volithur thought, finding himself angry on the Head Scribe¡¯s behalf. While he himself might be an untalented waste of resources, the Head Scribe was a valuable employee of the household.

    Hazen leaned close to him to speak private words. ¡°Resources will be unofficially withheld from the two of us if our team does poorly this year.¡±

    Volithur sighed. ¡°Are Ulysses and Khana any good at their events?¡±

    ¡°Ulysses is quite studious and Khana is charming.¡±

    ¡°Can Ulysses debate? Can Khana recite poetry?¡±

    Hazen made eye contact and said nothing, which could be translated from servant speech to mean ¡®those two are useless hacks dragging our team performance down¡¯. Volithur nodded to indicate he had understood the silent communique. ¡°So we are either the unsung heroes or the publicly shamed incompetents.¡±

    ¡°I have some skill in spelling. Last year I came in second place. My father has had me drilling relentlessly these past months in preparation to repeat that performance. If you can achieve a top five ranking, our team¡¯s overall ranking would satisfy the pride of the family.¡±

    ¡°The Scribe seems to think I will do better than fifth place.¡±

    ¡°I would welcome such an outcome,¡± Hazen said. ¡°But you have to understand that the Shaocheth family does not prioritize academic pursuits. Though you may not see much proof of it in the fifth household, the family¡¯s primary business is war. The sobriquet of our master is, after all, the Lord General.¡±

    Sobriquet? Volithur filed that question away for later.

    ¡°Are the competing teams also representing lords?¡±

    ¡°While most teams are comprised of nobles, only a few of the teams come from a Lord¡¯s household. The petty nobles around here are descended from deceased Lords or have been disinherited in cost cutting moves. The Evergreen Institute trains petty nobles to be scribes and clerks. It¡¯s considered mildly scandalous for a noble to enter into service, but the alternative is taking up a trade. Working with the mind is preferable to working with the hands if you have to work.¡±

    On the stage at the center of the amphitheater, a tall woman began to levitate high enough to draw everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Welcome, noble guests, to the Evergreen Institute¡¯s annual Academic Tournament. I, Stella Ilvar, am honored to be your host once more. We invited thirty-two of our friends to participate in our traditional festivities. The games are not only a chance for your students to win prizes, but for the Evergreen Institute to demonstrate the quality of our educational services.

    ¡°Beyond the academic competition itself, there are a number of social functions planned for your enjoyment. It is truly my hope that each of you remember our event with great fondness. Each day we have a morning tea, full lunch, banquet dinner, and evening snack prepared. This morning and afternoon we will hold qualifying examinations to eliminate half of the teams. Then the first night, which is tonight, we have planned a formal dance.¡±

    Beside him, Hazen cursed. ¡°Merciless fate!¡±

    ¡°The second night, following the initial two rounds of the tournament, students of the Institute will put on a show for all of you. There is to be a performance of the play Celestial Vengeance, followed by a choral performance, after which a duel of wits shall be held between two of our esteemed instructors. The third day the final four teams will compete against one another in a round robin format, which will determine the final placing. Members of the top three teams will receive an hour in our cosmic chamber. The third place team will receive a trophy and a teaspoon of sea salt from Tian. The second place team will receive a trophy, a teaspoon of Tian sea salt, and a cultivation pebble. The first place team will receive a trophy, teaspoon of salt, and a silver plasma elixir.¡±

    The crowd clapped for that. As curious as Volithur was about the silver plasma elixir, he didn¡¯t think his team had a chance of receiving it. The more immediate concern was Hazen¡¯s reaction to the formal dance news. ¡°Hazen, are we expected to serve food at the dance?¡±

    Hazen shook his head. ¡°Worse, Harridan. We are expected to attend as guests. Once we are noticed, the two of us will be dancing all night with every noble girl too ugly to pair up with a peer. And do not for a moment think you can refuse them, not to eat, not to use the facilities, not even to ease the bruises from clumsy feet.¡±

    Volithur paled. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to dance.¡±

    Hazen groaned. ¡°So now the Scribe will make me practice dancing with you.¡±

    The woman on stage went on to mention the sponsor of each of the thirty-two teams in attendance, then gave a short blurb about the many educational programs offered by the Evergreen Institute, before giving instructions on how to find their assigned guest housing.

    They waited for the rest of their group to exit, whereupon they fell into formation at the back. The ¡®quaint cottage¡¯ set aside for their exclusive use had six separate bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large lounge. It also came with a dedicated servant, who introduced himself and promised to run errands on their behalf at any time of day or night.

    It was at this point that Hazen approached and bowed deeply to Master Rowan. The man gestured graciously. ¡°Speak, child.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Rowan. The news of the dance was most unexpected and I do not believe Ward Harridan is familiar with the etiquette of the situation.¡±

    Master Rowan exchanged a dumbfounded glance with the Head Scribe. ¡°Suggestions?¡±

    The Head Scribe winced. ¡°We could leave Ward Harridan at the cottage. Surely no one would notice.¡±

    Master Rowan pursed his lips. ¡°That would be rather uncharitable of us. There are not many commoners in attendance at these functions and noble boys can be overly discerning in their selection of partner. The Ward should attend. Find some time to instruct him on the basics of ballroom etiquette. And thank you, Hazen, for bringing this to our attention in a timely manner. I will remember to compliment you to your father.¡±

    The Head Scribe bowed smartly. ¡°As you say, Master Rowan.¡±

 Chapter 21

    Volithur held hands with Hazen and stepped forward and back in time, their hands rising out to each side like they were flapping wings. Khana laughed at the spectacle while the Head Scribe marked time with a steady clap. This was the third practice session of the day and Volithur now knew two dances well enough to only slightly embarrass himself.

    He had passed the qualifying examination for calculations with a perfect score, earning him a congratulatory handshake from Master Rowan and a respectful nod from the Head Scribe. The other three had done well in their examinations and their team had been seeded favorably for the contest. The first team they had been matched up against would be an easy win. The second match the next day could go either way, but everyone seemed optimistic. On the basis of the qualifying exams, they had established themselves in the top half of the participants. Winning just one more match would be a respectable enough showing that no one would be disappointed. If they won the one after that, they would be in the top four, which was beyond expectation.

    Of course, Volithur wanted to reach the top three to get into the cosmic chamber. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what a cosmic chamber was, but the way it had been dangled as a prize made it obvious that he should want it. The Castellan had promised him fifteen minutes in the cosmic chamber of the fifth household, but Volithur wasn¡¯t sure how he could collect on that when he was so obviously failing at cultivation.

    ¡°That should be sufficient,¡± the Head Scribe announced.

    ¡°Aw,¡± Khana whined, ¡°I was enjoying the show.¡±

    Hazen lifted Volithur¡¯s hand towards her. ¡°I¡¯m sure my lovely partner would not mind if a beautiful lady chose to cut in.¡±

    Khana snatched up Volithur¡¯s hand. ¡°Give us a beat, Hazen.¡±

    Under the eye of a subtly disapproving Head Scribe, while Hazen sat on a sofa and dutifully clapped, Volithur repeated the movements he had been drilling off and on throughout the day. Partnering with a pretty girl instead of a surly boy proved to make all the difference in the world. Volithur barely managed to avoid stumbling, obsessed over his clammy hands, and couldn¡¯t figure out where he was supposed to look. He most definitely shouldn¡¯t be trying to peek down Khana¡¯s shirt. Definitely not. Eye contact seemed almost as perilous.

    After a few minutes, Khana released one of his hands and lifted the other one to spin under it and lean away before pulling herself back in with a warm laugh, switching seamlessly to the only other dance he knew, which involved a lot of circling with hands on each other¡¯s shoulders. It was the more complex of the two, with a lot of convoluted maneuvers thrown in to needless complicate the operation.

    Khana broke off from dancing soon enough. She patted him on the chest with her fingers in a manner which Volithur could see as being either flirtatious or condescending. In the world he found himself in, those might not be mutually exclusive things. ¡°Ward Harridan, your skill at calculations far exceeds your skill at dancing.¡± The sparkle in her eye made Volithur suspect there might be a tad more flirt in her manner than would be appropriate.

    To cover over the heat in his cheeks, Volithur gave a deep bow. ¡°I thank you for the tolerance you¡¯ve shown me, Master Khana.¡±

    She skipped over to the sofa. ¡°Your turn, Hazen.¡±

    ¡°But I was saving myself for another round with Ward Harridan,¡± the boy joked.

    Volithur thought he saw more stiffness in Hazen¡¯s posture than should be warranted. A glance to the Head Scribe revealed that the discomfort was shared. The Head Scribe cleared his throat. ¡°I need to go over some etiquette around eating before the dance begins, Master Khana.¡±

    She deflated a bit. ¡°Well, it was fun for a moment, at least. I¡¯ll be in my room.¡±

    The Head Scribe squinted at Volithur. ¡°Well. We probably should cover the topic. You chew with your mouth open, Ward Harridan. You use the wrong hand for the fork. You sit hunched over.¡±

    Thus began a marathon of instructions on how to properly comport himself around food. It only ended when Master Rowan emerged from his nap and announced they would head over early. The Head Scribe rushed to compliment the idea and they set off.

    Their destination was not the dining hall with private booths that they had taken their meals earlier in the day, but rather what appeared to be a massive cathedral. Its interior was an immense space with smaller auxiliary rooms along two walls opposite each other. Copper sheeting along the lower sections of the vaulted ceiling shimmered with reflected limelight.

    Snack tables and drink stations were located far from the entrance, tables were scattered along the sides, a trio of musicians strummed their instruments from a corner stage, and the central region was wide open. A girl with a cleft palate swooped down on their group like a predator, eyed Volithur and Hazen, then imperiously held out her hand to the other boy. Hazen bowed and graciously accepted the hand. If Volithur had not been in conversations with Hazen earlier in the day, he would have believed the acceptance entirely voluntary.

    Khana giggled and nudged Volithur in the ribs. ¡°Like blood in the water, Ward Harridan. There will be a frenzy of foul beasts seeking to devour ¡®those who cannot decline¡¯.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not the only commoners,¡± Volithur whined.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only two who showed up early.¡±

    A quick glance about the room proved the truth of that assertion. Based on demeanor and positioning, it was easy to determine commoners. Volithur considered adjusting his stance to disguise his status for half a second. Deceptive posturing would bring far more trouble than it was worth.

    A plain-looking girl with a lame leg shuffled towards him, not quite making eye contact. ¡°You are Harridan representing Shaocheth, I believe?¡±

    ¡°You are correct, Master¡­¡±

    ¡°Just Jemmi.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Master Just Jemmi.¡±

    Jemmi met his eyes. ¡°Are you a jester, then?¡±

    ¡°Apparently I¡¯m no better at jokes than I am with dancing. Thank God for calculations.¡±

    Jemmi blinked. ¡°Did you say ¡®thank God¡¯? Are you from a religious world?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m from a world that was transitioning from religious to secular. I don¡¯t have any religious beliefs myself.¡±

    ¡°Good. I will have someone interesting to speak with during this event.¡± She hesitated. ¡°If you care to, that is. I cannot dance because of my leg, so if you prefer to scuff up the floor with young ladies, I would not fault you.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Volithur glanced about to make sure none of his party was close enough to overhear him. ¡°Are you suggesting that if I go with you I won¡¯t have to dance tonight?¡±

    Jemmi smiled. ¡°I won¡¯t promise to shield you all night, Harridan. But if you would join me at a table it would make me look marginally less pathetic to my peers.¡±

    He took her arm and they slowly moved towards one of the smaller tables. Jemmi rubbed her lame leg as she reclined in her seat. ¡°So how did you arrive as a Ward of the Lord General?¡±

    The question short-circuited his brain. Weeks spent learning in the Head Scribe¡¯s class had drilled proper behavior into his head, which had been constantly reinforced simply by existing in a society where the only safety to be had was studiously following conventions. He didn¡¯t want to minimize the atrocities that had been done to his parents and his communities, but he also could not tell the truth. Not to a noble.

    ¡°I would rather not speak on those matters,¡± Volithur finally said.

    Jemmi nodded, a shrewd gleam in her eyes. ¡°They named Thrakkar Shaocheth the Lord General for a reason.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have a very good grasp on the¡­ sobriquets given to Lords.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a process every bit as convoluted as it is informal,¡± Jemmi said. ¡°The simplified version is that the peers of a Lord grant them a moniker that captures the essence of the value they provide to the Amaratti Xian.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, but Amaratti Xian?¡±

    ¡°Amarat is one of the major nations on the world of Tian. There are about a hundred and thirty Lords, one of which is your ¡®benefactor¡¯ and master of the Shaocheth family. By treaty, no nation on Tian may claim exclusive right over foreign worlds, but individual lords skirt around the issue by placing extended households that manage vast stretches of territory. And, to directly answer your question, an Amaratti Xian is a term strictly applied to a member of the Amarat nation.

    ¡°You and I do not qualify as Amaratti Xian. I was born on this world, which the natives once called Homeland and the Xian renamed New Mart. You, technically, aren¡¯t even a Xian yet. You appear close to attuning to cosmic energy. Perhaps if you get some time in the Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber.¡±

    Volithur nodded along to her explanation, thrilled to finally have found someone both willing and able to clearly explain things in a way that took his ignorance into account. ¡°Going back to the original issue, what is the meaning behind ¡®Lord General¡¯?¡±

    Jemmi tilted her head. ¡°General is a job leading an army. Thrakkar Shaocheth uses his spectacularly large cosmic spheres to rapidly field more troops than any other Xian from Amarat. He brings an army everywhere he goes, thus he is the Lord General. Other lords hold the rank of general, but they have not been granted that sobriquet.¡±

    The simmering resentment in his heart began to grow, stirred to life by recollections of an army slaughtering its way through his city. He had always blamed the Lord General for what happened since the man obviously had such obvious power and status. Now, though, his rage felt truly justified. The Lord General was not following the tradition of his people when he unleashed hordes of murderers, rapists, and abductors upon worlds. The mass atrocities were his personal signature, his mark of distinction.

    Best to think of something else before he said something that could haunt him.

    ¡°What are some of the other sobriquets?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see. The Lord Annihilator, of course. His cosmic bolt can destroy an entire city on an unempowered world. He¡¯s done it a few times to prove he could, but mostly he fights the Arahant. Or he did. They¡¯ve withdrawn from the fights over unempowered worlds since the fall of Aes. I suppose the Lord Annihilator will need to target Jinn now.

    ¡°There¡¯s the Lord Striker. He specializes in smaller, more targeted cosmic bolts. Tactical strikes, if you will. The Lord Windblade manifests a massive sword that he wields through his kinetic domain. They say it looks like a tornado spinning about him, shredding stones as easily as people. The Lord Platinum¡­ she produces the most potent elixirs in existence. The specifics of the process are not discussed in polite company. Mostly lords earn a sobriquet through blood and war.¡± Jemmi waved her hand. ¡°But now I feel it is my turn to ask questions of you.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°How are you so good at calculations? Is it a natural talent or did the schools of your world emphasize study of the subject?¡±

    Volithur smiled. ¡°The academics of my world were quite good in comparison. In truth, I was a mediocre student.¡±

    ¡°How fascinating. The Evergreen Institute thinks a lot of itself, but the average output of another world¡¯s school system matches up well against their best. Is it the same in other academic disciplines? How would you fare in spelling or debate or recital?¡±

    ¡°Poorly in all of those. There are slight differences in how words were spelled on my world, so my teacher assumes I am a poor speller. Honestly, it is a miracle we speak the same language.¡±

    Jemmi waved away his amazement. ¡°It¡¯s just resonance.¡±

    ¡°Resonance?¡±

    ¡°I thought it was my turn to ask the questions. I¡¯ll answer, but then you owe me. Deal?¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    ¡°The five true worlds resonate together. And all the unempowered worlds resonate with the true worlds. Humans have the same shape, the same structure of society, and even the same way of speaking. To some extent, at least. I assume your world resonated more strongly with the Jinn home world than the Xian home world.¡±

    ¡°Would that mean the world I am from was just an echo of those true worlds?¡±

    ¡°People use a lot of analogies in resonance theory. Echoes is one. Reflections is another. Shadows. But those all fail to capture the phenomenon because echoes and reflections and shadows are temporary things entirely dependent on their cause. The unempowered worlds are real places. They arise from primordial chaos and are influenced by the true worlds. The influence is significant, but it isn¡¯t all encompassing. You are a real person from a real place.¡±

    Volilthur nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone has been this nice to me since I came to this world.¡±

    ¡°That is terrible. While I know my kind of cavalier approach to interacting with commoners isn¡¯t very proper, a man of your qualities deserves to be treated with dignity. Assuming you are a man of your word and will allow me my questions.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Ask anything.¡±

    ¡°Did the school system of your world prepare you for debates?¡±

    ¡°Not generally. There were clubs where people could practice debating, and coaches who would prepare politicians for public debates. But it wasn¡¯t a major part of getting an education on my world.¡±

    ¡°What about recital?¡±

    ¡°Oh no. I don¡¯t even understand how that is a thing here, to be honest. Reading poems isn¡¯t very academic. At least not to me.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s only in mathematics that someone of your background would excel in these contests.¡±

    ¡°For the most part. I mean, there were kids who entered spelling contests on my world. A lot of them had trained their minds to the point that they could almost instantly memorize the spelling of new words. Someone like that would probably beat everyone here if they had a few months to practice.¡±

    Jemmi tapped her chin as if in thought. ¡°Calculations, spelling, and debate. A team from your world with the right experts would gain first place if they fielded someone with a talent for recital. Someone like myself.¡±

    Volithur smacked his forehead. ¡°And now I feel like an idiot for insulting recital.¡±

    ¡°Good! I don¡¯t want you to lose your intellectual humility when you wow everyone tomorrow with your academic skills.¡±

    ¡°What other questions do you have?¡±

    Jemmi pursed her lips. ¡°Would you bring me a glass of mulled wine?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the kind of question I was expecting, but I would be honored.¡±

 Chapter 22

    Volithur didn¡¯t make it back with Jemmi¡¯s wine before another girl accosted him with the demand to dance. He managed to convince his assailant to allow him to deliver the beverage, but a short delay was the best he could do. Jemmi took the glass, glanced meaningfully at the new girl, and said ¡°stop by later if you get a chance¡±.

    He did not get that chance.

    The girl who had snagged him while he was on his drink run monopolized his time for three dances before losing interest as it became clear he did not dance well. She was almost pretty, avoiding such a designation due to the cruel imperiousness she carried herself with. True to form, she found another girl to pass Volithur off to so that he couldn¡¯t have any free time. He knew that was the case because she explained to him that he was being punished for not dancing better.

    The next girl possessed a more pleasant demeanor. Unfortunately, her predecessor had gone out of her way to choose the least attractive and most desperate partner available. Silva bore signs of pox along her cheeks, had traces of facial hair, and flashed yellow teeth every time her mouth opened. She also laughed like a hyena at her own jokes and constantly solicited compliments from him on everything ¨C ¡®yes, Silva, your eyes are beautiful¡¯, ¡®I agree that you dance very well¡¯, ¡®you are definitely the funniest person here tonight¡¯. The experience grated on Volithur. She wasn¡¯t mean-spirited, but her casual classism and need to assuage her fragile ego made their interactions tedious. Finally, she tired out her legs and let him escape for the price of kissing her hand like they were courting.

    Jemmi was no longer at her table by that point and another noble girl snagged him up for a dance. He was passed through a small group of heavyset ladies who spent as much time insulting him while social convention forced him to smile as he did moving his feet. The verbal barrage hardly bothered him since by this point his feet were growing sore.

    At one point he spotted Khana twirling across the floor with Ulysses, her full attention on her relative. A stab of jealousy slid right past his mental defenses. The boy led a charmed life. Receiving expensive elixirs and extensive instruction. Having servants provide for his every need. Inheriting a wealth of natural talent. Being an object of desire for beautiful women.

    Volilthur fought off the emotion. He told himself he would rather be humiliated and beaten daily than have the hateful blood of the Lord General flow through his veins. But to have even a trace of talent would be so divine, his thoughts betrayed his heart.

    When a lull in the dancing arrived, Volithur found Hazen resting at a table and joined his fellow commoner. While they existed in very different social strata back in the fifth household, they were treated no differently at the Evergreen Institute. ¡°This is quite terrible,¡± Volithur observed.

    ¡°The ordeal will end soon. The chaperons will not want their charges dancing with commoners after sunset.¡± Hazen eyed him. ¡°You managed to sit out a few songs at the start.¡±

    ¡°I found a partner who wasn¡¯t interested in dancing.¡±

    ¡°Beginner¡¯s luck,¡± Hazen quipped.

    Volithur gestured towards where their team mates moved together. ¡°Those two seem to be enjoying themselves.¡±

    ¡°Khana needs to marry upwards into the family hierarchy to avoid disinheritance. Her mother is deceased and her talent is insufficient for her to remain on her own merits. This time at the Evergreen Institute may be a prelude to a much longer stay for her.¡±

    ¡°You mean she might be forced to go into service?¡±

    ¡°That outcome seems inevitable. Master Rowan has been a dutiful guardian. No doubt he will pay the hefty fee of the Institute to ensure his niece a comfortable transition to her reduced station. Khana will never catch the eye of more prestigious family members who visit to the fifth household so long as she must compete with Rolanda. Ensnaring her childhood playmate Ulysses likely seems possible to her, but his parents expect a better match for him.¡±

    Volithur stared at his team mate as she smiled up at a boy who clearly enjoyed the affection without returning it in kind. ¡°It¡¯s a terrible thing to lack talent,¡± he said.

    ¡°Only if you lack connections.¡± Frustration marred Hazen¡¯s normally placid features. ¡°Some are lucky enough to enter the orbit of lords based on a happenstance of appearance.¡±

    The Head Scribe approached their table while Volithur was still processing the fact that Hazen might be enough of a fool to envy his circumstances. ¡°Master Rowan is ready to leave now.¡±

    They both jumped to their feet at the opportunity to leave. Their other team mates were recalled from the dance floor and they returned to their assigned cottage as a group, listening to Master Rowan recount tedious details of conversations he had with other chaperons.

    Fortunately, the walk was short and Volithur soon found himself in the luxury of his private bedroom. The comfort of the space did little to calm the turmoil of his mind. Being constantly manipulated grated upon him. He could do nothing but go along with it. Judging by his almost nonexistent cultivation progress, he would never be in a position other than that of a bowing servant.

    A session of mental cultivation later, he found peace in slumber.

    The competition resumed the next day. Rather than a packed examination room like the previous day, he had to perform calculations on stage. Two chalkboards on wheels would be turned away from them while proctors set up math problems. Then the chalkboards were turned back and they had a certain period of time to mark their answer.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Nine rounds passed before the problems progressed beyond simple arithmetic operations to algebra. Volithur breezed through three more problems before his opponent failed, giving him the win. Hazen did similarly well with the spell-off. Khana won her competition as well, which Volithur mostly thought due to the way she flashed her dimples when she smiled at the judges. Ulysses lost, but only due to being assigned an unfavorable side of the argument. The boy took his loss graciously on the stage, then secluded himself from the rest of the group to mutter rephrased arguments under his breath, seemingly trying to figure out the phrasing that would have improved his outcome.

    After lunch they returned for another match. It took twenty rounds for Volithur to secure a victory this time, and on his return to his seat he was warmly welcomed by Master Rowan and the Head Scribe. Ulysses then sat beside him. ¡°You have done very well today, Ward Harridan. I regret my poor showing in our previous match, but I will redeem myself.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your kind words, Master Ulysses.¡±

    Ulysses nodded in agreement. ¡°I suspect we may finish in the top three. You have not achieved a level one soul yet, Ward Harridan. That will make it difficult for you to absorb cosmic energy through your aura.¡±

    Volithur sank into the chair as his mood deflated. Despite the outcome of his match, he was not truly a winner.

    Beside him, Ulysses reached some conclusion. ¡°I would offer you assistance in aura training tonight, Ward Harridan. That method of cultivation is my specialty and you have proven yourself deserving.¡±

    The offer seemed very sincere, yet Volithur felt only dread at the thought of enduring another lesson where an instructor slowly transitioned from optimism to open disappointment. He could not refuse such a generous offer, however. Indeed, he had to display a proper degree of enthusiasm to demonstrate his appreciation. ¡°I would be most honored to receive your instruction, Master Ulysses.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then it is settled.¡±

    The overall outcome of the second match went in their favor. Ulysses won his debate, Hazen won after more than forty rounds, and Khana lost to a much prettier opponent. That moved them into the top four, which thoroughly satisfied the expectations placed on their group. Master Rowan abandoned their table during dinner to make the rounds and receive congratulations from his acquaintances. The Head Scribe hummed contentedly to himself, stopping only once to mention to Volithur that he would be inclined to provide personalized tutoring in the future.

    No doubt Volithur had secured a permanent spot on the competition team. He wouldn¡¯t mind repeating the three day trip once a year. It gave him an opportunity to extort extra resources from the Head Scribe. If he intended to make any progress, he would need as many resources as possible.

    When they returned to their cottage to prepare for the show, Ulysses made a formal request to Master Rowan to skip it so that he could instruct ¡®Ward Harridan¡¯ in aura cultivation. Master Rowan hemmed and hawed for a few minutes before finally granting the request.

    While everyone else prepared to attend the show, Ulysses sat across from Volithur and stared at him intensely. ¡°Everything you have read about cultivating the aura is wrong.¡±

    Volithur nodded along with the statement. He had not actually read much on the aura.

    ¡°The authors of all the common guides are from Tian, where cosmic energy is a hundred times denser than a world like ours. Their method of passive soul respiration barely works here, and not at all if your soul isn¡¯t attuned yet.

    ¡°The better method is priming and pumping, similar to what you would do during mental cultivation. Create the smallest gap possible in the aura aperture of your soul, then squeeze out a puff of cosmic energy. It seems counter to common sense to emit energy instead of hoarding it, but your aura will become much more responsive with the infusion. You should be able to harvest about ten percent more than what you invest in the process, even in a poor environment. While in the cosmic chamber, you can expect to double the initial investment.

    ¡°When you harvest cosmic energy from the environment, you want to expand your aura in a permissive state, then harden it and draw it back towards your body. So from start to finish, the process is: squeeze out cosmic energy from your soul into your aura, expand your aura in a permissive state, harden it to cosmic energy, draw it close to your body, and inhale the energy through your soul aperture. Then you repeat. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Good. Then we arrive at the largest challenge. Since you are not attuned, your aura will be an ephemeral construct. I would be surprised if you can even feel it. So we will be doing sensitization drills for the remainder of the evening.¡±

    And they did so for several hours. As they sat awkwardly across from one another, Ulysses extended his invisible aura to crush that of Volithur. Meanwhile, Volithur strained to his utmost to sense anything. There was nothing at first. Then, towards the end, he began to trick himself into imagining phantom sensations. That proved even more disheartening than feeling nothing.

    The others returned from the show, making polite comments about the performances, and Ulysses took that as his cue to finish the lesson. ¡°Gather as much cosmic energy as you can in mental cultivation tonight in preparation for tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I will try, Master Ulysses, but I can usually only perform a single round of mental cultivation before I need to sleep.¡±

    The horror on Ulysses¡¯ face eclipsed the stoic resolve the boy wore by habit. ¡°What have those simpleminded soldiers been teaching you?¡±

    Volithur worked his jaw, unable to formulate a coherent response. They hadn¡¯t taught him mental cultivation. ¡°It was a book,¡± he finally managed.

    ¡°You¡¯re learning mental cultivation from reading a book? Before your soul has even attuned? How is that ever supposed to work?¡± Ulysses plopped himself back down on his seat. ¡°If you are straining so hard you lose consciousness after a single cycle, you are doing something very wrong, Ward Harridan. The aperture between your mind and soul is keyed to thought, so when you form a conceptual framework representing cosmic energy and pair it with the intent to filter, it should result in a pure stream of cosmic energy.

    ¡°Whatever insight you have into cosmic energy must be woefully inaccurate if you are experiencing such inefficiencies. It would be like breathing through your nose while you suffer from a cold. A lot of effort is required to bring in a small amount of air. You need to forget the things you¡¯ve read about cosmic energy. Those are paltry words. The greatest poet alive couldn¡¯t capture the essence of true power with a thousand lines of verse. When you perform mental cultivation, focus on the sensation of cosmic energy and its illimitable potential. Feel your way to an insight and use that as your conceptual.¡±

    Volithur shot to his feet and bowed deeply to the other boy. ¡°Thank you, Master Ulysses. Your instruction is a gift I can never hope to repay.¡±

    ¡°You are the ward of my great grandfather and a future member of his retinue. This type of instruction should have been given to you long ago. But I will be content if this helps you take advantage of the cosmic chamber tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 23

    Hector blinked himself awake, clearing away lingering memories of Volithur mentally cultivating for half the night as he turned off his alarm. Before leaving his bed, he brought up his nascent understanding of cosmic energy and cultivated a few rounds. He exchanged energy through his mind five times before quitting, only slightly drained from the exercise.

    ¡°Well,¡± he muttered, ¡°that certainly is a lot easier when you do it the right way.¡±

    Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have time for a cultivation session. The previous day he had used a cocktail of caffeine, lion¡¯s mane mushrooms, creatine, ginkgo biloba, and B vitamin complex to boost his mental energy enough to power through a marathon of inefficient cultivation. It had been fairly effective. He estimated that he wasn¡¯t far behind where Volithur had been prior to taking his first tea powder elixir. If he combined his homemade cocktail of supplements with the improved method taught by Ulysses, Hector imagined he would have quite a bit of success.

    He rushed through his morning routine. Gym, stop by a gas station to get something for his father, arrive at the hospital. Hector closed the door as he entered his dad¡¯s room.

    ¡°Hey there, young fellow,¡± he greeted.

    His dad stared at the ceiling, only recognizing Hector¡¯s arrival with a flip of one hand.

    ¡°Everything okay?¡±

    ¡°Deronto joined that religious order. He¡¯s an arborist now.¡±

    ¡°I imagine that is a lot less fun than watching him score with the ladies.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± his dad said. ¡°The thing is¡­ he had some serious insights into the nature of life. I got to go along for the ride and now I understand them too.¡±

    ¡°That sounds good,¡± Hector said as he withdrew fruit from the plastic bag.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any of that, Hector. Put it away.¡±

    ¡°Dad. Be reasonable.¡±

    ¡°Devouring like I¡¯ve been doing is wrong in so many ways. I can¡¯t even find the words to explain how wrong it is.¡± His dad took a shuddering breath. ¡°My end is near, boy. I¡¯m not upset about it any more. I understand the cycle. My death frees up resources for new life. Oh. Right. I don¡¯t want buried beside your mother any more. Look into a natural burial. Plant a tree over me. I think that is legal here.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just give up.¡±

    ¡°Hector, I¡¯m not surrendering a fight. I¡¯m accepting a fundamental truth. Everything is connected in a beautiful web. If I were to continue down the path I was on, I would cut myself off from the tapestry of existence and become a parasite. I don¡¯t want that.¡±

    Hector pulled up a paper bag. ¡°The only thing we can¡¯t fix is death.¡±

    ¡°What the hell is this now,¡± his dad muttered, lifting his hand to push the bag away. Yet as he came into contact with it, his hand froze. Tension slowly built within the entire body of Terry Thoreaux, until he looked like a dog about to pounce on a scrap of food. His arm began to shake.

    Then, quick as a shot, he ripped the paper bag open and submerged both fingers into the earthworms the local gas station sold as bait. The worms had been moving lethargically, but the entire mass quivered as one and went still before collapsing into rubbery corpses.

    Terry Thoreaux didn¡¯t stop. One by one, he seized every fruit set before him, whether whole or diced for eating, draining their ineffable essence so that they deflated into death. When the last offering had been accepted, his skeletal hand shot out to seize Hector¡¯s forearm.

    The mix of hope and regret that had swirled in Hector¡¯s heart vanished beneath the tide of fear that arose. He felt something being ripped free of him. Something important. With an instinct as powerful as pulling back from a burn, Hector ripped free of his father¡¯s grasp and launched himself back until he hit the wall.

    His father made to pursue and visibly restrained himself. Anger contorted his features. ¡°What did I tell you? This isn¡¯t what I want to be! I would rather die a thousand times!¡± He placed his palms over his eyes. ¡°Get out of here, Hector!¡±

    ¡°No, we can figure this out, dad.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea how any of this works, Hector. Stop trying to impose your will on the situation. I had a good life and it is at its end. Don¡¯t bring me any more ¡®gifts¡¯ when you come back.¡±

    Hector took a small step away from the wall. ¡°I¡¯ll stay until you are under control.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to attack the nurse. I need fifteen minutes of peace to tame the hunger.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Hector. Get out of here. I can¡¯t take the next steps while you¡¯re pissing me off.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Empty handed.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare do this to me again, boy.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Bye.¡±

    Hector¡¯s legs felt wobbly as he left the room. He still wasn¡¯t sure what exactly had happened. Did his dad just become an Ogre? Did sucking some of Hector¡¯s human life energy mean he was a Strigoi instead? Were they just toeing a dangerous line? Did they have to go back to the slow decline into death that had marked the past month?

    Uncertainty consumed him as he drove to work in a subconscious autopilot mode. He parked his car, removed his keys from the ignition, and stared at the warehouse door, surprised to find himself there. The whole ride had passed by in a moment and he couldn¡¯t understand why he was there. Not just there at that moment, but why he had dedicated the majority of his life to the objective of moving boxes in and out of trucks.

    What the hell was his life? Working at a company where he couldn¡¯t be too friendly with his coworkers because he was senior management but was excluded from the social circle of the management team because he was a warehouse person? For what? The money? He had enough of that to live out the rest of his life in comfort.

    The director of operations would be waiting for him in his office. Probably acting contrite because his childish power play backfired. The tug-of-war over budget or comparative sizes of bonuses or whatever corporate politics bullshit had motivated the ¡®talking to¡¯ of the previous day ultimately didn¡¯t matter to Hector. He could hardly bring himself to care about the disrespect he had been shown. It might have only been twenty-four hours, but he had lived weeks in his sleep since then and been subjected to much worse indignities.

    The real question was did he still want to work? If he quit, could he fill his time with something more fulfilling?

    Of course he could. He knew how to cultivate now. Every hour he had previously dedicated to an ungrateful corporate entity he could redirect into self-improvement. The world around him bloomed into sudden clarity. He was done working. That chapter of his life could be left behind. Maybe he would work out the rest of the week, but staying wouldn¡¯t be a net benefit to his life at this point.

    Hector stopped by his office, where instead of the director of operations he found a post-it note requesting a call. Not feeling particularly like starting work yet, he picked up his phone and dialed.

    ¡°Hey, Hector! Sorry about that mess yesterday. Stress got the best of me. You know how it is, right? All this dream stuff has a couple of screws loose in my head, too. I¡¯m the young master of a Xian family at night. That kid does anything he wants. I mean that literally. Anything. It¡¯s like Girls Gone Wild and American Psycho had a kid and hired Grand Theft Auto to be the nanny.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you have it pretty rough,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Skews your perspective, that¡¯s what it does. You start seeing real people as NPC¡¯s in a video game. That ain¡¯t right, though. I see that now. That¡¯s why I offer you my sincere apologies, Hector. I didn¡¯t mean any of that stuff I said and I am going to make it up to you. I promise. We good?¡±

    ¡°No hard feelings,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Glad to hear it. You take care now.¡±

    Hector set the phone down, sat in front of his computer, and drafted a resignation letter. He sent it as an email to the chief operating officer, company president, chief executive officer, director of human resources, and carbon copied his personal email account. Then, feeling lighter than he had in a long time, he walked onto the warehouse floor.

    He didn¡¯t get far before he saw something that made him question his decision to work out the rest of the week. Jeremy had the pallet wrapper disassembled.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Fixing stuff,¡± Jeremy responded without looking up.

    ¡°You¡¯re not qualified to be doing that.¡±

    ¡°Relax, I know all about this kind of thing from my dreams.¡±

    ¡°And does OSHA know you received special dream training on machine repair?¡±

    Jeremy finally looked up. ¡°The motor is already repaired. The capacitor just needed replaced. I was ready to rewind the wires, but it wasn¡¯t necessary. I have the frame mostly straightened out. It would be back together already except I can¡¯t find a couple of the screws. The lighting isn¡¯t very good over here.¡±

    ¡°You ¡®replaced a capacitor¡¯ on the motor¡­. How did you find the right replacement part?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be happier not knowing the answer to that, boss man.¡±

    ¡°At least tell me you didn¡¯t rip it out of another piece of equipment in the warehouse.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t so much ¡®find¡¯ a capacitor as I made one.¡± Jeremy held up his hands. ¡°Hear me out. I attend a prestigious Jinn academy in my dreams. My major is in aneutronic fusion, but the general studies classes cover motors, circuit design, stuff like that. Fixing a pallet wrapper is kid stuff.¡±

    Hector grunted. The kid thought he knew what he was doing and it wasn¡¯t like he had to worry about losing his job. ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t get hurt.¡± Pause. ¡°That fusion thing. Can you do that here?¡±

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Jeremy said. ¡°I need to saturate with legal energy. Legal as in the laws of nature, not lawyer stuff. Then I can start constructing a conceptual realm around the concept of deuterium-lithium fusion into helium-4. I can boost natural resonance with my probability domain and make it so that cheap and safe fusion happens at room temperature. Electricity is going to be very cheap in a couple of years, boss man.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t complain about that,¡± Hector said.

    Jeremy laughed. ¡°You¡¯ll probably be meditating on a mountain or some Xian shit.¡±

 Chapter 24

    Volithur returned to consciousness after about three hours of sleep. Not the wisest strategy to prepare for an academic competition, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to stop the previous night. He had cultivated. Not the sloppy pass-out-after-a-single-round mental cultivation. Real cultivation. He did it well enough and long enough that he could notice a difference to his soul. He felt on the precipice of something significant, as if just a slight push would break him through to a level one soul.

    If he wasn¡¯t already running low on mental stamina, he would have made the push at that moment. As it was, he could cultivate after he won a spot in the cosmic chamber.

    He managed to wake up the whole way with a quick circuit of calisthenics in his room before joining the rest of his team for the breakfast their servant brought them. Ulysses scrutinized him carefully, then nodded in approval. The boy¡¯s esteem brightened Volithur¡¯s morning further. He was finally making progress in his endeavors.

    The first match of the day brought a shock with it as after Volithur ascended to the stage, he turned to see a limping form working her way up the steps. Jemmi smirked as she shuffled to her place beside him. At the dance she¡¯d claimed that her subject was recital, yet here she was facing him at calculations.

    Volithur rallied his nerves, ignoring his opponent, and refocused on the problems set before him. With laser fine focus, he solved everything placed upon his board. They went an entire forty-seven rounds before Jemmi finally made a mistake by failing to handle an exponent properly.

    On the walk back to their seats, Jemmi made a casual comment. ¡°I won the other night, you won this morning. I assure you, I will be more than equal to a commoner in next year¡¯s competition.¡±

    Hazen lost his competition, which soured Volithur¡¯s mood further. He wasn¡¯t quite sure how he had lost to Jemmi the other night, but her demeanor had been anything but pleasant after they competed. Ulysses won his debate handily, largely due to the fact that his opponent constructed a rebuttal on an incorrect assumption ¨C otherwise the other boy had given a more impressive argument. And then Khana lost her recital.

    Volithur turned to Hazen. ¡°Are we tied?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too early to know,¡± Hazen replied. ¡°If we tie in a match, like we just did with the Thrush Team, then the outcome will be flipped based on future matches. If we beat Team York, but Team York beats Team Thrush, then we retroactively become the winner of the tied match.¡±

    ¡°And if both Shaocheth and Thrush beat York?¡±

    ¡°Then they go to points accumulated through the duration of the entire tournament. Every individual win at an event is counted as a point, and the team totals are compared. Whoever has the higher number receives the superior placing. If there is still a tie, then the judges will make a determination.¡± Hazen lowered his voice. ¡°That would go in our favor. While on the surface this is a straightforward competition, the politics of the situation dictate that Shaocheth be favored. The Thrush family hasn¡¯t had a living lord in eighty years.¡±

    Soon Volithur had to step forth again to face off with someone from the Evergreen Institute. The heavyset man studied him curiously before their match began, not a hint of concern in his expression. Then began one of the longest hours of Volithur¡¯s life. The math problems began hard and became harder. Each question had a one minute time limit, and on the fifty-first problem, Volithur failed to finish in time.

    Fortunately, his opponent had also failed. They went six more rounds before Volithur once more could not finish in time. His opponent, sadly, had just managed to finish. The man made a show of bowing to Volithur on stage, and the etiquette training immediately kicked in. Volithur returned the bow and held it for twice as long as his opponent had ¨C necessary because the winner had initiated.

    When he settled back into his seat, the Head Scribe leaned across Hazen to whisper ¡°a loss to the Institute was expected, you did quite well prolonging the match so long¡±. In quick succession, each of his team mates lost their respective matches. None of them received a bow from their opponent, which Volithur filed away as food for his ego when future events made him feel inferior.

    Then came lunch. Master Rowan and the Head Scribe graciously complimented their performance thus far and assured them that they had already done everything they needed to honor the household. After that came the casual observations about how beating York versus losing to York could lead to drastically difference placings. Fortunately, most of the subtle eye contact was directed towards Hazen.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    For a final time, Volithur stepped onto the stage. He knew from the start that he would beat this opponent as the short boy he faced appeared utterly dispirited. They only solved thirty problems before Volithur was able to step off the stage as the winner.

    Hazen pulled off a similar victory. Then Ulysses lost his debate due to being bated into displaying too much emotion. Finally, Khana took the stage. Her opponent went first, opining about the open road of life while making expansive gestures with her arms and play-acting an exploration of a wooded region.

    Then Khana took center stage. The girl who at the estate disappeared into Rolanda¡¯s shadow. The girl who loved to dance and make merry. The girl whose future hinged upon convincing a man of superior talent to take her hand. The girl who currently hunched in on herself to create a tiny silhouette.

    Volithur stared, entranced, as his team mate began to speak. The poem she recited was about desiring to be worthy of the one she held in high regard. It was delivered with such raw vulnerability that he wanted to cringe. Yet at the same time, he caught her gaze landing upon their group. He knew the reason. He knew with every ounce of neural tissue in his skull that she sought to inflame the emotions of Ulysses for her future benefit. Yet his traitorous heart thundered as her eyes drifted in the same general direction as his while she spoke of love.

    I might just be the biggest idiot in this room, he thought, trying and failing to recall what the supposedly beautiful Rolanda looked like.

    As the poem ended, silence took the room. Then the audience surged to their feet and the hall filled with thunderous applause. Volithur stood with them, clapping and trying to shake the infatuation that had caught hold of him.

    Khana received the win from the judges and returned to her seat, pausing every other step to shake a hand or return a bow. When she reached their row, she slid past Volithur and Hazen as if they didn¡¯t exist before pulling Ulysses into a warm hug. Volithur turned away at that point and didn¡¯t see anything that followed.

    The room settled and the competition continued. Jemmi from Thrush faced off against the kid from York, eventually losing to him due to a missing negative sign. Volithur clapped a bit more enthusiastically than usual for that. He still couldn¡¯t figure out what her game had been, but he was quite clear on the fact that he no longer liked her.

    Thrush lost the spelling contest as well, putting them down two points. Then they won their debate. While the entire room watched in anticipation, Thrush beat York in the recital. Murmuring began as people struggled to recall the exact rules for such a situation.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re second place,¡± Ulysses said a bit louder than proper.

    The judges and hosts of the event consulted for ten minutes before Stella Ilvar of the Evergreen Institute took the stage. She flew through the air to reach her mark with casual ease and bowed deeply to the audience. ¡°Friends, the Evergreen Institute thanks you for your presence and participation. We appreciate each and every one of you more than I can adequately express in a short speech. Though you are all precious to us, only three teams can stand at the top.¡±

    The woman held out one arm dramatically and swept it before the audience. ¡°At this time, could our third place winners come forward, the team from Thrush!¡±

    Volithur almost asked if that was good for them, but then he caught sight of the Head Scribe veritably vibrating in poorly restrained pleasure and realized his question had already been answered. They watched as Thrush took the stage, which took long enough that the applause died out due to Jemmi¡¯s lame leg. The chaperon of Thrush accepted a trophy and then the entire team received a small paper bag ¨C the four participants, the instructor, and the chaperon all included as prize recipients.

    Stella Ilvar turned back to the crowd. ¡°Next, we would like to welcome our second place winners to take the stage: the representatives of the famous Shaocheth family!¡±

    In the excitement of the moment, Volithur almost started towards the stage without concern for proper decorum. Fortunately, he remembered himself in time and stood aside so that he could take his place at the rear of their procession.

    On stage, Master Rowan stood before their group and accepted the second place trophy with such pride you would have thought he participated in the tournament himself. Then an assistant from the Evergreen Institute stepped forward to give Master Rowan a reward bag. The man proceeded down the hierarchy in order, giving a bag to Ulysses, then Khana, then the Head Scribe, then Hazen, and finally Volithur.

    Then they stood aside while the team representing the Evergreen Institute came forward to receive their rewards. Stella Ilvar didn¡¯t even present the trophy, simply caressed it in passing. When all rewards had been distributed, the woman led a round of applause for those on stage.

    ¡°And for the final reward, the four team members from our top three placers will be led to the Evergreen Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber for a full hour. I wish you a productive cultivation session, winners!¡±

 Chapter 25

    They were led off the stage through its back exit, through tight corridors, down several flights of stairs into a subterranean section lit only by flickering oil lamps. Volithur couldn¡¯t help but think that electric lighting would be incredibly useful in that space. Of course, no self-respecting Xian would ever countenance the use of Jinn technology.

    Deep in the bowels of the basement, a central room held a small stone structure. They were directed to squeeze inside it through a narrow gap in its thick walls. The first student to enter was given a small lantern that gave off just enough light for everyone to crowd into the chamber.

    A rudimentary bench was carved around the perimeter, while in the center of the cramped space a pedestal with a shallow impression at its top held a small amount of water. ¡°It¡¯s so intense in here already and they haven¡¯t even started,¡± Khana said to Ulysses.

    The older boy¡¯s voice held a certain stiffness as he responded to the exclamation, no doubt upset that their group had volunteered public criticism of their own family¡¯s facilities. ¡°The Shaocheth cosmic chamber is a different design, Khana. It uses a higher degree of active components so that the quality of a session can be calibrated to the needs of the occupants.¡±

    ¡°Active components,¡± Jemmi echoed. ¡°What a callous term to obscure the sacrifices made to push your cultivation higher.¡±

    An adult servant poked his head through the door to stare intently at the water, which began to boil, releasing steam into the air. The servant withdrew and a heavy stone plug was maneuvered into place to seal the chamber.

    In the dark, Volithur saw Ulysses¡¯ shadowy form turn in his direction. ¡°It may prove helpful to take your salt now, Ward Harridan. Remember my advice.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Ulysses.¡± Volithur opened the small reward bag, withdrew a smooth round stone the size of his fingertip, and considered the loose powder a moment. He could see no dignified manner of getting to his teaspoon of salt, so he tilted his face to the ceiling and poured it into his mouth. The salt¡­ was salt. While not unbearable, he didn¡¯t enjoy the taste and for the life of him couldn¡¯t understand why table salt from Tian would be given as a reward. It didn¡¯t fill his body with cosmic energy as he had expected. It just left a literal bad taste in his mouth.

    ¡°It¡¯s started,¡± an unfamiliar voice announced. Murmurs of agreement came from the bodies packed into the chamber around him.

    ¡°Do we wait for the cosmic energy to increase or cultivate immediately?¡±

    ¡°I have been cultivating since I entered the chamber,¡± Ulysses answered.

    The side conversations between strangers dwindled as everyone brought their focus to the reason the twelve of them were in that tiny room. Volithur practiced his breathing exercise a few times before following the instructions given to him by Ulysses the previous night. He squeezed out a puff of cosmic energy into the aperture he felt most closely associated with the space immediately around himself and prepared to fumble through awkward visualizations.

    That proved entirely unnecessary. As soon as he ejected the puff, the flow of cosmic energy reversed and Volithur witnessed a steady stream of power flow into his soul. It happened without any effort on his part. The infusion continued unimpeded, growing stronger as the energy levels of the chamber increased.

    About time I had some good fortune, he thought.

    Any further ruminations were cut off by what felt like a world-shattering concussion within his soul, as if a bomb strong enough to lay waste to the entire campus of the Evergreen Institute had exploded within him. Volithur slumped in a stupor that lasted a considerable length of time.

    He came back to himself when Hazen shook his shoulder. ¡°Are you sleeping right now?¡±

    Volithur shook his head to clear out the murkiness. ¡°No. I don¡¯t think so, at least.¡± He became aware of an invisible envelope stretching about his body and flexed it with his will, causing it to stretch like an additional limb he had only just discovered. ¡°I think I just increased my soul level.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Hazen responded. ¡°You chose a good place to do it. You recovered in half an hour instead of a week.¡±

    Half an hour? Panic set in. Half his time in the chamber had passed already and he hadn¡¯t even used the aura cultivation technique yet!

    Volithur expanded his newly discovered aura a few inches, letting it pass through the cosmic energy surrounding him. Then he hardened the outer edge and pulled it back, further compressing the density of energy. With the slightest effort, he relaxed his aura aperture and almost fell off the bench at the torrent of power that flooded his soul.

    This was real cultivating. Volithur entered into a steady rhythm, expanding and contracting his aura to pull in more and more of the intoxicating cosmic energy. It came easily, effortlessly. For every minute that passed he achieved more than he had in months of mental cultivation and elixir usage.

    By the time the wonderfully productive session drew to a closer, Volithur felt he was once more on the precipice, his soul ready to transform again. The energy content of the chamber declined drastically, though, and he could not manage to push through the barrier to achieve a level two soul.

    Still, the experience had been his most significant step forward since he entered the fifth household of the Shaocheth family. By attuning his soul, he had become a Xian. While he now knew his past intention of gaining power to enact revenge for the impossible fantasy that it was, Volithur knew that any modicum of comfort he gained in life would depend on his cultivation achievements. He might be a Xian, he might be training with their soldiers, but he was not one of the callous nobles who slaughtered innocent humans to play at war.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The block was removed to open the chamber once more. With much jostling, the winners of the tournament exited and were guided back to the upper floors of the building. They split apart into their teams with the most minimal parting courtesies possible and Volithur followed his group back to their cottage.

    They found Master Rowan sitting across from the Head Scribe, the trophy cradled in the crook of his arm like it was his precious child. ¡°Ah, here is our winning team! Welcome back. I hope your time in the Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber proved beneficial. I had the pilot load our things on the transport already, so we will be leaving once dinner ends.¡±

    Volithur bowed silently alongside Hazen, while the noble children engaged Master Rowan in conversation. Eventually, the Head Scribe surreptitiously pulled Hazen aside for a quick conversation. Volithur slowly edged towards his room, trying not to be noticed as he made his escape.

    Then Hazen strode past, hooked his arm, and dragged him along. When they were inside Volithur¡¯s room, Hazen pushed the door shut. ¡°Ward Harridan,¡± Hazen began in a stilted voice, ¡°I have been asked to have a frank conversation with you.¡±

    His breath caught. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, you have performed admirably,¡± Hazen said. ¡°However, in recognition of the particulars of your background it was deemed wise to explain the expectations of you before we depart. While the academic tournament was in progress, the two of us were on a team with nobles. We received courtesies from our teammates not normally extended towards commoners. That stops once this final dinner is over. Your social status will return to what it was before this trip.

    ¡°Master Ulysses is not your friend. Master Khana is not a valid target for your affections. And Master Rowan most assuredly is not an acquaintance of yours. We are servants of the household and are expected to comport ourselves appropriately. Do not seek out any conversation with our former teammates after we return. Do not even try to make eye contact. Your behavior must return to its previous pattern.¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°I never felt like I was more to them than a useful resource.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Hazen crossed his arms and looked away. ¡°And¡­ our association will also be returning to the previous pattern.¡±

    That one stung a bit. ¡°So we¡¯re not friends, either?¡±

    ¡°Mere acquaintances, Ward Harridan. I wish you well, but our lives have dissimilar trajectories. My future path is serving the fifth household. Whether you enter the Lord General¡¯s retinue or fall into obscurity, you have no benefit to offer me, only the political risk of associating with an outsider.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Volithur stared at the floor. ¡°Well, at least I finally attuned my soul.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations on that. You appear to be close to the second level, which will confer considerable benefits to you.¡±

    A surge of annoyance struck him. ¡°How does everyone know my level of progress?¡±

    ¡°We use the senses we developed through mental cultivation, Ward Harridan. You should be able to do the same soon enough. I will leave you now to prepare for dinner.¡±

    Volithur sat on the edge of the soft bed that had been his for the past several days and ordered his thoughts. If his easy access to answers and advice would end soon, he needed to prioritize a list of questions to ask during dinner.

    Ulysses had already provided him with invaluable guidance for his mental and aura practices, which left body cultivation as the obvious area needing improvement. He should definitely inquire about steps he could take to improve there. He could ask some more about mental enhancements, but Volithur suspected a lot of his previous problems had come from the fact that his soul hadn¡¯t been attuned yet. Xian powers simply did not work well for non-Xian.

    Should he ask about training his domain? The Sergeant seemed proficient enough in that area, so there was no reason to pester a noble for details before he even had a basic understanding of the subject. Maybe asking for book recommendations would be the best course of action.

    By the time they left for dinner, Volithur had his questions primed. His plan to sit beside Ulysses, however, encountered an unanticipated obstruction. The Head Scribe subtly arranged to sandwich Ulysses between himself and Master Rowan on one side of the table. A frustrated Khana moved to sit directly across from Ulysses then, which left a spot to either side of her for him and Hazen.

    Volithur found himself across from Master Rowan, which automatically made asking any questions presumptuous. So instead of dinner being his last opportunity to gain sage advice, it became a painfully awkward spectacle of social suicide as Khana tried to find ways to ask Ulysses what he had thought of her final recital performance and Ulysses went out of his way to politely change the topic of conversation.

    The entire affair made Volithur cringe reflexively in secondhand embarrassment. He concentrated on his meal as much as possible, which was another series of tiny plates of exotic items. Though many of the plates utterly eclipsed his usual fare, Volithur found himself missing the hearty dinner stews served in the barracks, which he always consumed in the company of an actual friend.

    The Head Scribe studiously ignored the drama unfolding before them, while Master Rowan seemed utterly intent on polishing the trophy he refused to let out of his sight. Volithur couldn¡¯t discern whether Master Rowan possessed true ignorance of the humiliating rejection or if the man preferred to avoid recognizing it.

    Dealing with the fallout of Khana¡¯s failed courtship likely meant he had to decide whether to send his niece to the Evergreen Institute as a disinherited petty noble. No doubt that was a conversation best saved for home. And, judging by how Master Rowan all but made love to the shiny trophy, the conversation should be delayed until after he had the opportunity to play show and tell.

    The dinner ended, the Head Scribe took him and Hazen to stand at the exit, and the three nobles `made the rounds of the room to give their farewells to their peers, knocking on the doors to various private rooms while the Head Scribe whispered a lecture on the virtue of being circumspect when one overheard private matters of the family.

    Their flight back on the transport passed uneventfully, and upon landing the Head Scribe gestured towards the barracks building. ¡°I trust you can find your way home, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Scribe. Thank you for allowing me to accompany the team, Master Rowan.¡±

    Master Rowan blinked at him as if Volithur had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. ¡°Ah, yes, Ward Harridan. Good job. Perhaps we shall see you next year.¡±

    No one else said a word, so Volithur bowed and marched towards the barracks. His low mood steadily rose as he grew closer to the place he felt most comfortable on this strange world, eager to share the stories of his time away with Thassily.

    However, the moment he entered the barracks, he found himself in the midst of a celebration. At the center of the revelry, he saw the Sergeant being hoisted into the air by a dozen pairs of hands while many more were pouring alcoholic beverages and absolutely everyone was singing off key ballads of victory ¨C Volithur couldn¡¯t tell if they all sang different verses of the same song or if half the room had unintentionally switched to a different song altogether.

    All Volithur knew was that he had arrived just in time for a party.

 Chapter 26

    Thassily found him quickly, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pushing his own mug of rum into Volithur¡¯s hands. ¡°You¡¯re back, Harridan!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡±

    ¡°Sergeant¡­¡± Thassily swayed, almost fell, and tried to point at the man being paraded around the room on the shoulders of drunk soldiers.

    ¡°What about the Sergeant?¡±

    ¡°Level five today,¡± Thassily managed.

    Volithur blinked. He had assumed someone of the Sergeant¡¯s standing would be further ahead of him than that. ¡°Just level five?¡±

    Thassily shrugged, took his mug back from Volithur, and drained it in great gulps. ¡°I¡¯m only level one.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m level one now, too,¡± Volithur said.

    Thassily patted his head. ¡°Yes! Celebrate! Drinks!¡±

    A mug was in his hand soon, and Volithur sipped at the rum while the soldiers about him stumbled about in a state of inebriation. He lost Thassily soon as his friend had to empty his stomach and then chose to pass out on the floor of their room, fervently declaring his belief that the hammock would spin the room if he used it.

    A few soldiers noticed him and possessed enough of their mental faculties to remember he had been absent. They crowded around him, rambling incoherently about ¡®poetry boys¡¯, which Volithur eventually realized was supposed to be a joke about him attending an academic competition. He couldn¡¯t tell if the alcohol had revealed their distaste for his special treatment or if they thought they were teasing him as one of the guys.

    Eventually, they cleared out as they wanted to get another round of drinks.

    A sober face in the corner drew his attention, and the Marshal looked up from his paperwork to gesture Volithur over. ¡°Greetings, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°You attuned while on your trip. Congratulations, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°How did the event go?¡±

    ¡°We won second place, Master Marshal.¡±

    The Marshal smiled at that. ¡°Well done, lad. Did you get anything good out of them?¡±

    ¡°The Institute gave me salt, a rock, and an hour in their cosmic chamber.¡±

    ¡°The effect of the cosmic chamber is clear to see. I¡¯m assuming the salt and rock are from Tian?¡± When Volithur nodded, the Marshal continued. ¡°Consume the salt the first chance you get. It is a stable reservoir of cosmic energy, so rather than empowering your cultivation practice, it directly aids your body enhancement.¡±

    ¡°Master Marshal, what is the rock for?¡±

    ¡°They call them cultivation pebbles. It can slightly improve the quality of your environment. If you had a pile of them, you could build a cheap imitation of a cosmic chamber. Keep it in your room if you want. No one would think to steal it. Or donate it to the family. That might be a good way to start a discussion with the Castellan. He might need a gentle reminder that you were promised fifteen minutes in the fifth household¡¯s cosmic chamber.¡±

    Volithur frowned at the thought of trading one of his rewards for a favor already owed him, but he said nothing on the matter. ¡°Uh, Master Marshal, could I ask what your soul level is?¡±

    ¡°It is no secret, Ward Harridan. Most of us can detect soul level on sight. I am level six.¡± Volithur must have made a face, because the Marshal laughed. ¡°That is higher than most ever reach. You are good at calculations, are you not, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°I am, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°The maximum amount of energy a person can harness doubles with each level of the soul. Someone at the second level is twice as powerful as someone at the first level. Then at the third level, twice as powerful as someone at the second level. And so on. As an exercise, tell me how powerful someone of level six is compared to someone at level one.¡±

    It was a simple exponential calculation that took Volithur only a few seconds. ¡°Sixty-four times more powerful.¡±

    ¡°Very good,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°The challenge is that it takes much more energy to attain each level than it gives you in benefit. To give an example, reaching the second level requires twice the effort and resources as reaching the first level. And reaching the third level requires three times as much as reaching the second. The fourth, four times more. It gets quite out of hand. Can you calculate how much more resources I had to use to get to the sixth level compared to what you used to get to the first level?¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The calculation was simply computing a factorial, but the numbers rapidly grew large enough that Volithur had to count on his fingers. ¡°I believe that would be seven hundred and twenty times more resources.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Sixty-four times more power, but you pay seven hundred and twenty times more for the privilege. And it only gets worse the higher you climb. Level six is considered extraordinary for someone cultivating on an unempowered world without true elixirs. Going further requires drawing upon primordial chaos. That is not something one should do lightly.¡±

    ¡°Primordial chaos?¡±

    The Marshal shrugged away the question. ¡°Don¡¯t concern yourself with that. It is slow suicide. I waved you over here for a specific purpose, Ward Harridan. You are not to get drunk tonight. I have given the Sergeant tomorrow off and will be covering his duties myself. That includes your private lesson. I expect a sober and well-rested student. Are we clear, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.¡±

    Back in his room, Volithur discovered that Thassily had emptied his stomach once more and carefully stepped around the mess to climb into his hammock. Though tired from barely sleeping the previous night and an eventful day, he decided to spend an hour at mental cultivation. The lure of actually progressing after so much wasted time was too much for him to resist.

    That choice didn¡¯t help his lingering exhaustion the next morning. The best he could say about his condition was that at least he was better than Thassily. His poor friend claimed he was most definitely dying as he cradled his head and groaned.

    The barracks was unusually quiet that morning. He discovered that only Instructor Lisbet, Instructor Gordo, and the Sergeant were present for breakfast. The two instructors appeared less than their best, but were obviously determined to power through their normal schedule.

    At some point, Instructor Lisbet noticed he had attuned. ¡°It¡¯s about time you made some progress, Ward Harridan.¡±

    As he tried to decide if he could get away with making a snarky response, Volithur noticed a phantom shimmer overlaid on her body. The unexpected visual effect caused him to stare. The shimmery phenomenon remained in place, yet did not interfere with his sight or distort it in any way.

    Volithur shook his head and glanced at Instructor Gordo, who also possessed a faint glow. Blinking to clear his vision did nothing. Then his gaze passed over the Marshal and his jaw dropped. The man shone like a flood light. The brilliant illumination did not degrade his sight in any way.

    I think I¡¯m seeing their cultivation level, Volithur thought.

    He continued to steal glances at the others while he ate a quick breakfast. When they lined up for morning exercises, the number of participants was half the usual due to the soldiers having the day off. The militia members seemed confused by the poor turnout as Instructor Lisbet led them through the normal warm-up routine.

    Volithur studied the men around him, analyzing their phantom luminosity and comparing them to each other. Members of the militia could be lumped into two roughly equal groups. The first possessed shimmers approximately equal to what Instructor Lisbet and Instructor Gordo displayed. The second were dimmer ¨C if Volithur were asked to quantify by how much, he would estimate by a factor of two.

    They moved on to the next segment, and Volithur discovered that having a level one soul had done absolutely nothing to improve his performance in weaponless combat. He found himself picked apart in sparring and by the end had a bloody nose in addition to the usual collection of bruises. The men he trained with had given him harder rounds ever since he had fought Little Nero to a tie while under the influence of blood boiling elixir. They believed he could actually handle himself if pushed hard enough and no amount of contrary evidence managed to convince them otherwise.

    At the end of class, he went to the dining hall where he usually had his lesson with the Sergeant, but then he Marshal called him into the office instead, where he began a conversation with an unusual request. ¡°Tell me what you have been taught about cultivation so far.¡±

    The Marshal watched impassively as Volithur explained the methods he used for body, mind, and aura cultivation. Finally, the Marshal cut him off. ¡°That¡¯s sufficient, Ward Harridan. Your understandings are formed from the instruction of soldiers and it shows. Let us first address the fact that you have failed to distinguish between two separate elements of cultivation.

    ¡°The first major goal of cultivation is to enrich the soul through absorption of cosmic energy. This absorption happens through the various apertures. In your case, you have absorbed cosmic energy through your body, your mind, and your aura. The second goal is to improve the various elements of your existence with cosmic energy. Improve your body. Improve your mind. Improve your aura. This second goal exists in tension with the first goal. You cannot simultaneously prioritize saturating your soul with cosmic energy and pushing cosmic energy into your external aspects.

    ¡°This simple truth is handled by cultivating in phases. You train to improve your soul for a time. Then you train to improve your other aspects. Then back to the soul. It is a never-ending process. Simply empowering your soul is not enough.¡±

    ¡°The Sergeant had me push energy into my bones while I absorbed the blood boiling elixir.¡±

    ¡°That was premature,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°I want you to focus on achieving a level three soul before you begin body enhancement practices. This isn¡¯t Tian. Any enhancements you do will be hampered by the environment.¡± The Marshal tapped a finger on his temple. ¡°Mental enhancement is the best area for you to focus your improvement efforts. Don¡¯t worry about your aura for now. And while you could begin using your domain now, the energy expenditure would hamper your attempts to improve your soul. Do you have any questions?¡±

    ¡°What soul level do the instructors have?¡±

    ¡°They are both level four. But to be clear, I wanted to know if you had any questions about what we had discussed here.¡±

    ¡°I do not, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°Then spend the remainder of the time before lunch seeking out the Castellan to gift him your cultivation pebble. Say something like ¡®I think the household can better use this resource¡¯ and then go quiet. Even if he dismisses you, a seed will have been planted.¡±

 Chapter 27

    Volithur ground his teeth during his walk to the palace. As useless as the rock he had received from the Evergreen Institute may be to him, he did not want to surrender his reward. Every precious resource that came to him he earned through hard work and perilous falsehoods. Gifting one of them to someone so much wealthier than him seemed a travesty.

    Nevertheless, he had his orders.

    His listless walk ended with him at the door to the Castellan¡¯s office, facing the desk of the Castellan¡¯s Clerk who studiously ignored him. ¡°Excuse me, Master,¡± he began.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be with you in a few minutes,¡± the Castellan¡¯s Clerk snapped, then resumed rearranging his desk.

    Once Volithur¡¯s patience had truly worn thin, the Castellan¡¯s Clerk glanced up at him. ¡°What is your purpose here today, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to surrender a resource to the Castellan for use by the family.¡±

    The Castellan¡¯s Clerk stared at him in confusion for several heartbeats before rising and walking to the door, muttering ¡°well, this is certainly unexpected¡± as he knocked and announced ¡®Ward Harridan¡¯. The door opened, formerly invisible cables of power glowing like a dense swarm of fireflies as they manipulated the handle, stretching deeper into the office where the Castellan sat with his feet on his desk, a goblet of wine held in a single hand.

    ¡°Come on in, then, Ward Harridan,¡± the Castellan growled.

    Volithur walked to stand across the desk, bowed deeply, and placed the cultivation pebble down. ¡°I wish to give this resource to the family. I think the household can use it better.¡±

    The Castellan swung his feet onto the floor and bent forward to squint at the rock. ¡°Do you have a hundred more of these, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Uh, I do not, Master Castellan.¡±

    ¡°Then I am thoroughly uninterested in the trinket you received as a reward from your little contest.¡± The Castellan flicked the cultivation pebble back towards Volithur. ¡°While I have no doubt you contributed to the victory of Master Ulysses, I have very little interest in the academic reputation of the household. Shaocheth is in the business of war, not books.¡±

    Volithur returned the cultivation pebble to his pocket and bowed. ¡°Please accept my apologies for disturbing you, Master Castellan.¡±

    ¡°Are you not going to demand your fifteen minutes in the cosmic chamber?¡±

    The words were delivered lightly, but Volithur sensed a trap in them. Demand. ¡°I believe you wanted to wait until I was judged worthy of receiving that gift, Master Castellan. I would not presume to know when I am ready.¡±

    The Castellan took a sip of his wine. ¡°An education has done wonders for your behavior, Ward Harridan. You can have your fifteen minutes this evening. Report here after your class ends and wait outside with my Clerk. After the nobles have finished their evening session, you may sit inside the chamber and absorb whatever dregs remain. You are dismissed, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Castellan.¡±

    He made it back to the barracks in time to eat lunch with a room full of hungover soldiers. The simple loaf of bread felt paltry after the fancy meals from his trip, but Volithur enjoyed the atmosphere much more than the stuffy private dining room. The Sergeant eventually stopped by to sit with him.

    ¡°Good to see you back, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations, Sergeant.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°And congratulations to you as well, Ward Harridan. I worried about you for no reason, it seems. At your rate of growth, I would not be surprised if you reached level two before Ward Thassily.¡±

    ¡°I hope you are not suffering too much after the celebration,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Self inflicted wounds always hurt the worst,¡± the Sergeant quipped. ¡°But you shouldn¡¯t worry about me. My organs have been tempered, so I can shrug off the effects of alcohol much better than the poor men who followed me into battle against that cask of rum.¡±

    Volithur debated his next words before speaking, but ultimately decided he didn¡¯t need to be quite so fastidious of proper decorum among fellow commoners. ¡°Sergeant, what is level five like?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t really answer that yet,¡± the Sergeant shrugged. ¡°When you reach a new level, every bit of energy is drawn into the walls of your soul to fuel the spiritual transmutation. At the moment, my well of power is bone dry. It will take me months to recover.¡±

    ¡°Months! Every time?¡±

    The Sergeant laughed. ¡°Advancing isn¡¯t easy. The legends of cultivators reaching new levels while in combat are based on a few outstanding talents on Tian who were stuffed to the gills with resources that don¡¯t exist in the modern world. Purple tingle mushrooms and giant tortoises went extinct long ago.

    ¡°Ah, you look too serious. Don¡¯t worry about the impact of reaching level two. You¡¯ll recover such a meager amount of energy in a week or two even if you don¡¯t work very hard.¡± The Sergeant stifled a yawn. ¡°How was your lesson with the Marshal?¡±

    ¡°It was good.¡±

    ¡°The Marshal is a petty noble. I believe his mother was a young lord. She died on the battlefield before making a name for herself, and her children had to find their own path forward. Our Marshal made his living at war, eventually coming to serve in the Lord General¡¯s army.¡±

    ¡°So he knows the Lord General personally?¡±

    The Sergeant snorted a laugh. ¡°He might have heard the Lord General speak once or twice. You have had more personal interaction with the master of the family than most of those in the palace. That includes noble descendants.¡±

    As he finished his loaf of bread, it was time for Volithur to return to the palace for his class. He took his seat at the back of the room, ignored by the Head Scribe and the front-seated Ulysses as if they had never taken a trip together. He and Hazen exchanged cold nods with each other as they settled in to serve as spectators to the lesson directed at their superiors.

    Volithur scrutinized the degree of shimmering among his classmates to get a feel for their power levels. The Head Scribe was only at the fourth level, Hazen the third, the beautiful Rolanda ¨C surprisingly ¨C only third as well. Ulysses was all the way at the fifth level, though rather than shimmering like everyone else his radiance seemed solid and fixed. Volithur wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that observation.

    In general, most of the nobles were at the fourth level while most of the commoners granted the right to sit in on classes ¨C the children of senior servants ¨C were mostly at the third level. The lacking power of Rolanda seemed to take a little away from her previously overbearing beauty. That perhaps explained why she had not yet won a husband with status. For whatever reason, Khana did not come to class that day.

    The lecture on society passed swiftly, a lot of the material obvious even to Volithur while the things he found unfamiliar were so niche he doubted he would ever need to know them. Then came the section on script, which remained as simple for him as ever. Finally, they arrived at the final section of the class.

    He had always sat passively while instruction in spirit happened since he had previously lacked the capacity to participate. Now, however, he went along with the mind opening exercises with renewed vigor and almost jumped to his feet in excitement when he felt bursts of static. The quiet words of the Head Scribe as he recited popular poetry took on a strange echo in Volilthur¡¯s mind.

    Then, like suddenly seeing a hidden second perspective on a cleverly done drawing, the mental static came into focus. It was sound. More specifically, the Head Scribe was broadcasting his own voice mentally at the same time he spoke aloud.

    Background bursts of static from the distance suddenly grew clear as well. He heard an announcer give the current time. An imperious voice snapped a command to dispatch a messenger to the third floor. A couple held a long distance conversation about their plan to attend a play in the city. It was as if an entire new world had been opened up to him. Conversations were constantly happening on what the Xian called the mental band.

    Just after the end of the hour ¨C which Volithur knew because of the periodic time announcements ¨C the Head Scribe bowed and thanked them for their time. Volithur strode purposefully to the Castellan¡¯s office and sat near the man¡¯s annoyed Clerk.

    He was close to a level two soul after his time in the Evergreen Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber the previous day. He just needed a little more of a push to get there. And this could be it.

 Chapter 28

    Hector smacked the alarm clock to turn it off and pushed Jasmine to gain a temporary respite from her snuggling. Staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom, he found himself wondering why he woke so early every day. He could set his alarm for an hour later and it wouldn¡¯t cause any problems. He was leaving his job, after all.

    There had been a brief conversation with the chief operating officer the previous day where he had been promised a significant raise if he agreed to stay on another year. Hector¡¯s assertion that he didn¡¯t want more money had been waved away with a ¡®wait until you see the compensation package¡¯. Paradoxically, their effort to convince him to stay only reinforced his desire to leave the company behind. If they were only recognizing his worth as he prepared to leave them, then they had never truly valued him before.

    The previous night, he had cultivated for quite a bit before exhausting himself. The results of the cultivation session had been noticeable. Having first hand experience from two separate lives, Hector couldn¡¯t help but conclude that he had some degree of natural talent. Certainly he saw faster results than Volithur. He suppressed a brief glimmer of annoyance at his dream counterpart¡¯s struggles. No matter how much better Hector could have done in similar circumstances, he intimately understood what it was like to lack talent.

    With a frown, Hector went over the most recent dream. It had spanned slightly less than forty-eight hours. Less than two full days instead of multiple weeks. He had thought the dreams were growing steadily longer as time passed, so only getting two days of Volithur out of a night¡¯s sleep seemed odd.

    At least things were finally looking up for Volithur. He was close to reaching level two, had learned how to properly cultivate in two different methods, and should be able to repeat his performance at the Evergreen Institute in future years. Hector considered the possible outcomes for his dream counterpart. Given Volithur¡¯s lacking talent and the parsimonious distribution of cultivation resources, Hector thought level four was most likely the highest level achievable. There was an outside chance that Volithur would reach level five. Anything beyond that was unrealistic.

    And what about Hector himself? He didn¡¯t have a lot of data points to go by, but he had the distinct impression that he was naturally gifted. Would that be enough, though? Could that be enough when he lived in a world with zero sources of concentrated cosmic energy? He knew talent could somewhat make up for a lack of resources, but this would be an extreme case where there were absolutely no resources.

    He could only discover the answer to that question by making the attempt. And Hector found himself increasingly resolved to dedicate the remainder of his life to the new frontier that had opened up to him. All the hours he had spent optimizing his work environment, conditioning his body, and strictly regulating his finances now seemed like preparation for his latest venture.

    Hector planned to follow the advice of the Marshal to Volithur and raise his soul to the third level before he attempted to improve his body with cosmic energy. He hopped out of bed and went to the dining room table and began to sketch out a table of figures, with soul level as the first column, power rating as the second column, and cost in the third column.

    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.942%" border="1">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">Level</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">Rating</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">Cost</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">0</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">1</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">0</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">1</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">2</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">1</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">2</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">4</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">2</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">3</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">8</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">6</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">4</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">16</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">24</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">5</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">32</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">120</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">6</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">64</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">720</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">7</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">128</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">5,040</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">8</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9558%">256</td>

    <td style="width: 31.9575%">40,320</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    He stopped at level eight, as the cost had grown to ridiculous levels. Up to level three, the power increase surpassed the cost of getting there. After that, the expense rapidly exceeded the benefit. And the cost didn¡¯t even take into account cosmic energy used for other purposes, such as improving the body and mind or using a kinetic domain to fly or an aura as a personal shield. Past a certain point, it would become almost impossible to advance as a Xian outside of the world of Tian.

    Hector ended his impromptu planning session at that point to carry on with his routine. He hit the gym and drove to the hospital, ignoring the voice in his head that suggested he bring some fruit just in case his dad changed his mind about absorbing life energy. He didn¡¯t want to risk another argument¡­ or worse.

    He slipped past the doctor who was always trying to have a conversation about hospice care, then entered the room to find his dad staring at a television program about the worldwide dreaming phenomenon. ¡°Hey dad. It¡¯s been a while since you have watched anything.¡±

    ¡°Hi Hector. I had better things to do than watch television.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get bored of Deronto, did you?¡±

    Terry Thoreaux, once a muscular man and always a stoic and sarcastic person, visibly restrained a surge of emotion. Jaw quivered, the flesh around his eyes firmed, and he took a calming breath. ¡°The dreams ended. Deronto died.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit. I¡¯m so sorry, dad.¡±

    His dad shook his head. ¡°There was always talk about the monsters. They killed more humans every year, people said. But no one ever said we had to worry about dragons.¡±

    Hector stared. ¡°A dragon killed Deronto?¡±

    ¡°Not specifically. Deronto was more like collateral damage.¡± Terry Thoreaux stared at the ceiling. ¡°It was terrifying, Hector. A hideous, eyeless snake large enough to eat mountains slithering through the air like gravity didn¡¯t exist. This wasn¡¯t a creature that a knight could hope to slay. Certainly no one would ever ride on it. It gave off this pressure, like it damaged the world just by being there.

    ¡°It devoured natural treasure after natural treasure. The groves of sacred trees were eliminated one after another as we ran and watched in horror. Then we heard that some sort of ancient pact had been invoked, requiring other species of human to come to our aid against a dragon. They said that a Xian known as The Annihilator was coming to deal with our problem.¡±

    Hector jerked in recognition. He knew of the Lord Annihilator by reputation. Supposedly he was the strongest lord of Amarat when ranking them by offensive power.

    ¡°I was there when The Annihilator shot a purple bolt of thunder that slammed the dragon to the ground. It caused a mighty earthquake that decimated the trees of the forest. A dark cloud the size of a mountain rose from where the beast fell.

    ¡°Once we overcame our horror at the side effects of the attack, we began to cheer. Surely the beast had been slain. Surely it could not still live.¡± His dad clenched his fists. ¡°It burst free of the dust cloud, alive and filled with rage. The air filled with noxious fumes of chaos that killed everything for miles. In the air, The Annihilator took one look at the returned dragon and fled.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Deronto died gasping as the dragon¡¯s miasma caught him. He didn¡¯t have pleasant last thoughts. He was terrified and filled with regret for all the things he hadn¡¯t been able to accomplish.¡± Terry Thoreaux wiped an errant tear from his cheek. ¡°I have drifted off to sleep twice since then, Hector, and I had no dreams.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. That¡¯s just how life is sometimes. I lost your brother in the car crash. Your mother to heart disease. Deronto¡­ to a dragon attack. I don¡¯t want to be the cause of such grief. I love you, son. But it is my time.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Hector said, his chest constricting. ¡°Dad, even if you can¡¯t cultivate back to health, you still have weeks, maybe months ¨C¡±

    ¡°I released all the life energy I¡¯d been hoarding back out into the world,¡± his dad said. ¡°My body has been on the verge of death for days now and my soul has only a single puff left. I don¡¯t want my end to be unpleasant. I¡¯m going to surrender that last bit of life while the person I love most in this world holds my hand. It will be a peaceful passing, Hector. That¡¯s what I want.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, son. I don¡¯t want to add to your pain. But this can¡¯t be stopped and I want my last moments to be peaceful. Can you sit and talk with me for a bit? I have a little time left.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Hector seized his dad¡¯s hand. ¡°Whatever you want.¡±

    ¡°Is Jen still living with you?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get rid of her.¡±

    ¡°I hope she comes to her senses about becoming a beast kin. How is work?¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m quitting. I don¡¯t need the money and I resent their claims on my time.¡±

    ¡°Good for you,¡± his dad said with a smile. ¡°You were always so task focused. I worried that you would never see that life is more than a checklist of accomplishments.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that has changed,¡± Hector admitted. ¡°I just found a new obsession.¡±

    ¡°The cultivation thing?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a very Xian thing to do. Meditate for ten years on a mountain top.¡±

    ¡°The process is actually more scientific than spiritual.¡±

    ¡°If there is one thing I learned from Deronto, it is that everything is more spiritual than first appearance would suggest. Look for the deep insights, Hector. I may not be an expert on the Xian way of doing things, but the deep insights span all of reality.¡±

    Hector squeezed his dad¡¯s hand. ¡°What insights do you know?¡±

    ¡°Only one, and I can barely explain the general idea of it. Life is a series of cycles nested upon themselves to enact order on chaos using the passage of time. It sounds like woo woo new age nonsense when I say it out loud. It¡¯s the change of seasons, the beating of a heart, day following night, breathing, eating, procreating¡­ even dying. It¡¯s all cycles. As much as we might seek to delay the coming of winter, there would be no spring without it. Cycles. Beautiful cycles, Hector.¡±

    Tears streamed down Hector¡¯s cheeks as his father¡¯s voice grew weak. The vitality that had propped up Terry Thoreaux the past several days had gone, and with it all hope of delaying the inevitable.

    ¡°Do you think other people out there will some day dream of my life? If they do, I hope my experiences make for a meaningful story.¡± His dad settled back into the hospital bed, squeezing back with the hand Hector had seized tight. ¡°I¡¯m proud of you, Hector. You¡¯re a good man. I hope you have many happy days ahead.¡±

    Energy that Hector could only identify as not being of the cosmic variety surged out of his father¡¯s hand and into him. The monitors attached to his father switched from their incessant background beeping to clarion alarms. Terry Thoreaux¡¯s final exhalation gurgled free.

    His father had died.

    The passing was as sudden as it was peaceful. A graceful surrender into oblivion in the company of a loved one. The power to go out on his own terms gifted to him by his dream counterpart Deronto, who had been denied the same opportunity due to a dragon attack.

    Hector bent forward to rest his forehead on his father¡¯s cooling hand and wept.

    The immediate aftermath of his father¡¯s passing became a blur. It took some time for someone to respond to the alarms. Had Hector not needed the time, he would have been irrationally disappointed by the delay. There was a ¡®do not resuscitate¡¯ order in his father¡¯s medical file, so there wasn¡¯t a reason for anyone to rush to his bedside.

    He had to answer questions, most of which had to be repeated multiple times to get through the haze covering his thoughts. Arrangements had been made with a funeral home weeks ago, and the hospital kindly set the wheels in motion so that Hector wouldn¡¯t have to. Once they took his father¡¯s body away, Hector drove home.

    Jen discovered him sitting at the dining table not long after he returned and rushed over. ¡°Is everything okay?¡±

    ¡°Dad died.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Hector, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    ¡°He was ready to go.¡±

    She hugged him from behind, resting her head against his temple. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any easier for you.¡±

    ¡°Jen?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t become a dog kin.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a big ask, Hector.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    She leaned harder into him. ¡°I¡¯m not giving away the dogs I adopted.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Jasmine is growing on me.¡±

    ¡°I know Jasmine can be a handful, but she really likes you.¡±

    Hector sighed. ¡°I gave notice at work. Friday is supposed to be my last day. But now I think maybe yesterday might have been my actual last day.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that means you are going to meditate sixteen hours a day now.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like something I would do,¡± Hector said. ¡°There¡¯s a true insight for you, dad: I¡¯m an obsessive personality.¡±

    Jen released him and rubbed his back. ¡°Do you need to call the funeral home?¡±

    ¡°I think they are going to be calling me. Dad planned the service out and even prepaid. I think they might already have a video presentation prepared. He wanted to reuse a lot of the slide deck from mom¡¯s funeral. I¡¯m not really sure what to do with myself until they need me to make a decision.¡±

    ¡°After your mom passed, everyone put together a collage. It was a nice way to honor the memories of better days. You know where he kept the photo albums, if you¡¯re comfortable going to your dad¡¯s house this soon.¡±

    Hector considered her words for a time. His life had always been so focused. At the moment, there was nothing important that needed doing. Putting together a collage of meaningful pictures from the past that would be briefly glanced over by visitors to the funeral home wouldn¡¯t add much value to the production that funerals were, but the act of going through those captured memories and picking out the meaningful moments might be the important part¡­ or even picking out the not-so-meaningful moments that were remarkable now as mundane reminders of how life once was.

    ¡°Let¡¯s drive over to look at the photo albums. And wait until you read the obituary,¡± Hector said, spirits momentarily lifted. ¡°He actually talked to someone from the newspaper to make sure they would put it in the way he wrote it.¡±

 Chapter 29

    Volithur waited almost an hour for the Castellan to emerge from his office, then a snap of the man¡¯s fingers and a gesture to his feet commanded Volithur to heel like a dog. He followed without wasting any effort wasted on feeling slighted, eager to receive the next reward for his impulsive lies.

    They went to a nearby room on the ground floor, within which sat a small building. The walls were made of small bricks that were held in place by a capstone that also served as the ceiling. Between the walls of the chamber and those of the surrounding room, there was just enough space for a human body to squeeze between the two planes.

    Volithur was pushed into a spot against the exterior wall farthest from the chamber¡¯s entrance. ¡°Stay here, be quiet, and once the family are done you will be rewarded with fifteen minutes.¡± The Castellan abandoned him in the cramped alley to be ready to greet the nobles coming for their time in the chamber.

    Other bodies began to squeeze into the tight space, until Volithur found himself squeezed in on from both sides. From what he could see from his place, all of the individuals were level four. The man to his right studied Volithur for a moment before nodding. ¡°Hard to grudge you the chamber when you¡¯re so obviously in need,¡± the man said.

    The woman on Volithur¡¯s left snorted. ¡°Does it sting less having the fruits of your labor stolen by a fellow commoner?¡±

    ¡°Stolen?¡± Volithur stared at the woman whose shoulder pressed tight against him.

    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s right,¡± she responded.

    The man whispered an explanation. ¡°Our job in the fifth household is to perform aura cultivation throughout the entire day to collect as much ambient cosmic energy as possible. Every night, we squeeze into place around the chamber and use our domains to release the energy into the interior. In a few hours, the nobles scheduled for the chamber that day receive the benefit of our hard work. A dozen of us sacrifice our gains to power up the nobles, four of them at a time. In return we get to live lives free of manual labor.¡±

    ¡°All of us have the talent to be so much more than we are,¡± the woman grumbled.

    ¡°Only due to the training we received as part of the deal,¡± the man returned. He nudged Volithur in the ribs. ¡°Just don¡¯t waste this opportunity, lad. We work hard cultivating this energy and the nobles squander most of it. If you make level two today, I¡¯ll be content.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather keep the cosmic energy for my own use,¡± the woman muttered.

    They then heard the Castellan warmly greeting various masters by name and went utterly silent. Thus began Volithur¡¯s extended ordeal. He knew it lasted slightly over an hour and a half based on the time being called out on the band every fifteen minutes. In that time, he cramped up from his awkward posture ¨C the space being too tight for him to do anything other than stand upright. The walls dripped with re-condensed sweat from the hot bodies packed around the perimeter. At about the halfway point, the commoners around him began to grunt and groan and mutter curses as the discomfort of wringing out the energetic contents of their souls.

    Finally, the sound of the stone plug being removed from the doorway of the chamber announced the end of the session. A few seconds later, the Castellan called out for the staff to exit. Volithur climbed out with them, and knew from the crafty expression on the Castellan¡¯s face he was about to get screwed over.

    ¡°How many of you still have energy reserves?¡±

    Of the twelve people present, only five raised their hands. The Castellan dismissed those unable to participate and gestured for Volithur to enter the chamber. Before placing the plug, the Castellan offered a vial of what Volithur immediately recognized as moon water elixir. ¡°To make up for the chamber being understaffed,¡± the Castellan said.

    Volithur accepted the vial with a humble bow and placid features, which twisted into a rage-filled snarl the moment the chamber was sealed. He knew now that moon water elixir was nothing more than regular water infused with cosmic energy. The water didn¡¯t come from Tian, so it hadn¡¯t been deeply impacted by the flow of cosmic energy. It was just garbage passed off as an elixir so that people wouldn¡¯t be disappointed when they received tea powder elixir ¨C after all, they weren¡¯t getting the worst elixir.

    Nevertheless, Volithur drank down the resource he had been given. Then he began to practice aura cultivation with disciplined fervor. Though there were only a small fraction of the servants pouring energy into the chamber as before, the chamber itself was constructed from imported materials that slowly radiated stored cosmic energy ¨C much like radioactive materials with extremely long half-lives. So in theory just sitting in the room would improve his outcome.

    Practically speaking, however¡­ he had been screwed over. The promise made by the Castellan had been fulfilled without costing the family any of their precious resources. Only five mostly-exhausted servants would be inconvenienced in the process, and if the benefit to Volithur wasn¡¯t significant, that could be explained away as bad luck. At that moment, however, Volithur only had two options: make the most of it or pout like petulant child. He was too hungry for power to waste the opportunity, so he had to make the most of it.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Volithur fell into the rhythm of aura cultivation, strictly adhering to the instructions granted to him by Ulysses. He primed his aura, extended it in a permissive state, hardened it, dragged it back towards his body, then opened his soul aperture to suck down the cosmic energy. Again and again, he pulled in as much energy as he could manage, jaw tight with rage because the quality inside the chamber barely exceeded that of the exterior.

    He strained to the utmost, but the stone plug scraped free promptly upon the announcement of the next fifteen minute interval¡¯s end. He had entered at least five minutes following the previous time mark, so he had received perhaps half of the time promised. The Castellan snapped his fingers. ¡°Enough dawdling, Ward Harridan. Your time is up.¡±

    Volithur emerged, stilled his features to stillness, and bowed towards the Castellan. ¡°Thank you for this opportunity, Master Castellan.¡±

    The Castellan drew himself up tall and gazed down imperiously. ¡°This concludes all business between us. You will continue to receive an education in case the Lord General indeed desires you for his retinue as has been claimed. Otherwise, Ward Harridan, you would do well to scamper away to the place set aside for your kind.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Master Castellan.¡± Volithur smartly turned on his heel and marched out the door, then down the corridor, out into the main chamber of the pyramidal palace, through the exit closest to his destination, across the expansive lawn, and into the barracks.

    A somewhat restored Thassily squinted at him from his hammock as he entered. ¡°Where have you been, Harridan? You missed dinner!¡±

    ¡°I was busy getting scammed by the Castellan,¡± Volithur grumbled.

    Within his soul, he felt like he was very close to achieving the breakthrough to level two. All the energy felt tight within him, like it had nowhere else to go. He wanted it to become just ever so slightly more dense so that it could penetrate the walls of his soul and level him up. Sitting in his hammock, he began to use body cultivation on what remained of the moon water elixir in his gut. That source was barely richer than attempting aura cultivation in the barracks ¨C which itself was only a small improvement over mental cultivation.

    There simply were no good sources of energy for him. Which meant he would have to substitute effort for resources. First, exhaust the elixir. Second, use his aura until the cosmic energy levels in the room dropped. Third, mental cultivation. It would either be enough or¡­ well, he would just keep going until it was enough.

    Determination beating strong inside him, Volithur set his intention and got to work carrying out his plan. Things would only get harder from here. More expensive. If he couldn¡¯t overcome this hurdle, then he had no business thinking he could match the Sergeant¡¯s achievement some day.

    He cut his musings short as the dwindling energies from the elixir fell below an intensity he judged worthwhile and began to expand and contract his aura once more. The exertion returned maybe ten percent more cosmic energy than he invested into the operation. Had he been able to use a larger outlay, that would have been more than sufficient. Unfortunately, he could only maximize his return on investment if he used tiny quantities. A larger outlay resulted in a closed loop where he pulled back exactly what he put out in the first place, which was a lot of work for no gain.

    The barracks grew dark and still he labored with his aura. On occasion, Volithur found himself drawing close to sleep and would have to get up from his hammock and pace the room to stir his blood. Always he returned to the hammock as cultivating while walking proved beyond his talents. Eventually, he found the local concentration of cosmic energy insufficient to continue and switched to mental cultivation.

    As the energy within his soul grew infinitesimally denser, Volithur began to despair of the ordeal ever ending. He pushed through the exhaustion and his doubts that he could succeed. Eventually, the cosmic energy on the mental band depleted too much for him to make further use of it and he had to switch back to aural cultivation.

    Midnight had passed already and he couldn¡¯t understand why his soul hadn¡¯t advanced yet. He had thought it saturated to the very peak back at the Evergreen Institute. Yet after all the cultivating he had done in the time since, nothing had happened. Worse, the atmospheric levels of cosmic energy had yet to replenish in his room, making his aural cultivation challenging.

    With a fresh up-welling of determination, Volithur left his room to sit cross-legged on wet grass beneath a moonless, star-filled sky. The rate of absorption increased once more as he found more energy available to him. For a time, he worked his way towards his goal, barely aware that he was shivering in the early morning chill.

    Yet sooner than he expected, the cultivation grew hard once more. For a few cycles of his aura, Volithur struggled to pinpoint what had changed. There seemed to still be sufficient levels of cosmic energy present in the air about him. What could be the problem?

    Then he realized that it was not the collection of energy that proved a challenge, but rather the storage. The energy density within his soul had grown great enough that every attempt to squeeze in more was like trying to add more water to a full cup. It would not go where he wanted it to.

    As the sky began to grow light, Volithur took a deep breath. He had been at work the entire night. There was no way he would let his efforts be in vain. Sealing all other apertures of his soul tight, Volithur began to work at the method he knew best: mental cultivation.

    With obsessive focus, he took tiny gulps of cosmic energy in through his mind, pressing hard to force them inside, then sealing himself up to hold everything. Drips and drabs escaped his control time and again, but by the time the sun rose he had pushed to what he was absolutely certain was the precipice.

    His soul strained and quivered under the load it carried. A single drop of cosmic energy would either advance his state of existence or rupture his very essence. Volithur slowly and carefully drew the last necessary ounce into his mind, strengthened his grip, and opened a tiny little gap in his aperture. With iron willpower, he pushed the drop into the half-solidified contents of his soul.

 Chapter 30

    Volithur woke to the first rays of sunlight. For a moment, his rebooted mind could not process what had happened, why he lay outside in the grass. Feeling so incredibly tired, weak, and empty.

    The recollection sat him upright. He had broken through to the next level. Right? Should he be able to tell one way or the other? Volithur felt almost delirious with exhaustion as he wracked his brain for a test he could run.

    His best idea was running inside to ask someone else. Volithur made it three steps inside before the Barracks Clerk snagged his arm. ¡°What do you think you are¡­ Ward Harridan? What were you doing outside?¡±

    ¡°I was cultivating.¡±

    ¡°Under the night sky? Have you been reading romance novels? Those kinds of silly practices don¡¯t¡­ oh! By Tian itself, you actually advanced out there.¡± The Barracks Clerk shut his hanging jaw. ¡°The timing had nothing to do with the night sky, Ward Harridan. You should not take cultivation pointers from romance novels. Listen to the advice of your instructors instead, or take inspiration from cultivation manuals.¡±

    ¡°I actually did it!¡± Volithur almost collapsed as he spun about in joy. His smile faded as the morning breakfast delivery arrived. He wanted to sleep quite badly.

    ¡°Good day, fellas,¡± Cook¡¯s Assistant Ava greeted them. She slowed as she got a better look at them. ¡°Ward Harridan! Level two already!¡±

    ¡°Just this morning,¡± he said.

    ¡°Then I offer my most sincere and timely congratulations. I still owe you a slice of cake. Today seems appropriate, if you may.¡±

    In the wan light of early morning, Volithur could not see the pox scars or missing teeth, only the animated gesturing of her silhouette. Her friendly demeanor smoothed over the flaws he saw in his mind so that he felt flattered by the attention. ¡°If you can¡¯t, then I¡¯d be content with a friendly chat,¡± he said.

    ¡°Charmer, you are,¡± she commented as she carried the pot past them into the dining hall.

    The Barracks Clerk eyed him. ¡°Don¡¯t get mixed up with the kitchen staff, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ it¡¯s not like that.¡±

    ¡°Good. It¡¯s better for you if it isn¡¯t. The head cook is a petty noble and can be a bit¡­ protective¡­ of the women on his staff. Should the two of you quarrel, it¡¯s hard to say if ward status or noble ancestry would hold more weight with the Castellan.¡±

    ¡°The Castellan!¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the Barracks Clerk elaborated, ¡°the cooks fall under the authority of the Castellan, so any dispute involving the head cook would of course be escalated to that office.¡±

    Remembering his last interaction with the Castellan, Volithur hunched his shoulders. ¡°Is a piece of cake really such a big deal?¡±

    ¡°Do you think that girl is offering baked goods for the sake of friendship? She¡¯s got her eyes set on marrying above her station.¡±

    Volilthur couldn¡¯t see how he would be considered above a cook¡¯s assistant in the hierarchy, but for the moment he had a more pressing question. ¡°Do I get a day off from training for advancing?¡±

    The Barracks Clerk laughed so hard he almost fell to the floor. ¡°Sure you can, just advance three more levels and you can have your day off.¡±

    Volithur left to find breakfast before more fun could be made at his expense. He filled a bowl and sat across from Thassily, who was scowling at his own meal. ¡°Why can¡¯t there be some variety to the food? Rice porridge for breakfast every day. Bread for lunch every day. Some kind of stew for dinner every day. I¡¯m tired of it, Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tired, too,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Thassily said. ¡°Hey, did you reach level two? How did you get ahead of me so fast? I thought you weren¡¯t any good at cultivation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve just got to lie, cheat, and steal your way to the top.¡± His own words didn¡¯t register.

    ¡°List, cheat, and steal¡­ Harridan, uh, I don¡¯t think you should joke around like that.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh, yeah, no, I was joking. Just a saying from back home.¡±

    ¡°Good, good, good.¡± Thassily glanced around at the other soldiers before leaning close. ¡°You¡¯re my best friend here, Harridan, but if you are up to any ¡®schemes¡¯, I don¡¯t want to know about them. Please don¡¯t try bringing me in on anything shady.¡±

    Volithur pitched his voice low. ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m doing shady things?¡±

    Thassily just hook his head. ¡°Anyway, congratulations on advancing.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, Thassily, do I act shady? Does everyone around here think I¡¯m up to something?¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Thassily shook his head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. I¡­ remember more of the meeting with the Lord General than I let on the last time we talked about it.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s blood ran cold. Thassily knew he had never been promised a position in the Lord General¡¯s retinue. Before he could begin to panic, Thassily shrugged and continued. ¡°I¡¯ll never say a word. Until the day I die, I¡¯ll tell everyone I was too nervous and barely remember it. But I know you¡¯re taking risks to get ahead, Harridan. I don¡¯t want in on that action.¡±

    Before he could formulate a response, the Sergeant began yelling the warning to get outside for their morning exercises. Volithur joined in the mass exodus, only briefly stopping when the Sergeant called his name, looked him over, and nodded in approval.

    Then began a long day. Exercising and fighting drew down his already low energy levels. Then in his private lesson with the Sergeant he was given a cultivation manual on domain usage ¨C despite the Marshal¡¯s direction not to use his domain yet ¨C and asked to read the entire thing. There were a lot of visualization exercises and methods of improving tactile sensitivity, but the general idea of a domain was to send a flood of cosmic energy out of the soul aperture connecting to the external world, then manipulate it to form tendrils that could impart kinetic force to objects.

    When Ava arrived as his lesson was wrapping up, she presented him with the smallest chunk of cake he had ever seen, which had obviously been stolen in haste and transported in secrecy. Volithur thanked her profusely, aware that her effort probably could earn her some sort of punishment if she was caught. The cake wasn¡¯t anything near as delicious as the donuts that had been sold down the street from his home in his previous life, but it contained plenty of sugar and his sleep-deprived body wanted more than the three bites he received.

    Ava regaled him with tales of her dead mother¡¯s culinary delights. Apparently, she had many of the recipes memorized and thought she knew how to substitute local ingredients for those that couldn¡¯t be found in the area. She alluded several times to opening her own bakery if she could get out of service somehow.

    When Ava returned to the kitchens, Volithur ate his bread and dragged himself to the classroom. For once, he was glad to be ignored as he wanted nothing more than to survive the next few hours before he could sleep.

    ¡°Congratulations, Ward Harridan,¡± Hazen greeted him.

    ¡°What? Oh, yeah, the advancement.¡± Volithur yawned. ¡°I was up all night.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t grow complacent. Children are expected to reach level two before twelve years of age. I speak of commoner children.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s only response was a wordless grunt. He had reached level two in a little over three months. He might be significantly behind people his age, but he had made excellent progress for someone with no natural talent.

    His exhausted state let him notice only a few things in class that day. First, there was a new student in the room, a wiry fellow with hard eyes who sat at the very front. From the intense glow, he was a level six like the Marshal. Based on the deference shown to him by not only the Head Scribe, but the other family members, he was someone important.

    The other thing that managed to make an impression on him was the return of Khana. She no longer sat towards the front. Instead, she stiffly walked herself up to the transition point between the nobles and the commoners. Her status within the household had quite obviously dropped. Volithur sympathized with her melancholic mood. Being disinherited and sent to the Evergreen Institute would be nearly as big a hit to her as being dragged into slavery in all but name had been to him. He did take the opportunity to get a sense of Khana¡¯s cultivation. Her soul was only a level four.

    Otherwise, the class went by in a haze. If the Head Scribe noticed Volithur drifting in and out of sleep, he didn¡¯t remark on it. No doubt catering to their visitor took priority.

    At the end of class, Volithur sagged in relief that he would finally be able to sleep. He would take a nap right there in the classroom if he thought he wouldn¡¯t be punished for it. Yet as he emerged into the library, he found his path obstructed by the form of Khana.

    It took a moment for Volithur¡¯s training to kick in. He bowed deeply. ¡°Master Khana.¡±

    ¡°Ward Harridan.¡±

    When he moved to sidestep her, she blocked his way once more.

    ¡°Do you require assistance, Master Khana?¡±

    Khana folded her arms and glared at the floor. ¡°I hardly think it¡¯s necessary to call me ¡®master¡¯ any longer, Ward Harridan. In the future your status will far exceed my own.¡±

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Perhaps that was blunter than appropriate, but he was tired.

    ¡°I¡¯m certain all the servants have spread the gossip already. I am to be disinherited. My uncle has granted me a grace period until I reach my majority.¡± Khana straightened her back in a fragile display of pride. ¡°They may have stopped supplying me with cultivation resources, but I am determined to make the most of my time before they send me away. Ward Harridan, I implore you to tutor me in the subject of calculations.¡±

    ¡°Tutor you?¡± Volithur stared at her. He wasn¡¯t sure how she expected that to work when someone of his status wasn¡¯t supposed to spend time with someone of her¡­ well, come to think of it, she didn¡¯t have that status any longer. Which begged the obvious question: what was in it for him?

    ¡°Yes. My uncle will fund two years of training at the Evergreen Institute for me. My future prospects will depend on my academic performance there. Calculations are my weakest subject, so I must improve in that area.¡±

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t the Head Scribe tutor you better than me?¡±

    Khana sniffed. ¡°Why would he?¡±

    Volithur let the obvious question slip out. ¡°Why would I do it? I am not very talented, so I need to spend as much of my free time in cultivation as possible.¡±

    ¡°I can trade lessons with you. I have much knowledge of literature and poetry, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°With regret, Master Khana, I have no need to know those things.¡±

    ¡°Mental training. I can help you develop your mental voice.¡±

    Volithur hesitated. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what the last hour of class does?¡±

    ¡°That is mostly training the mental ear. You cannot train your voice in a group setting.¡± Khana sensed his interest and pushed her advantage. ¡°I promise to trade you equal instruction time. Every noble you ever met has been tutored on their mental voice from a young age. It will be of great benefit to you once you are in the Lord General¡¯s retinue. No one else will offer you such training, Ward Harridan. Please.¡±

    Volithur sighed. ¡°Fine. But not today. I¡¯m tired.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow, then.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Fine.¡±

 Chapter 31

    Volithur slept through dinner that day and didn¡¯t wake until the wake-up call the next morning. As he devoured the rice porridge with toppings of tiny hard-boiled quail eggs, mushrooms, chives, and hot pepper flakes, the Sergeant called for their attention and announced that the thirty-second son was staying at the fifth household. That man¡¯s son, a grandchild of the Lord General, would be joining them for sparring.

    A collective groan met the announcement.

    The Sergeant spoke over their complaints. ¡°You know what he will want, so be sure to give it to him. Energetic, highly technical matches. Pull your punches, but don¡¯t be obvious about it. If he hits hard, do not let yourself respond in kind. Take your lumps like a man and after you have reached your limit you are to surrender the match. Additionally, I expect all of you to dominate the militia members with hard rounds. We must be seen to be strong.¡±

    Unspoken was ¡®but not too strong¡¯. The soldiers were simultaneously expected to be capable underlings and nonthreatening to their masters. From what Volithur had heard from the previous time nobles from the first household had visited, the soldiers took a lot of minor injuries and on occasion major ones. Broken limbs were to be expected when they had special visitors.

    They filed outside to do morning exercises, which they then halted when a procession of figures arrived from the direction of the palace. The Sergeant had everyone bow and remain that way as the Marshal become recognizable among the other figures.

    The Marshal cleared his throat. ¡°Assembly, greet Master Aramar, the thirty-second son of the Lord General and his son, Master Dorian.¡± The man glowed bright enough to put any level six to shame. Volithur estimated he was at least level eight.

    Everyone chanted out ¡°Greetings, Master Aramar. Greetings, Master Dorian.¡±

    ¡°These masters will judge our readiness to serve the Lord General. Please separate into your experience level groups for sparring. The beginner group will be performing weaponless combat. The intermediate group will be engaging in spear combat. The advanced group will be sparring in airborne combat, which will include domain and weapons.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Master Aramar interrupted. ¡°First you will face off with my son in front of your men, Marshal. I have heard of your prowess from the Marshal of the first household. You are a master of the spear with a potent chaos bolt. I expect you to easily beat my son. If you cannot, or will not, then I will see that you are removed from your role.¡±

    Volithur recognized the man¡¯s son, Master Dorian, as the new member of his class from the previous day. Currently, Master Dorian stood at attention, glaring intently into the distance.

    ¡°Master Aramar¡­¡± began the Marshal.

    ¡°You have heard my demands, Marshal. Trainee Dorian, face your opponent. Your fight begins on my command.¡±

    Master Dorian turned to face the Marshal. Though both of them glowed with the might of level six souls, the Marshal was the larger man by more than a little. The boy took a combat stance, feet planted, chin tucked, hands raised to shoulder level. A spear made of light manifested over his shoulder, levitating with its point aimed at his opponent¡¯s heart.

    The Marshal slowly turned to face the boy, and the reluctance on his face morphed into stoic acceptance. Master Aramar barked ¡°begin!¡±

    Events happened in rapid succession. The spear of light lurched forward. The Marshal¡¯s body shot sideways several feet. Master Dorian snapped a foot out in a powerful kick. The spear spun and reoriented upon its target. The Marshal raised a hand and a pencil-thin beam of purple shot from his palm towards Master Dorian and then exploded, sending his opponent to the ground.

    The spear of light puffed into sparkles that fizzled out as Master Dorian groaned from his place on the ground. ¡°On your feet,¡± Master Aramar snapped, and his son hurried to stand, stumbling in his haste and barely managing to keep his feet.

    ¡°Excellent, Marshal. And now, to inspire your troops to work hard, the two of us will have a spar. I will be disappointed if you hold back, Marshal.¡± Master Aramar strode to where his son had fallen and took a stance. ¡°Instead of a countdown, you have the first move, Marshal.¡±

    The Marshal bowed deeply, then straightened. He stepped forward, drew his fist back dramatically, and threw a punch. At the same time, his other hand opened up to release a purple beam at point blank range.

    The bolt struck Master Aramar¡¯s aura and exploded. The fist struck the aura with the snap of breaking bones. Then Master Aramar struck out with a single elbow that knocked the Marshal unconscious. The noble pointed to the Sergeant. ¡°Remove your superior from the field. His underlings should not see him in his current state.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°To the rest of you, I say this. Become stronger. Your value to my father the Lord General is based on how much power you have. None of you meet my standard.¡± Master Aramar glanced pointedly at his own son. ¡°None of you. These weaknesses must be addressed. Now line up across from a regular training partner. Start with hard weaponless sparring. Do not pull your punches.¡±

    Thassily grabbed Volithur and the two of them started to train at their usual intensity. It took only five minutes for Master Aramar to descend upon them. ¡°You two! What kind of amateur display is this?¡± The noble seized them with his domain and dragged them to face him on their knees. ¡°A second level and a first level. What are the two of you, charity cases from the militia?¡±

    ¡°We are new wards, Master Aramar,¡± Volithur announced with a quick bow from his knees.

    ¡°Wards being trained as soldiers,¡± Master Aramar muttered. ¡°I expect better effort from those shown such a kindness by my father.¡± He paused, staring at Volithur. ¡°You look remarkably similar to a man I once knew. He was a steadfast warrior, unlike yourself.¡±

    Master Aramar dragged his son over. ¡°Dorian, you¡¯re sparring these two.¡±

    ¡°Consecutively or in parallel, father?¡±

    ¡°In parallel, using only your left arm. Begin once they stand.¡±

    Master Dorian¡¯s hard eyes bored into them as he gestured impatiently for them to get up. Thassily gulped loud enough that Volithur heard him, then jumped to his feet and charged in with his hands up. Master Dorian shifted his feet with small steps to avoid each strike, then jumped in on a stiff jab to shatter Thassily¡¯s nose.

    Volithur had been charging forward a step behind his friend. He tackled Master Dorian, arms wrapping around waist as he dove, and an elbow to the back of his skull made the world go black for a few seconds. He came back to himself with a face full of grass and struggled upright.

    Master Aramar had gone already. Master Dorian gazed down on them like they were raw sewage. ¡°You reinforce my negative impression of this place.¡±

    They were able to go back to their light sparring, though on occasion Thassily would spot attention directed their way and hit Volithur hard enough to send him to the ground. On those occasions, Thassily would apologize by offering a hand up. The kindness did nothing to alleviate his bruising.

    Once the nobles lost interest, the Sergeant called a halt to their training and sent them to private time. Volithur started to enter the dining hall for his lesson, but the Sergeant told him not to bother. ¡°Your private lessons are done for now. We won¡¯t place you on the duty roster so you can have time to cultivate.¡±

    The news didn¡¯t have an immediate impact on his plans, since he felt certain he could make it to level three without problem. Still¡­. ¡°Sergeant, will I be given further lessons once I improve?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ward Harridan. Master Aramar has directed us to focus our attention on the most promising students. That is what we will do now. I cannot predict what guidance we will receive in the future, but¡­ you should assume your privileges, other than the education, will be reduced.¡±

    So Volithur showered, changed clothes, and sat outside to cultivate. He tried to start with his aura, but he didn¡¯t have enough cosmic energy in his soul to get started after his advancement had drained him. So he began with mental cultivation, then halfway through was able to switch to his preferred method.

    The entire time he worked at gathering energy, his body grew stiff and tender as the results of a morning of hard sparring became evident upon him. When he walked to the palace after lunch, his gait resembled that of an old man and his nose whistled every time he breathed.

    He gratefully sat down in the back row of desks. Hazen flinched when he saw Volithur¡¯s face, muttering something about ¡®foolish fighters¡¯. He received a few other strange looks, but most people never bothered glancing in his direction. He was mostly invisible.

    Mostly. The arrival of Master Dorian proved that there were exceptions. The stern boy noticed him immediately and his face reddened in anger. Master Dorian stomped towards him as if intending to throw hands.

    Volithur reacted in the least bad way he could formulate in his panic. He stood, bowed, and waited for whatever terribleness came his way with obedient passivity.

    ¡°What are you doing in this room?¡± Spittle from Master Dorian sprayed his face.

    The Head Scribe attempted to salvage the situation. ¡°Master Dorian, the Lord General specified that Ward Harridan receive an education.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Just that. One single word. The Head Scribe, expression panicked, cleared his throat. ¡°Ward Harridan, you have learned enough that I consider your education complete. I request you leave the classroom at once and not return.¡±

    Volithur bowed to Master Dorian, the Head Scribe, and the class in general, then turned to go without another word. He found himself tripped by a cord of power from Master Dorian. As he scrambled back to his feet, Master Dorian brought his knee up with fierce speed to contact Volithur¡¯s ribs. He sprawled back to the ground.

    The casual knockdowns continued as Volithur fled the room, his escape interrupted by constant injury. When he finally passed the threshold, Master Dorian called for him to stop and apologize to him.

    As Volithur executed a wobbly bow, he caught sight of the faces that had minutes ago belonged to fellow students. Most of them seemed amused, but he caught some with a worse emotion. Pity. Because he was, indeed, a pitiable creature. The beautiful Rolanda looked like she wanted to run out to offer comfort.

    ¡°I humbly apologize, Master Dorian.¡±

    ¡°The two of us will spar again tomorrow morning.¡±

 Chapter 32

    Volithur barely made it back to the barracks. The next morning, he was beaten again. When Master Aramar asked his son the reason why he had singled out a specific target, the story was told of a Ward demanding an education and a backwards fifth household complying out of ignorance. Master Aramar¡¯s response helped no one.

    ¡°One¡¯s choice of enemies says volumes. You choosing the most pathetic creature on the estate shames both of us deeply, son.¡±

    At that point, Volithur had thought himself saved in an insulting fashion. However, the powerful noble was not finished.

    ¡°He is a ward of my father and his life is guaranteed by the entire family. Because of that, you have five minutes to do whatever you wish to him, so long as it does not endanger his life. After that, you will never think of this boy again.¡±

    Before Volilthur could even fully process what had been said, he was struck by the domain of Master Dorian, sending him tumbling across the grass. He vaguely heard Master Aramar saying that he would replicate the breaking of any bones on his son.

    If the limits placed on the beating made it any less painful, Volithur would not know. He spent most of the time on the ground, desperately trying to protect himself. Fists and feet and invisible clubs of cosmic energy landed time and again, bruising and bloodying his arms, legs, back, and head, all of which were instinctively sacrificed to protect his tender front side.

    He heard Thassily shouting in the background. ¡°Stop it! He can¡¯t fight back!¡±

    The pleas for mercy ended soon, and only two noises populated the morning air: the thuds of impact and the angry, animalistic growls of Master Dorian. Volithur had rapidly passed the point where he could scream or cry or beg. He had entered a survival mode that only let him cover up to absorb punishment as much as possible with non-critical appendages.

    Finally, finally, finally the torment cut off at a command from Master Aramar. ¡°Time! Your pathetic squabble with a level two commoner has ended in his defeat. Do you feel proud, Dorian? Because you have never appeared more pathetic to me than at this moment. You made that pathetic excuse for a man on the ground your equal by seeking him out. Face these soldiers here and tell them you are pathetic.¡± Pause. The voice lowered. ¡°Do not make me repeat myself.¡±

    Master Dorian shouted out at the top of his lungs, voice raw. ¡°I am pathetic!¡±

    ¡°That weak thing on the ground is what you aspired to beat,¡± Master Aramar continued. ¡°It makes me sick to think that my blood, the blood of the Lord General, flows through the veins of one such as yourself. We must purge you of this weakness of character. All professional soldiers line up, you will be fighting my son back to back. Any and all who defeat him will be granted an elixir. And someone drag that mess to the infirmary. I¡¯m tired of seeing it.¡±

    Volithur went in and out of consciousness. He was vaguely aware of being moved. After that, someone inspected him, cleaned his wounds, applied salves, stitched deep wounds, wound bandages, and then left him to rest on a lumpy mattress. He concentrated on breathing, which required him to keep his mouth open. That led to a dry and scratchy throat, but he could barely detect that discomfort.

    Everything hurt, but the reports of his body seemed to come from far away. He was in a different room entirely. A mental space unblemished by thinking. He just existed, content that the biological drive that caused him to fear death had calmed for a while. The pain remained outside of his safe space.

    Night came and he slept. Daylight returned and he was watered and fed and given a bedpan and change of dressing. Slowly, he came back to himself.

    Volithur stared at his surroundings, incurious of the bland furnishings. He had never been to this place prior to his injury and did not know where he was. He did not particularly care, either. For a time, he had forgotten what kind of monsters he lived among. No longer.

    Visitors finally came close to nightfall. Thassily and the Sergeant sat by his bed and talked at him, giving him gossip about what went on at the barracks and complaining about the annoying parts of their job. No one mentioned the noble visitors or what had happened.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Finally, Volithur found it within himself to care about something. ¡°Where am I?¡± Should he be forced to escape, that information would be useful.

    ¡°The militia infirmary. It is outside the estate, in the city. Certain individuals are unlikely to encounter you here,¡± the Sergeant said. ¡°Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes.¡±

    Thassily stared down at him with watery eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll be back with us as soon as it is safe.¡±

    The Sergeant sighed. ¡°That can¡¯t be soon enough.¡± His voice became more professional. ¡°Ward Harridan, there is little else to occupy your time here, so I recommend you cultivate. It is a productive use of time, gives you something to focus on, and might make you valuable enough to avoid rough treatment in the future.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you to your recovery now. Come along, Ward Thassily.¡±

    Volithur did cultivate, in the end. Not because he had hope for a better future, though. His reason was to stop the flashes of memories that exploded into existence when he would relax his guard too much. He did not want to recall the incident. Not ever, if he could help it.

    So for hours at a time, he would mentally cultivate to exhaust his mind. Then for hours more he would use his aura to cultivate. Then he would drift into a peaceful nap. When the restless nerves came upon him, Volithur would wake and begin the cycle again. Mental cultivation. Aural cultivation. Sleep. Repeat. Again. Another time. Once more. Again.

    Endlessly around and around. He lost track of his purpose in doing it. The exercise became simply something that he did. Time passed. He could have marked its movement by the cycle of day and night, or the thrice daily feedings. Perhaps even the slow recovery of his body. The easing of his pain. The ability to move on his own. The decreasing amounts of blood in his urine.

    He chose not to notice those timestamps. Every event drifted past him as he floated within the stream of time. When he was tempted to think, instead he would cultivate. The practice kept him sane, feeling safe, like he had some rudimentary control over his circumstances.

    Eventually, he sat cross-legged once more, able to move about with minimal problems. The small room he had been assigned had become like a sanctum to him. He existed there, sleeping and eating and, most of all, cultivating.

    Until he could not cultivate any further. Volithur tried several times before his vapid mind finally began to focus on the issue before him. He wanted to continue his cultivation but could not. The reason? No more energy could enter his soul.

    As his thoughts began to move in problem-solving mode, Volithur determined there were two fixes. First, and easiest, he could simply release the energy he held and start over again. He could even release it into his body if he wanted to enhance his strength and durability. Or¡­ he could push through the difficulties he was having and reach the next level. That had once been a serious goal of his, he recalled.

    Did he want it still? Power seemed like a good idea, but he would never have enough of it to be safe from powerful nobles. Maybe fading into obscurity was the best thing for him. He could be one of the servants who cultivated all day and then released the gathered energy into the cosmic chamber. He wouldn¡¯t have to worry, because he would be valuable. He wouldn¡¯t have to think, because he would be busy cultivating.

    That could be his life. Volithur pondered it, nodding in appreciation of the path opening up before him. Then he frowned. All of the servants who had done that job were level four. If he wanted to be one of them, he would need to advance a couple more times.

    There was nothing for it then. Volithur would have to advance.

    He gathered his resolve and began to use mental cultivation to squeeze tiny bits of energy into his already packed soul. One bit at a time, he overloaded it. The practice went on for hours, then longer. Volithur slept at one point, then woke up in the middle of the night and continued his efforts. He soon realized that the various apertures were leaking energy at a slow rate. He had to add energy faster than it leaked, which proved challenging when he could only force in the tiniest sliver.

    All of his effort finally paid off when he rammed a final bit of energy home. The contents of his soul quivered as the incremental increase in density pushed it into a phase transition. The walls of his cube-shaped soul drew in the rapidly thickening energy until there was no more, and then a mighty rumble echoed through his entire existence as the soul walls grew thicker and denser at the same time. The shaking intensified and Volithur briefly lost awareness.

    When he returned to himself, Volithur immediately set about cultivating to fill his empty level three soul.

 Chapter 33

    Hector woke to silence. He had not set his alarm for that morning. There was no point when he had no work to attend. Not even a hospital to visit. He didn¡¯t really have anything to do that day. The previous one he had made a photo collage with Jen, called work to let them know he wouldn¡¯t be back, and visited the funeral home to drop off his dad¡¯s favorite suit.

    He could always take a page out of Volithur¡¯s book and mindlessly cultivate to ease his demons. Hector scowled at the thought. That boy had been wronged so often by the damned Xian. He had achieved a level three soul and felt not even a moment of pride.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to tear those assholes apart on your behalf, Volithur.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s Volithur?¡±

    Hector frowned at the woman beside him in the bed. ¡°Damn it, Jen, what are you doing in here?¡±

    ¡°Last night you wanted to talk about the trips you took with your dad, then we both fell asleep.¡±

    ¡°You could have left when I was out.¡±

    ¡°If you had been the first to sleep, I would have.¡± Jen stretched as she stood. ¡°I guess the dogs only like your bed when you are alone.¡±

    Hector got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a minute. When he emerged, Jen waited for him. ¡°Is Volithur your dream person?¡±

    ¡°He is a war orphan turned into a slave. He¡¯s being taught to cultivate by his captors so he can be more useful to them. But then they do things like beat him to within an inch of his life. Most nights the memories I get aren¡¯t very fun.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they are meant to be fun,¡± Jen said.

    Hector¡¯s brow drew down. ¡°What are they meant to be?¡±

    ¡°What are they meant to be? I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°You said they¡¯re not meant to be fun. Then what are they supposed to be?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. They¡¯re¡­ memories from other worlds. Who knows why we experience them. All I can say is that they aren¡¯t stories. They¡¯re real lives. There is a lot less wish fulfillment in those.¡±

    ¡°You know, at the end, my dad asked if I thought other people would dream his life.¡±

    Jen winced. ¡°Oh God, I hope no one dreams mine.¡±

    ¡°I think I have a lot to offer,¡± Hector said. ¡°Imagine all those people out there with the power to bend the universe to their will but don¡¯t have the first clue how to load a truck.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you right now, Justice would not like someone remembering her life.¡± Jen snorted a laugh. ¡°Especially the bits with the happy stick.¡±

    ¡°Happy stick?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling that secret.¡±

    Hector shrugged and turned to stare at his gym bag. He didn¡¯t have enough motivation to go through with a cardio day. He missed a workout on occasion, but he always felt like he had committed an unforgivable sin. Though the guilt could be lessened if he did something else beneficial to his health. Usually that ¡®something else¡¯ was doing a twenty-four hour fast, but he had something else he could do now.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to spend most of the day in cultivation,¡± he said.

    Jen sighed. ¡°Of course you are.¡±

    Ignoring the disappointment in her voice, Hector set himself up on the couch and fell into the natural flow of mental cultivation. When he had built up a decent charge of cosmic energy, Hector attempted to switch to aural cultivation. He knew that while he had extensive memories of using that method, they all belonged to Volithur. Hector had never actually used his aura and shouldn¡¯t expect ¨C

    Hector¡¯s aura expanded, solidified, contracted, and absorbed with a precision and ease that put every memory of Volithur¡¯s determined efforts to shame. After that single initial round, Hector¡¯s eyes popped open. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Jen, I¡¯m either a cultivation genius or the kid in my memories was criminally incompetent.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me.¡±

    ¡°No, seriously, I¡¯ve got to be twice as effective as him.¡±

    Jen poked her head into the living room. ¡°No, about your dream person being incompetent.¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you just saying that these are real lives and not wish fulfillment?¡±

    ¡°Hector, the statistics show that, overwhelmingly, the dreams are of people with great potential. People who have natural talent or receive elite educations or gain true insights.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Hector stared at his wife. ¡°How are there statistics on this?¡±

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s based on self-reported surveys, but a lot of people are studying the dream phenomenon. Haven¡¯t you watched or read the news lately?¡±

    ¡°Until very recently, I didn¡¯t have mountains of free time like you do.¡±

    Jen rolled her eyes. ¡°This is the most significant thing to happen in our lifetimes. You should stay informed about it. The patent office is swamped with all the Jinn devices being submitted. Some of them already have working prototypes. There is this one woman who built a magnetic desalination circuit that is more efficient than reverse osmosis. They interviewed a guy the other day who was healing people with life energy. Nothing major, he wasn¡¯t that strong yet, but he was using advanced Alfar techniques.¡±

    ¡°What about Xian? Are they saying anything about them?¡±

    ¡°Not much. The Xian are considered extremely powerful in the dreams, but they are always tied to their home world. There isn¡¯t a lot of the energy they need on Earth. There is life energy for the Alfar because there is life here. There is space energy for the Orisha, substantial energy for the Titans, legal energy for the Jinn, and I think the Arahant¡¯s illusory energy just comes out of their imagination or something.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute, you got all of that from the news?¡±

    ¡°Yes. This is the news story of our generation.¡± Jen grabbed her tablet computer from the end table and tapped to bring up a website. ¡°See? People are keeping track of everything.¡±

    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9211%" border="1">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Jinn</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Legal Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Probability manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">30%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Alfar</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Life Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Vital manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">20%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Arahant</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Illusory Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Rituals</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">15%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Orisha</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Spatial Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Spatial manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">10%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Titan</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Substantial Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Matter manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">10%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Xian</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Cosmic Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Kinetic manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">10%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Chimeric (Alfar)</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Life Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Totem manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">2%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Strigoi (Alfar)</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Life Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Human manipulation</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">2%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Ogre (Alfar)</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Life Energy</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Self enhancement</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">1%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">Yazata</td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%"><unknown></td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%"><unknown></td>

    <td style="width: 23.2149%">0% (no reliable reports)</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Hector studied the chart, his brain on overdrive. ¡°This isn¡¯t accurate.¡±

    ¡°What isn¡¯t accurate?¡±

    ¡°Xian don¡¯t just have a kinetic domain. They can enhance their bodies until they are able to punch through steel. They have protective auras strong enough to deflect bullets. They can travel between worlds and hurl chaos bolts.¡±

    Jen waved away his protests. ¡°They¡¯re not listing everything here. This is what we can expect to see in the next few years. Like if you click on where it says ¡®spatial manipulation¡¯ ¨C click it, come on, click it ¨C see, it says that two Orisha can link together, then open gates between their locations. The suggested applications section says that transit gates can replace airplanes. Then the potential problems section talks about smuggling and border control. Orisha are gaining strength very fast on Earth because a lot of the energy here is spatial.¡±

    Hector pushed the back button on the browser. ¡°What is a Yazata?¡±

    ¡°Angels, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Angels?¡±

    ¡°They are supposed to be messengers from the gods or something.¡±

    ¡°It says ¡®no reliable reports¡¯ of someone dreaming one. Do they actually exist?¡±

    ¡°The researchers put it on the list, so probably?¡±

    Hector clicked on the hyperlink for cosmic energy and read through the description. ¡®A component of primordial chaos that lends itself to imparting motion, creating protective fields, and launching destructive blasts. This energy is rare in stable universes outside of Tian.¡¯ He glanced at Jen. ¡°How far along are you in your soul?¡±

    Jen shrugged. ¡°I was almost ready to attune before I switched to using a more broad spectrum life energy.¡±

    ¡°And how often do you cultivate?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t call it cultivating, but I do about fifteen minutes a day.¡±

    Hector¡¯s guts twisted inside him. ¡°Fifteen minutes? That¡¯s it? And you almost attuned already?¡± It was just like with Volithur. He was being screwed over by the universe itself.

    ¡°I should probably go to the park and hug some trees or something,¡± Jen said.

    Hector settled back onto the couch and resumed his aural cultivation, pointedly ignoring the source of his annoyance. He didn¡¯t need a readily available source of energy. He would make up for its scarcity with hard work and consistency.

    For long hours, Hector worked at aural cultivation. He didn¡¯t know how it felt to harness other types of energy, but his experiences with cosmic energy compared favorably to his memories of Volithur. He was maybe ten percent more effective than his counterpart at mental cultivation. Yet when it came to aural cultivation, Hector far surpassed his counterpart.

    At that moment, their two lives seemed to have synchronized. Hector and Volithur both sought emotional relief in the repetitive practice of cycling cosmic energy. Of course, the next time Hector slept, the story of Volithur would jump forward weeks of time. Who knew what would happen to the friend he had never met in that time.

    Ever since his dad had told him of the death of Deronto, Hector had worried about Volithur¡¯s end. He didn¡¯t have high hopes for the boy¡¯s future, given how precarious his position was. Hector only hoped Volithur could experience some peace, and maybe even a little joy, before the inevitable happened.

    As Hector worked through lunch, his efforts became more challenging. He moved outside to get at a fresh source of ambient cosmic energy and, for a time, was able to power through the exercise. But then the difficulties returned.

    This time, Hector recognized the phenomenon. The density within his soul had grown high enough to make adding more energy effortful, and the scarcity of energy in the external environment didn¡¯t give him much to work with, so he was squeezing tiny pellets of energy into his soul with each cycle. Hector gritted his teeth and forced the energy density higher one bit at a time.

    And then, with a small metaphysical explosion, the process completed. Hector blew out a big breath and walked into the house to make himself a sandwich.

 Chapter 34

    Volithur had made a small amount of progress towards level four before the Sergeant returned to collect him. ¡°Another level, Ward Harridan! I¡¯m pleased you took to my advice so ardently. Master Aramar instituted a rule in the fifth household that no commoner lower than level four may receive cultivation resources, so your efforts will be greatly beneficial to your future. Are you ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Do I have to go back to training?¡±

    The Sergeant sat beside him on the bed. ¡°Ward Harridan, I understand why you would be reluctant to return. The thirty-second son has¡­ increased the intensity¡­ of training. His son, Master Dorian, was¡­ over-enthusiastic... when sparring you. However, the Marshal believes your absence has been prolonged. The fifth household has a responsibility towards you that must be met. And you cannot be allowed to shirk your training.¡±

    Volithur reached deep within himself to find the resolve to stand. Like putting on a mask, he dropped back into the persona of ¡®Harridan¡¯. He dropped a bow. ¡°Understood, Master Sergeant.¡±

    The Sergeant sighed at the formality. ¡°If it helps assuage your concerns, Master Aramar dictated a list of acceptable opponents for Master Dorian. His spars are limited to myself, the Marshal, and a few others.¡±

    Volithur scanned the Sergeant¡¯s features, noticing a few faded bruises. ¡°Do you hold your own, Sergeant?¡±

    A vicious smile briefly lit the Sergeant¡¯s face before vanishing as if it never existed. ¡°Master Aramar requires us to pressure his son. Though I may only recently have risen to level five, my body has been thoroughly conditioned and I have been fighting my entire life. I hold my own just fine, Ward Harridan.¡±

    The return trip to the barracks proved enlightening. Volithur had not been in the right condition to observe his trip to the militia infirmary, so he enjoyed his first sights of the city. It was cobbled streets, natural stone buildings, slate roofs, painted wooden signs on places of business, and wooden-wheeled wagons in the street. It was like a renaissance fair come to life from back home. The wind blew a tangle of scents to his nose. Manure was in there for sure. Charred meats. Fresh bread. Body odor. Wood. Leather.

    Above them, occasional bodies zipped past. The Sergeant caught his interest and explained. ¡°The estate is a strict no fly zone. Our transports are the only things permitted to break the roof line. The only exception would be if we had a visit from the Lord General himself.¡±

    ¡°Does that ever happen?¡±

    The Sergeant shrugged. ¡°Very infrequently.¡±

    They crossed through a checkpoint to enter through a gate in the estate wall, which took no time at all with the Sergeant as his escort. The militia soldiers waved them through without question. One of the soldiers even gave a friendly ¡°good to see you back¡± to Volithur. The members of the militia likely didn¡¯t know his name, but they had surely witnessed his beating. Volithur pushed that memory away.

    Their journey across the yard took them directly to the pyramidal barracks. Volithur was taken to the dining room, where dinner had just begun. A series of greetings were called to him, which Volithur answered with a lazy wave.

    Then Thassily seized him in a crushing hug. ¡°Are you okay, Harridan?¡±

    Volithur patted his friend on the back. ¡°Fine.¡±

    Thassily dropped him back to the ground. ¡°Did you advance again? I¡¯m still level one!¡±

    Volithur looked at his friend¡¯s cultivation level. The light had stopped shimmering and was frozen in a solid configuration. ¡°Are you close?¡±

    ¡°Everyone says I¡¯m almost there, but cultivating is so much harder lately. It seems to slip back out just as fast as I shove it in.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how you know you¡¯re close. You could probably get there tonight.¡±

    ¡°How? They aren¡¯t giving elixirs to me anymore.¡±

    Volithur put his arm around his friend. ¡°I¡¯ll show you how to cultivate with your aura.¡±

    Thassily looked down. ¡°That would be nice, I guess.¡±

    ¡°We can get to level four without resources,¡± Volithur asserted.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± Thassily gestured to the soldiers around them. ¡°I don¡¯t want this to be my life, Harridan. I don¡¯t want to do good in my training and be sent to unempowered worlds. Why should I be like the people who ruined our city?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be like them. But if you don¡¯t get power ¨C¡±Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°If I do get power, then they make me a soldier and send me to slaughter innocent people. I¡¯d rather be a nobody, Harridan. At least I¡¯d be able to live with myself then.¡±

    Volithur pitched his voice lower than it already was. ¡°What about revenge?¡±

    ¡°If the past three weeks have taught me anything, it¡¯s that there are levels of power I can never hope to reach. I don¡¯t even dare to dream about revenge anymore.¡±

    They ate a somber dinner before returning to the room they shared, where Volithur explained aural cultivation to Thassily. His friend soon picked up the method and practiced it with a mild enthusiasm. Apparently, they had each experienced a rough couple of weeks.

    ¡°This aura technique is great, Harridan, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to go beyond level three. I want to stay away from fights. Maybe I can get a normal job if they see I¡¯m no good at soldiering. Marry a hot local chick even. Though it seems like you¡¯re ahead of me on that.¡±

    Volithur cringed. ¡°Nothing is going on with Ava,¡± he groaned.

    ¡°Not her, the other one.¡±

    ¡°What other one?¡±

    ¡°The calculations girl.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you¡¯re ¨C¡± Volithur froze. He had agreed to teach Khana calculations.

    ¡°Oh, looks like you figured it out. Who is this girl that you promised calculations tutoring?¡±

    Volithur rubbed his temples. ¡°She¡¯s part of the family.¡±

    ¡°The one that¡¯s coming around doesn¡¯t wear the family seal,¡± Thassily said.

    ¡°She¡¯s in the process of being disinherited.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean? Is she getting disowned or something?¡±

    ¡°She will still be a noble by birth, but no have no claim to family resources. And eventually, she won¡¯t even be allowed to stay on the estate. They already cut off her cultivation resources.¡±

    Thassily grunted. ¡°Sounds like she¡¯s in the same boat as the rest of us. At least she¡¯s pretty, though. Neither of us have that advantage.¡±

    Volithur jumped to his feet in mock outrage. ¡°You¡¯re saying I¡¯m not pretty?¡±

    ¡°None of the boys think so. Not even Ronnie, and Ronnie likes boys. But stop trying to distract me. What is going on with the girl? She¡¯s been by three times.¡±

    ¡°She wants to learn math from me,¡± Volithur explained. ¡°That¡¯s it. I am a pathetic commoner to her. She professed her love to Ulysses during the academic competition, and he did not return the sentiment. Now she¡¯s planning to become a scribe and needs tutoring.¡±

    Thassily stroked his chin. ¡°¡®Calculations¡¯ is math. That makes so much more sense.¡±

    ¡°What did you think it was?¡±

    ¡°Sex.¡±

    Volithur squinted at his friend. ¡°How do you get from ¡®calculations¡¯ to ¡®sex¡¯?¡±

    ¡°A pretty girl was asking about you. What was I supposed to think?¡±

    ¡°You just said I wasn¡¯t pretty.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t have moves, man.¡±

    Volithur snorted. ¡°Sure, I have moves. Number one is getting my face punched. Number two is bowing and kissing ass. Number three, the only one that has impressed anyone here, is doing math.¡±

    ¡°I thought you told me you weren¡¯t all that good at math.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a superstar on this world. You probably are too.¡±

    ¡°So are you going to meet up with calculations girl or not?¡±

    ¡°Not. I won¡¯t be stepping foot in the palace again.¡±

    ¡°But calculations girl needs a sexy math tutor¡­.¡±

    Volithur arched a brow. ¡°I¡¯m not pretty, but I¡¯m a sexy math tutor?¡±

    Thassily pointed at him using finger guns. ¡°A sexy math tutor with moves.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going there. She can come here if she wants me to help her out.¡±

    ¡°Showing her hot math is your ultimate move.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± Volithur drawled, ¡°our deal was for an equal trade. I work with her on math and she works with me on band communication. It actually works out more in my favor now since I can¡¯t take classes anymore.¡±

    Thassily held up his hands as if in surrender. ¡°Serious question, no joking, you have to answer honestly. Do you find this girl attractive?¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°So what if I did? There is no possibility of anything happening.¡±

    ¡°The Barracks Clerk told everyone you were soft on the cook¡¯s assistant. Do you like her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a pleasant person. Not very attractive, though.¡±

    Thassily smirked, held up a finger as if about to make a pronouncement, and paused with his mouth open. He froze there, eyelids fluttering as if in a silent seizure, and then slumped to the ground. ¡°Damn. Your aura method works really good, Harridan.¡±

    Sure enough, Thassily now glowed with the brightness of a level two, though there was a sense of hollowness to him. No doubt that was the lack of energy following an advancement. Volithur bumped fists with his friend. ¡°Well done, Thassily.¡±

    ¡°I know it was. Anyway, bed time. The morning workout is different than you remember.¡±

 Chapter 35

    The morning workout was indeed different. Not in a way Volithur appreciated, either. On his home world, he had been forced to do circuit training a couple of times in gym class. He hadn¡¯t liked it then. He liked it less now.

    Everyone started at one of several stations. His was in a series of circles painted on the grass where each held two opponents who had to push each other out of bounds. That rapidly grew old as Thassily muscled him out no matter what Volithur tried. When he dropped to his knees, he found himself hauled into the air and carried over the line. It took barely any time for him to be wheezing for air from the constant exertion.

    The next station required his group to jump over obstacles as they ran about a circular track. Those obstacles included stools, benches, a chest, and a rope suspended at waist height between the barracks door and a pole beaten into the ground. Two minutes of constant jumping proved to be Volithur¡¯s limit.

    He still continued his exertions at the next station, doing push-ups while struggling not to vomit. Then came pull-ups. Then walking lunges. Then side planks. Then bear crawls. Finally, back to start a second loop of the circuit.

    Volithur wound up emptying his stomach at one point. He comforted himself in his misery by noting that he was neither the only nor the first to do so. When they had made four rounds of the circuit, they were made to line up and receive a lecture from Master Aramar about how pathetic they were and how high the expectations of the Lord General were.

    Then came sparring. Fortunately, Master Aramar assigned the beginner skill group to Instructor Gordo and the intermediate skill group to Instructor Lisbet while he took the advanced group ¨C including his son ¨C to train them personally.

    That didn¡¯t make the sparring easy. Instructor Gordo adhered to the stricter standards that had been enforced upon them. Volithur, already exhausted, soon sported a number of bruises. His worries that he might be too traumatized from the beating he took at the hands of Master Dorian to fight proved unfounded. He had sparred with the other members of the beginner group for months and didn¡¯t fear eating bruising damage when he knew the punishment would end when he could no longer defend himself.

    When the session ended, Volithur hid in his room and began to cultivate once more. Though being reunited with Thassily had done wonders for his state of mind, he still felt a gravitational pull towards despair that took effort to resist. Giving his concentration over to the act of cultivation sidestepped the fight between the part of him that wanted to wallow in the grief over everything taken from him ¨C parents, lifestyle, and even his personal safety ¨C and the part of him that wanted to be happy.

    Post lunch, Volithur secreted himself away once more. While he had been forbidden from the classroom, he had not been ordered to attend the afternoon physical conditioning session. That had almost certainly been an oversight, but he would take advantage of it while it lasted. He didn¡¯t even understand how the soldiers handled twice daily exercise sessions.

    The mood at dinner could be best described as exhausted. People ate because they knew they needed to, not out of desire or hunger. Everyone sought out bed early that day, creating impatient lines at the showers. Volithur cultivated while he waited, then cultivated after his shower, alternating between using his mind and his aura. He transitioned into sleep when he began to get a headache.

    Three more days passed like that in quick succession.

    Volithur settled back into the routine, his return to activity pushing back the darkness that had consumed him at the infirmary. He exercised and sparred and ate with the group, and otherwise hid away to cultivate by himself.

    At dinner on the fourth day, a runner came from the palace to request his immediate presence. Volithur stared at the harried man for a second, mind frozen, before the runner began gesturing wildly. ¡°Up, up, up! Master Aramar wants you there immediately!¡±

    Limbs numb with fear, Volithur stumbled after the runner as they sprinted back to the palace. They climbed all the way to the third floor and the runner knocked smartly on an immense wooden door, which sprang open rapidly. A guard stepped out to meet them, asked if Volithur was ¡®the ward in question¡¯, and admitted them when his identity was confirmed.

    Volithur followed the runner into the meeting room, aware of the guard just behind him. Master Aramar sat at a conference table while a group of people stood around him, hands politely clasped as they leaned forward slightly in intimation of a constant bow. Paperwork sat before him.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Master Aramar¡¯s eyes locked onto Volithur and narrowed. ¡°You are Ward Harridan?¡±

    A deep bow. ¡°Yes, Master Aramar.¡±

    ¡°The Lord General commanded you be given an education.¡±

    After a moment of silence, Volithur felt prompted to respond. ¡°Yes, Master Aramar.¡±

    ¡°And you claimed this was because my father wants you as a footman?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Aramar.¡± This was no time to deviate from his story. Lying directly to the thirty-second son might earn him a slightly worse fate than he already qualified for, but there remained some hope of selling his narrative.

    ¡°Stop bowing and look at me when you speak.¡±

    Volithur straightened out of the bow he had held their entire conversation. ¡°Yes, Master ¨C¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not looking me in the eye. Do you lie?¡±

    ¡°No, Master Aramar.¡±

    ¡°Then why do you look so nervous?¡±

    ¡°I fear you, Master Aramar.¡± Surely a little bit of truth couldn¡¯t hurt his cause.

    ¡°You fear me because you lie?¡±

    ¡°I fear you because Master Dorian beat me, Master Aramar.¡±

    The thirty-second son sneered. ¡°And you think you are worthy to be a footman to the Lord General? To watch his back on the battlefield, to carry his messages, and have possessions entrusted to your safekeeping?¡±

    ¡°No, Master Aramar.¡±

    ¡°Do you admit you have lied?¡±

    ¡°I spoke truly, Master Aramar.¡±

    ¡°And yet you are so craven you cannot meet my eyes. Why should you be trained to become a footman, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°The choice was not mine, Master Aramar.¡±

    The thirty-second son remained silent. Volithur did not speak, either, knowing that his fate hinged entirely on whether or not this man believed the Lord General carried some misplaced fondness for him. The Castellan took advantage of the break in the interrogation. ¡°Master Aramar, surely the Lord General would not place such esteem in an unempowered child.¡±

    Master Aramar sniffed. ¡°My father is capable of sentimentality on occasion. This¡­ weakling¡­ has the right look, and has been given the right name. It¡¯s possible. Though I expect his regard to vanish once he sees how the memory of Footman Harridan has been tarnished.¡±

    Volithur caught the flash of disappointment on the Castellan¡¯s features. It appeared that the business between the two of them had not completed after all. His thoughts were interrupted by Master Aramar announcing his verdict. ¡°He was taken from the same world as my chamber maid. That means he has trained for less than half a year. He reached the third level in that time. This is not impressive progress, but neither is it terrible enough to justify modifying the terms of his contract. Do not expend resources on him and do not place him into a class with nobles. He may have use of the library for self study to fulfill the Lord General¡¯s command.¡±

    Master Aramar stood and stomped closer to Volithur, which caused him to involuntarily flinch back and run into the guard who had remained on his heels the entire time. ¡°And you. Become worthy of the regard you have been shown. Leave now.¡±

    Volithur bowed and darted around the guard to pass out the door. He had almost escaped the palace entirely when he heard his name being called. ¡°Ward Harridan! Ward Harridan!¡±

    He slowed, considered leaving anyway, and then stopped. ¡°Hello, Master Khana.¡±

    The girl stalked forward, a stern look on her pretty features. ¡°Why did you disappear for so long? Do you not intend to keep the terms of our deal?¡±

    ¡°I was severely injured in training, Master Khana.¡±

    ¡°Well, I still need help with calculations.¡±

    Volithur nodded. ¡°Since I have returned from the infirmary, I am able to tutor you now.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± she nodded primly. ¡°Stay behind after class tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I am no longer permitted to be in class, Master Khana.¡±

    She paused. ¡°I had forgotten about that. You probably wish to avoid running into Master Dorian, so I can¡¯t have you waiting outside either. Meet me in the library after dinner.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Master Khana.¡±

    ¡°And cease with the deference. The unnecessary courtesy only reminds me of the status I¡¯ve lost.¡± Khana huffed away, returning to the depths of the palace.

 Chapter 36

    Jasmine¡¯s snuffling brought Hector awake. She stood above him on the bed, of course. For some reason, she seemed interested in the scent of his hair. Since Jen had moved back in, the bar of soap in the shower he used for every cleaning purpose had been displaced by bottles of body lotions, shampoos, and conditions. He used whatever was handy, as he always had, and consequently smelled like fruits and flowers and spices.

    Hector pushed the dog away as he sat up, and she responded by ducking under his arm and laying across his lap. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you do, your brother is still my favorite. He is polite. He asks for attention instead of demanding it.¡±

    The dog smiled up at him in jovial denial of his claims.

    For a few minutes, he tried to decide what he wanted to do that morning. He had to be at the funeral home after lunch to prepare for the viewing. He didn¡¯t think there was much preparing to do. Other than the colorful obituary, his dad had gone for very standard choices. Terry Thoreaux may have been a bit of a joker, but he had understood the importance of the rituals surrounding death.

    Going to the gym still didn¡¯t seem appealing. ¡°I guess I cultivate again,¡± he said to the dog. Jasmine had no objections to his plan, either.

    It made sense to have an early focus on his soul. The first three levels were easy compared to what came after and he would need the increased soul capacity to enhance himself in body and mind. After level three, he would start working on improving his body. Hector thought he understood enough of the process to get started. Hopefully Volithur would receive further instruction at some point. And if not¡­ well, Hector would have to figure it out himself.

    He continued his self-improvement efforts until just before lunch, when he had a quick protein shake and an apple before heading over to the funeral.

    Jen accompanied him. The presence of his wife proved a worrisome comfort throughout the entire afternoon. She made everything easier; a partner for when a distracting conversation would be helpful, someone to answer the invasive questions of visitors when Hector tired of the repetition, and occasionally an assistant when an elderly friend of his father struggled with the long line.

    The crowded room, as trying as it could be at times, heartened Hector. His father had made many friends over the years, and many of them came to pay their final respects. He wondered who would show up for his own funeral. He was not a warm person or a fun time. He was a reliable coworker. More accurately, he had been a reliable coworker. Now he was a cultivator. A career as lacking in social interaction as it was in paychecks.

    Towards the end of the evening, he was approached by a group of executives from work. They waited in line, shook his hand, offered appropriate condolences, and then asked to meet with him for lunch the following Monday.

    Because of the late hour and the dwindling crowd, Hector chose to bring them to an empty side room instead. ¡°Gentlemen, I don¡¯t want to waste your time over a lunch. I¡¯m done working.¡±

    The chief operating officer patted his back. ¡°It¡¯s understandable that you need some time off due to the stress of life events. That is a perfectly natural and right thing for you to do. But I think that once you have some time to settle in, you¡¯ll find that you miss the job. You are an important person in our company, Hector. A critical person.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s funny you say that, because I was treated like the least of my peers.¡± Hector held up his hands to stop the protests they had begun. ¡°I never made a big deal about it, because it was the challenge of the job that I liked, not the status or the politics.¡±

    The company president leaped on that. ¡°Where are you going to get that challenge in retirement?¡±

    ¡°Cultivation,¡± Hector said.

    The president¡¯s disdain grew on his face like a cancer. ¡°Cultivation? Like a Xian? Hector, there isn¡¯t enough cosmic energy on Earth for you to achieve anything as a Xian.¡±

    ¡°Then it sounds like I found my challenge,¡± he said.

    The chief operating officer folded his arms. ¡°Tell you what, Hector. Let¡¯s give it a full week. We can do lunch the Monday after next. Give you a chance to reset your expectations.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Jerry¡­¡± Hector began.

    ¡°You were a hell of an employee, Hector. I want to get you lunch on my dime.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Hector said, more out of politeness than agreement.

    ¡°Good man. We¡¯ll get out of your hair for now. I¡¯ll call in a week to set something up.¡±

    With another round of hand-shaking, the suits were gone. Hector breathed a sigh of relief as Jen appeared to sit beside him. Very few people in his orbit knew that he had separated from Jen in the first place, so there hadn¡¯t been any awkward questions about her return. They had largely slipped back into old behavioral patterns.

    As much as he needed a stable presence in his life at that time, Hector felt discomforted by their situation. She might want to pretend everything was fine and take another shot at their relationship, but Hector did not. The resentment sat below the surface most of the time, all but invisible, but his affection for her had been irrevocably poisoned. It didn¡¯t matter if he had been responsible for a lot of their marital issues. She had taken steps he considered unforgivable.

    The united front they showed the world was an intentional fraud in his mind. What complicated the issue was that he had asked Jen not to become a dog kin. And she had agreed. Granting him that kind of claim on her life trajectory implied too much.

    At some point, he would need to have an honest conversation with her. Not at that moment, obviously. Nor the next day when the memorial service would be held. But some day soon, before things became more of a mess then they already were.

    ¡°Did they talk you into going back to work?¡±

    ¡°They tried.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell them what you are doing instead?¡±

    Hector smiled. ¡°They weren¡¯t impressed with my plans.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really fit with the image of the ambitious Hector Thoreaux. Well, it does, but it also doesn¡¯t. Xian are powerful in the dreams. But they are tied to their home world.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that is true?¡± Hector frowned as he recalled the dream where Volithur had been transported across worlds in a massive transit sphere. That thing had been large enough to transport what he estimated was half a million soldiers, their equipment, and their captives. That was after transporting everyone there and fighting a battle.

    ¡°Do your research. There is a YouTube channel where a historian has been explaining the worlds we dream about. He says the Xian on Earth are not a cause for concern and we might actually pity them once everyone else gets their full powers.¡±

    Hector shook his head. There was some disconnect between the things he had seen through Volithur¡¯s eyes and what everyone said. Even Volithur¡¯s experience cultivating didn¡¯t quite match up. If he reconstructed an itinerary for the Lord General¡¯s travels, the man had left Tian with his personal guards, picked up an army on New Mart, traveled to Volithur¡¯s home world, presumably did some fighting, traveled everyone back to New Mart, then brought his guards back to Tian.

    That was four movements between worlds and a battle. Even if the Lord General sat out the entire battle, he had surely been prepared to fight. So the question became: how expensive was it to zip between worlds? If it was cheap, then maybe the Lord General filled up his metaphorical fuel tank on Tian and could afford to hop around several times before returning. If it was expensive to do on the scale that Volithur had witnessed ¨C which seemed a safe bet to Hector ¨C then something else had to be going on.

    Were there high grade elixirs that could be brought on trips to replenish their reserves? Did some of the Lord General¡¯s retinue donate their cosmic energy to him like was done in a cosmic chamber? Hector frowned in thought. Any method of extending their attack range using resources brought from Tian would be an expensive exercise of logistics.

    Judging by how strict the fifth household of the Shaocheth family was with resource distribution, Hector had to assume that the limiting factor was transportation costs. If salt from Tian was considered a resource valuable enough to award in a prestigious competition, then moving between worlds probably was not cheap. Hell, they had given Volithur a pebble from Tian. Transportation costs must be prohibitive if a common river rock was considered valuable.

    So moving armies between worlds was definitely expensive in terms of cosmic energy expenditure. The Lord General did it anyway. Part of that could be attributed to the fact that the Amaratti Xian had a martial culture and honor demanded battle or some such nonsense. But money always came into play in human affairs. No one would play at war for long if it cost more than could be afforded.

    Thus he consciously arrived at the same conclusion his gut had: Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth used ridiculous amounts of cosmic energy to beat up people from unempowered worlds and didn¡¯t have to haul around vast amounts of Tian resources to refuel himself or his soldiers.

    The Lord General had some cost-effective method of refilling his soul with cosmic energy during excursions to unempowered worlds. That was the only thing that fit the facts he knew.

    ¡°I¡¯ll overcome the resource deficit on Earth,¡± Hector said aloud.

    Jen leaned into him. ¡°If anyone can, it¡¯s you.¡±

 Chapter 37

    The next day, Volithur went through the same routine prior to dinner: breakfast, insane conditioning, hard sparring, cultivate during free time, lunch, hide and cultivate some more. After dinner, he found his way to the library, moving carefully to avoid encountering any of the nobles with a tendency to cause him problems.

    He found Khana waiting for him. ¡°I was beginning to think you wouldn¡¯t show, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I have a longer walk to get here.¡±

    Khana shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll account for that tomorrow. Now teach me your method of calculating.¡±

    ¡°Can we use the chalkboard in the classroom?¡±

    She hesitated. ¡°Will you wash the board when we¡¯re done?¡±

    ¡°Never mind. We can just do it mentally.¡±

    ¡°Would the chalkboard help?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Khana glared up at the ceiling. ¡°I¡¯ll clean the chalkboard after we¡¯re done. I might as well prepare to perform domestic labor.¡±

    When they stood in front of the chalkboard, it quickly became apparent that Khana could not divide numbers at all and could only multiply with great difficulty. She also lacked accuracy when it came to adding and subtracting large numbers, often forgetting to carry the one. Volithur decided that he might as well dive into the deep end and started teaching her the method of long division he¡¯d learned on his home world.

    Several frustrating hours passed before Khana called a halt, claiming her head hurt from thinking too hard. When Volithur inquired about his lesson on band communication, Khana sighed dramatically. ¡°Your lesson can be first tomorrow so I don¡¯t get too tired to teach again.¡±

    ¡°To keep it fair, maybe tomorrow should be only my lesson.¡±

    Khana scoffed at the suggestion. ¡°I need lessons more than you do.¡±

    ¡°And your needs count for more than mine because you are a noble,¡± he snapped, his irritation with her as a student finally boiling over.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she stated.

    Volithur shook his head to clear it. Of course she thought that. Petty nobles were still a higher class than commoners, even if they might work in the same jobs. The fact that he could interact with her as an equal during their lessons shouldn¡¯t be allowed to distort the reality of the world. ¡°Well, I insist my lesson come first from now on.¡±

    ¡°I already said it would,¡± Khana snapped. ¡°You are very annoying, Ward Harridan.¡±

    He didn¡¯t get another word in before she stomped out of the room. As he stared at the board covered in their chalk marks, Khana stomped back in with a rag and pail of water. ¡°I¡¯m not cleaning for your viewing pleasure, Ward Harridan.¡±

    He performed an exaggerated bow. ¡°Then I take my leave of you, Lord Khana.¡±

    ¡°Very humorous, Ward Harridan. Mock my drop in status. Next you can recount how I professed my love on stage for a man who has refused to even speak to me since.¡±

    Volithur almost apologized, but he suspected she didn¡¯t enjoy pity any more than he did. Instead, he left the palace for his hammock and another day.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    His new schedule continued for two more days before Master Aramar and Master Dorian departed with their retinue. The brutal workouts and bruising sparring reverted to morning mobility and light sparring. Volithur continued the long stretches of aural and mental cultivation, finding he still enjoyed the peace found in those moments even as traumas faded into the past.

    The exchange of lessons with Khana continued. They had each retreated away from open antagonism by shifting to a more formal relationship. For his part, Volithur felt bad that he had added in some small way to the misery of the girl¡¯s current circumstances. Though she might not have it as bad as him, she also had yet to complete her fall from grace.

    Khana¡¯s demeanor towards him shifted when he showed up with a serious lump on his cheekbone the second day of their lessons. She had asked if he needed to return to the infirmary, and the way he had laughed it off as a minor bump seemed to have impressed on her the fact that he did not lead a charmed existence that would let him smoothly slide into the orbit of the Lord General.

    Her improved attitude did not translate into competent instruction. Though she constantly remarked that Volithur must have a natural talent for the mental arts, the fact remained that he developed his mental voice slowly. To ¡®speak¡¯, he had to send vibrations into the mental band. It was a challenging skill to make any intelligible noise at all, but the sign of proficiency was duplicating the sound of your physical voice. True masters of the art could mimic any noise they heard onto the mental band.

    Volithur¡¯s goal was to achieve rudimentary competence. He didn¡¯t quite know what his future would hold. Maybe he would become one of the servants who ran the cosmic chamber. Maybe he would be the guy who called out the time every fifteen minutes while the sun was up. Hopefully not a soldier. In addition to the moral reservations that Thassily expressed, Volithur neither wanted the risk nor enjoyed the lifestyle.

    When it came to his role as a tutor, Volithur saw mixed results. Khana¡¯s skill at mathematical operations improved greatly, but she could not grasp algebra ¨C what the Xian termed variable calculations. Rather than obsess over the topic, Volithur concentrated on what he could do. If she intended to become the primitive equivalent of an accountant, then she wouldn¡¯t need to be able to do more than she already could ¨C just so long as she could quickly and accurately do what she already knew.

    To that end, Volithur taught her every trick and shortcut he knew to improve her speed. Moving the decimal point to multiply by ten. The finger trick for nines. Memorizing multiplication tables for smaller numbers. It would not be accurate to say Khana was enthusiastic about learning, but she displayed some amount of pride in her progress.

    Days passed in quick succession. The soldiers all shared a small canister of rum to celebrate the departure of the thirty-second son. Thassily had been there when the daughter of the brewer delivered the canister, and apparently instantly fallen into lust. From what he could put together from Thassily¡¯s descriptions, the woman had an ample bosom and ample behind, both of which his friend appreciated.

    Thus began The Adventures of Thassily, the tale of an untrustworthy narrator¡¯s attempts to win the heart of the hot chick whose dad makes booze. The story mostly involved sneaking out after curfew to visit the distillery and offer free labor so that he could talk to the girl. There was a lot of flirtatious double entendre that Volithur was almost certain didn¡¯t happen. In almost every installment the narrator performed a feat of strength that impressed either the girl or her father. There were challenges getting past the gate guards, who Thassily would avoid or bluff his way past. Volithur suspected the truth of those encounters could be summed up as his friend being recognized due to training with those soldiers.

    Thassily told another installment of his adventures at breakfast each morning, which soon became the highlight of Volithur¡¯s day. Though he knew them to be mostly embellishments, with a few overt lies sprinkled in for flavoring, they presented a narrative that was silly and fun. And there was some truth to the stories. His friend really did sneak out to the city every night. Whether or not the budding romance actually existed outside of Thassily¡¯s head¡­ well, that was the dramatic tension.

    The most surprising development, as far as Volithur was concerned, was his progress in weaponless combat. A couple of new soldiers had joined the militia recently, young adults only a few years older than him. They were bigger and stronger, yet Volithur not only held his own in sparring, he could clobber them if he felt like turning up the heat.

    The new guys would face squarely off with him and attack straight on like fools while Volithur cut angles to close the distance, then threw punches and kicks, hitting high and low, left and right, mixing up his striking to open up paths for the next hit. He finally had an inkling of what the older soldiers had been doing to him in sparring.

    Those insights proved to be a very minor help when he faced off against better opponents. He began to sense how combinations were being used to draw him out of a solid defensive posture. Yet knowing the tactics being employed against him was only half the battle. Volithur still had trouble reigning in his impulses to flinch and reach with his blocks.

    His steady efforts at cultivation didn¡¯t show instant results, but Volithur knew the next level would take four times as long as the previous one. Level three took almost a month, so he was looking at four months. Longer, truthfully, since he no longer cultivated the entire day like he had in the infirmary.

    It didn¡¯t matter. Volithur had no intention of stopping.

 Chapter 38

    A second viewing immediately preceded the funeral service. Attendance was a little lighter than the previous day, but it was still busy. Hector endured the empty platitudes from well-meaning acquaintances. He found himself exhausted by the ordeal. It felt like every new face was stealing a portion of his emotional energy.

    By the time the funeral director asked them all to find a seat, Hector was ready for it all to be over. Jen sat beside him and took his hand in both of hers. The flat screen televisions mounted on the walls stopped displaying the power point presentation that had been on constant loop for the past two days. Then Drew, one of his dad¡¯s oldest friends, stepped forward to officiate.

    For the next half hour, stories of his dad were told. Many of them were humorous in nature. A few were tales of his generosity and warmth. Drew did an excellent job of balancing the need to keep the service moving and welcoming each speaker forward. And then came the final portion.

    Drew looked around the room. ¡°If everyone is done, we have one last person who would like to speak.¡± He nodded to the funeral director standing at the back of the room. A few seconds later, the television screens came to life once more.

    His father in a hospital bed waved jazz hands at the camera. ¡°Surprise!¡±

    As the laughter was still ongoing, his father continued speaking, not there to judge the reaction his joke had evoked. ¡°I am incredibly honored to be asked to speak at this event. Honestly, the guy was not my favorite person, but don¡¯t tell him that! Seriously, though: thank you all for coming. I tried to live a good life and there were so many people who meant a lot to me. If even a fraction of you made it out to attend my boring service ¨C no offense, Drew ¨C then the place must be packed. To show my appreciation, at this time the body double I hired will jump out of my casket to perform an interpretive dance I choreographed.¡±

    More faces turned towards the casket than Hector would have expected.

    His dad¡¯s laughter filled the room. ¡°Some of you looked! I might be dead, but I know some of you looked. Anyway, I just wanted to extend my love to each and every one of you¡­ from beyond the grave. Spooky!¡±

    The screen faded to black and Drew turned to the audience. ¡°That¡¯s it for the service, folks. Some of us will be meeting for a beer at the tavern down the street if you want to drink a toast in Terry¡¯s honor. Otherwise, the family appreciates you coming out today.¡±

    The way ¡®the family¡¯ was said to refer to Hector felt odd. He was so used to those words being used in reference to the members of the Shaocheth clan. In this context, ¡®the family¡¯ meant just Hector. He was the only one left. As he waited for the room to clear out, the funeral director approached and promised to contact him in a few days when the cremation had been completed. Then Drew came in for a big hug. ¡°Are you coming to the tavern?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m drained from this whole experience.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s understandable, my man. I will catch up with you in a few days. If you want to talk before then, you have my number.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Hector assured the man.

    Jen waited with him until the room had cleared, then they drove home. While Hector sat dejectedly at the dining room table, Jen stared into the refrigerator. ¡°We have casseroles, pastas, and salad as dinner options.¡±

    ¡°I wish people wouldn¡¯t just send random food items to me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, it¡¯s not healthy enough for your tastes. What do you want to eat?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m having chicken and broccoli.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to eat any of this? It¡¯s going to go to waste before I can finish it all.¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask anyone to send me food. And I really cannot bring myself to care about food waste at the moment.¡±

    ¡°So what now? Are you going to sit in your room and meditate again?¡±

    ¡°What else am I supposed to do, Jen? I¡¯m spent. At least cultivating is a productive use of my time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the only family you have left, Hector. Don¡¯t you want to spend time with me?¡±

    And so it began. Hector folded his arms. ¡°I accept that you¡¯re back in the house. You and the dogs have a warm place to stay and I won¡¯t complain about covering the bills. But the two of us can¡¯t go back to what we were before, Jen. I don¡¯t feel the same way about you any more.¡±

    ¡°In almost a year, you never dated anyone else. That means something, Hector.¡±

    ¡°And you dated several someones. Does that mean something, too?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m back now,¡± Jen said.

    ¡°And I¡¯m not.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Jen moved to stand directly in his line of sight. ¡°Why stop me from becoming a dog kin?¡±

    ¡°Because that would be a terrible decision,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Why should that matter if you don¡¯t care for me?¡±

    ¡°Just because I stop someone from stepping in front of a bus doesn¡¯t mean I want to spend the rest of my life with them. We had a few good years, Jen. Then a few bad ones. Then it ended. This right here is called ¡®being roommates¡¯. Don¡¯t expect it to become anything more than that.¡±

    Jen slammed the fridge door. ¡°We can talk about this later. It¡¯s been a hard day.¡±

    Hector remained in his seat as his wife left the room. Then, sick of everything, he went to his car and began to drive without a destination in mind. He found himself at the small community park after a short trip and got out to sit on a swing that didn¡¯t quite fit his adult frame.

    As the light of day faded, Hector began to cultivate. At first it was just the escapist instinct he had adopted from Volithur. Lazy, repetitive, calming motions of his aura to lull him into an artificial peace. It came with the illusion of progress ¨C or, rather, actual progress but at a glacial pace.

    The unending drive for optimization in his heart stirred, pushing him towards deliberate experimentation. Hector pushed his aura as far out as possible, seeking to maximize its volume when it was in its expanded position so that he could drag back as much cosmic energy as possible. Then he began shaping his aura for maximum benefit. The ground and other solid objects partially obstructed his aura and didn¡¯t have as much cosmic energy as the air, so he began to expand only up and to the sides, which further increased his yields.

    Then Hector made his first true discovery. The cosmic energy seemed to grow more plentiful higher in the air. So Hector left the swing to climb to the top of the slide, where he stood and extended his aura straight up to capture a sample. The increase in energy density was small but noticeable. Which kicked his mind into a higher gear.

    His half ass attempts at optimization had triggered Hector¡¯s problem solving skills to emerge from the fog of the day¡¯s events. Cosmic energy appeared to increase with altitude. Did that mean he should cultivate on rooftops? Maybe spend time at that rooftop bar downtown? Or could he be more extreme and book cheap flights to cultivate in the air?

    Maybe not that last one. He could comfortably retire on his savings, but he would not be able to afford constant plane rides. A few drinks at a rooftop bar, though¡­ that was certainly within his budget. And his purpose wasn¡¯t imbibing beverages, so he could nurse a single drink for hours while he sat in silence and worked his aura.

    A conclusion reached, Hector departed the park and drove to the bar. The place was fairly busy, but he happily waited half an hour to get a table. While he stood in the waiting area, Hector went through round after round of aural cultivation, finding himself pleased with the energy density. It was perhaps a five percent improvement over ground level. That meant cycling his aura twenty times in his current environment equaled the work of twenty-one times at his house. Not an exciting difference in the eyes of most people, but it got Hector¡¯s blood pumping. Innovating a five percent efficiency boost when he was managing the warehouse would have been worthy of celebration.

    He finally got a seat and had to wait another half hour for a waitress to notice him. While his fellow customers at nearby tables seemed put out by the lacking service, Hector found himself immensely pleased by the neglect. He hadn¡¯t actually come here to eat or drink, after all. He just wanted to borrow the building¡¯s six floors of height.

    The waitress took his order for a mojito and disappeared for ten minutes. Hector had been inspired by Volithur in his drink choice. The fifth household seemed to only serve rum, which Volithur had rapidly gotten a taste for. Choosing rum based cocktails in the future would be a tribute of sorts to the benefactor Hector would never meet.

    He took his time sipping at the drink, focused on his cultivation. By the time two in the morning rolled around, he had only ice melt remaining in his glass and felt that he had made good use of his time. The waitress from earlier stopped by to take his glass, drop off a bill, and announce they were closing up. Hector dropped a twenty dollar bill onto the table and left the bar. Being allowed to spend six hours in that environment had been well worth his investment.

    When he arrived back home, Hector retrieved a ladder from his garage and went to sit on his own roof. The energy density proved good enough. It was better than his bedroom and wasn¡¯t much worse than the bar had become after he drained its atmosphere for hours on end. The constant stream of fresh air prevented the depletion of cosmic energy on the roof, which gave him another data point to work with.

    Hector needed to find a tall rooftop location that was open to the elements. Looking out of glass windows onto the city skyline wasn¡¯t his goal. He needed fresh air from the highest altitude he could reach without drawing attention to himself.

    He pulled out his phone and began researching the local area. The first thing he found that met his criteria was a spot half an hour¡¯s drive from his house. A hiking path wound through a nature sanctuary, stopping at several lookout points. One of those locations had an elevation superior to a sixth floor bar in the city.

    The thought that he should visit in the morning brought with it the realization that it already was morning. Hector¡¯s mental torpor from a night of no sleep following a stressful day could not compete with his hope of unlocking another secret of cultivating outside of Tian. So Hector got in his car and drove to the nature sanctuary.

    Which had not opened yet. A metal gate prevented entry into its parking lot. Hector went to a nearby restaurant and ordered breakfast while he waited. Though he typically fasted between dinner of one day until lunch the next day, he had not eaten the day of his dad¡¯s funeral. Eggs and bacon and toast went down his throat rapidly, followed by a glass of orange juice.

    The nature sanctuary had opened by the time Hector returned, and after spending a few minutes to memorize the map painted on a sign in the parking lot, he set off to reach the tallest lookout point. It took him two hours to reach his destination, during which he came to realize he had not prepared for a hike.

    He still wore a suit and dress shoes from the funeral service. Combined with his lack of rest and insufficient hydration, it added up to a miserable experience. Nevertheless, he persevered. At the end of those two hours, he arrived drenched in sweat, his suit pants ripped from thorns, his jacket thrown over one shoulder, and his fancy shoes hidden beneath layers of mud.

    Only to make the worst possible discovery. The tall lookout spot had some of the lowest levels of cosmic energy he had yet discovered. His clothes-ruining hike through the woods had been a waste of time. All the energy and drive that had motivated Hector¡¯s manic post-funeral actions drained from him. He released a weary sigh as he sat on a bench placed at the peak of the climb beneath the boughs of tall trees standing sentry.

    ¡°Whelp,¡± he said, ¡°I guess it¡¯s not as simple as I thought. Shit, I¡¯m tired.¡±

    Hector turned to lay on the bench for just a few minutes...

 Chapter 39

    Volithur sat across from the Sergeant in the otherwise empty dining hall. His lessons had not truly resumed. The Sergeant had set up the meeting to check on Volithur¡¯s progress.

    ¡°You estimate you are a third of the way towards level four already?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°You are making excellent time,¡± the Sergeant said. ¡°We had thought you entirely incompetent, but you have made up for a lack of talent through persistence.¡±

    Volithur didn¡¯t thank the Sergeant for the backhanded compliment. He would have if the words came from someone who lived in the palace. The fact of his subservience was a persistent ache to his ego, as annoying as the physical bruising that flared with pain when he moved wrong. He had also come to ignore those discomforts ¨C physical and otherwise ¨C as a matter of course. He could only take the circumstances of his life as he found them.

    ¡°The reason I wanted to meet with you is to discuss strengthening your constitution. You are at the point where you can begin to incorporate cosmic energy into your body. It is a little harder because you have been cut off from resources, but given your recent improvements in sparring, you could benefit from being a little more durable.¡±

    ¡°Uh, Sergeant, I don¡¯t want to waste any of my energy before getting to level four.¡±

    ¡°Waste? Ward Harridan, body reinforcement is never a waste of resources. Do you think the Lord General is immortal because he has a level ten soul? No. It¡¯s because he has transformed his physical body. Right now you have no advantage in combat over an unempowered human. Simply increasing your soul level confers no power to you, only the potential for power. You need to enhance your body, enhance your mind, grow your aura, and develop your domain. All of that requires you to spend energy. If you simply concentrate on growing your soul stronger, you will see no benefits.¡±

    ¡°I will begin receiving the tea powder elixir once I reach level four,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Yes, I understand that,¡± the Sergeant muttered. ¡°But you are half a year into your wardship. Because we don¡¯t have an accurate age assessment for you, your majority has been set for two years after your wardship began. You have only a year and a half remaining with us. At the end of that time, if you have not shown potential, we will have no choice but to eject you from the barracks.¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°Then do I get another job on the estate?¡±

    ¡°Not any job you would want,¡± the Sergeant answered.

    ¡°I am receiving an education, though.¡±

    ¡°Do you think the Castellan likes you enough to take you on as a scribe?¡±

    Volithur didn¡¯t answer that. No doubt the Castellan would rather assign Volithur to permanent septic duty. That fate just might be worse than a life of soldiering.

    ¡°What I am trying to explain to you, Ward Harridan, is that you have a sliver of potential. If you want to make something of yourself, you need to work hard at things other than simply raising your soul level.¡±

    ¡°What about the servants who power the cosmic chamber? That could be a good job.¡±

    The Sergeant¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°Do you have any idea what those poor souls do?¡±

    ¡°They cultivate all day.¡±

    ¡°No, Ward Harridan, they cycle their auras all day. Cultivation is the practice of self-improvement, which they cannot ever do because they donate all their energy to the family. If you become a cosmic chamber attendant, your path ends. You become like one of the Jinn machines, simply serving a particular function for the rest of your existence. Do not speak again about volunteering for such a duty. If the wrong person hears you express an ignorant preference, your request might be granted.¡±

    ¡°Sergeant, I would rather not be a soldier.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you intend to do once your two years are over, the barracks is the best place for you during your wardship. You report to the Marshal here. Any alternative would put you under the Castellan¡¯s command. And if you don¡¯t intend to remain with us once your wardship ends, then that is all the more reason to train body enhancement now. No one is going to mentor you once you leave.¡±

    Volithur sat still for as long as he could resist the pressure of the Sergeant¡¯s attention, then gave a curt nod of acceptance. That was all it took. The Sergeant began teaching a lesson that had not actually been requested.

    ¡°The body enhancement manual used by soldiers trained by the Shaocheth family is known as the ¡®cold forged method¡¯. It is a variation of the method used by most nobles, modified to use less resources. Technically, it can be done completely without elixirs, if you are determined enough.

    ¡°Before you can begin practicing the cold forged method, you need to understand the theory behind it. We talk about body enhancement as if we are infusing the tissues of our bodies with cosmic energy. This is part of it, of course. We do infuse energy into our bodies. But that is only to allow our soul to bind with our physical aspect. What we call the ¡®body aperture¡¯ of our soul extends into every bit of our corporeal form like a shadow. When we infuse cosmic energy with intention, it welds body and soul together.

    ¡°As you advance in your body enhancement, the binding becomes increasingly more powerful. Your willpower and self-conception shape your form. Your ability to channel cosmic energy for physical feats increases dramatically. At higher levels, you can stop and even reverse aging.

    ¡°The cold forged method begins by targeting the bones. Not only are they the scaffolding for our physical form, they also generate the blood. So we individually harden each bone in turn before moving on to the next type of tissue. You will want to be extremely thorough when you infuse energy. Any mistakes or oversights will be much harder to fix later.¡±

    The Sergeant smiled. ¡°But the first steps are simple enough. Just push cosmic energy into your bones. Do it one bone at a time so you can be thorough. The process takes about a year at your level to do right if you spend an hour on it each day. Most of us are limited by the amount of cosmic energy we have to work with.¡±

    Since the man seemed to be done, Volithur nodded in agreement. ¡°Thank you for this instruction, Sergeant.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The Sergeant scowled at him. ¡°I can already tell you¡¯re going to push for level four before you take my advice. The resources from the family aren¡¯t so generous to be worth the delay in your development. You were receiving a single tea powder elixir a month.¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think I am very talented at body enhancement, Sergeant. I think the elixir is probably necessary for me.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t force a fool to cultivate,¡± the Sergeant muttered.

    In the days that followed, Volithur put the lesson on body enhancement out of mind. Though he did seek out a manual in the library on mental enhancement. It provided two temporary boosting techniques, a strengthening technique, and a sensory training method.

    The first boosting technique increased mental focus through an infusion of cosmic energy into an existing mental pattern. Quite simply, you concentrated on something and then squeezed some energy into it. Volithur questioned whether the ¡®technique¡¯ was worthy of inclusion in a book when it seemed like something you could easily work out on your own. Volithur had no trouble picking it up.

    The second boosting technique quickened thought speed by bringing energy to the edge of the mind and letting it leech through the mental aperture passively. When done correctly, thoughts just seemed to move smoother, like the brain had been lubricated to remove any friction. This one, while less intuitive than the other, proved if anything simpler to gain proficiency in.

    The mental strengthening technique required emptying the mind through meditation and circulating cosmic energy. It would supposedly cause all sorts of permanent mental gains over time. Increased intelligence, resilience, endurance, and ¡®resistance to foreign influence¡¯. The book emphasized the dangers of Arahant mental manipulation, to which a Xian¡¯s only defense was having a strengthened mind. Volithur worked harder at learning this technique than he had at the previous two, but couldn¡¯t tell if it was at all effective.

    The sensory training method consisted of expanding tendrils of cosmic energy through the mind into the outer environment. Essentially, observe your environment with mental aspected cosmic energy. Those mental threads could be paired to any of the senses. The challenge was not extending the tendrils outward, which was simple enough, but interpreting the results. Volithur dutifully used the method, but it mostly just gave him headaches.

    There were strobing lights when he used his visual sense. Static and whistling with his auditory sense. Pressure and temperature swings with tactile sense. Volithur didn¡¯t dare try his other senses.

    He still spent most of his time outside official training in cultivation. The hour practicing mental enhancement didn¡¯t take too much away from his progress. Nor did the hour he spent training with Khana. Honing his mental voice took time and effort, but she assured him that he was doing well. The hard part was that he couldn¡¯t ¡®hear¡¯ his own voice, but had to rely upon Khana¡¯s feedback.

    This took the occasionally humorous form of Khana using her physical voice to emulate the noise he had made mentally. Over the course of weeks, he had progressed to the point that his sounds were roughly in the same realm as vocalizations. Very roughly, as Khana¡¯s mimicry made clear. Some of her imitations were amusing and got a laugh out of him. Others¡­ seemed intended to mock. Volithur did his best to ignore Khana¡¯s moments of pettiness, knowing from her continued needling that she still felt bothered that he would rise in status even as she fell. Khana¡¯s jealous cattiness was tempered by moments of grace, where she would offer subdued praise for his improvements and provide helpful advice.

    The most disheartening part of the quickly passing days was the fact that the new guys were rapidly improving at sparring. Volithur still beat them every round, but the effort required grew steadily. He could rapidly see a time approaching when their capabilities in weaponless combat eclipsed his own. Perhaps that was to be expected, given their size and strength advantages, but Volithur enjoyed no longer being the worst person in training and preferred to keep some of his fledgling pride intact.

    Throughout everything, Thassily grew ever more distant. If Volithur accepted his friend¡¯s daily stories as true, then Thassily had begun to smooch the brewer¡¯s daughter goodbye every time he visited. The budding romance drew a harsh contrast to Volithur¡¯s circumstances. He had taken to hiding before meals so that Ava the cook¡¯s assistant would not find him for a ¡®quick chat¡¯.

    She had found the little room he shared with Thassily before lunch one day and leaned across him as he lay in his hammock while talking with her face inches from his own. No doubt that had seemed flirtatious in her mind, but Volithur had only stared at the mess that was her teeth ¨C the ones that remained were yellowed and outlined in plaque. He didn¡¯t know how to disengage from the situation without being blunt, so instead Volithur avoided her whenever possible. He certainly made sure not to be in his hammock again during the times she brought food to the barracks.

    Between his avoidance of Ava, Thassily¡¯s preoccupations, and his awkwardness with the soldiers, Volithur found much of his socialization happening during the mutual lessons he had with Khana. They had little in common, but found a shared interest in gossip.

    Khana loved hearing the second-hand Adventures of Thassily. Her impression of his friend was of a dumb, heavyset brute. Which, to be fare, was consistent with his appearance. Thassily played at being simpleminded to lower the expectations placed on him, did indeed have a little extra weight on him, and had rugged features that made his ever-present bruises appear like the result of a fair fight rather than the look of being bullied. Contrary to Volithur¡¯s assumptions, she asserted her absolute confidence that not only were the two locking lips, but that they were in immanent danger of pregnancy.

    In return, Volithur received all the palace gossip he had ever wanted and more. The reason for the sudden departure of Master Aramar and Master Dorian was because Rolanda had rejected an offer of marriage from Master Dorian. Khana had talked with the girl afterwards and learned that Rolanda could not stand how cruel the boy and his father were. Khana simultaneously approved of Rolanda¡¯s moral stance and thought her an idiot for passing on a chance at a safe future.

    The beautiful Rolanda was a year Khana¡¯s junior, so she was not in immediate risk of disinheritance, but she lacked any talent at cultivation and her only chance of a good future was leveraging her appearance to migrate to Tian. Apparently Rolanda was not ignorant of her situation. Nor was she certain of her ability to seduce a partner of her choice. Rolanda didn¡¯t even have misguided romantic notions. She simply refused to entertain the idea of marrying someone of mean spirit, reasoning that even if they were kind to her, she would have to witness bullying of others. Learning that Rolanda was every bit as kind as she was beautiful stirred unrealistic fantasies within Volithur¡¯s heart that he was forced to mock into oblivion.

    A boy only twelve years old named Cedric had reached the fifth level recently and become the new pride of the fifth household. He had been granted a weekly session in the cosmic chamber ¨C a true privilege given his age. Khana herself had only been in the family¡¯s cosmic chamber six times in her entire life. She didn¡¯t much mind the slight as she self-admittedly did not have much talent for aural cultivation. Elixirs did much more for her.

    Then there was Ulysses. The boy had been on the verge of achieving level six ever since the Evergreen Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber. The family had recently procured a silver plasma elixir for him in the hope that they would be able to promote him to the first or second household on Tian. The third through sixth households existed for the dual purposes of training up common soldiers for the army and providing a last refuge to family members before disinheritance. When a household rehabilitated a family member, its reputation in the eyes of the family rose, which increased its ability to requisition resources from Tian.

    Ulysses had not yet taken the elixir because he wanted to first cultivate up to the absolute peak of level five and then use the elixir to break through. Apparently this was a common strategy for use of elixirs. While a silver plasma elixir was said to be on the same level as a blood boiling elixir, both considered to be mid tier, that was whispered to be a barefaced lie.

    Volithur got the sense that when Khana spoke of Ulysses, she did so as if to prove to herself that she wasn¡¯t avoiding the topic. The girl would wear a neutral expression and force the words out quickly before mentioning one of the other nobles that had formerly been her peers, whereupon she became her usual animated self.

    The routine of his life, while not what he would describe as enjoyable, had grown familiar and no longer bothered him after the departure of Masters Aramar and Dorian. He only wished he could break through to level four so that he could get his hands on elixirs once more.

 Chapter 40

    Hector woke to the noon sun in his face. He sat up on the park bench, working his mouth in an attempt to scare up some moisture. Sweat glistened over his skin, drawn forth by the heat of the day. His uncomfortable sleep had left him with a headache and he was without a doubt dehydrated by the hike and sleeping exposed to the elements.

    Knowing it would be a two hour hike back to his car, Hector swore at himself for being an idiot and began making his return trip. It took less than two hours since his path back took him downhill more often than not, but the constant steps down caused both knees to grow achy. Hector scowled at the reminder of his age. As much as he defied the aging process through his lifestyle, his joints were always ready to expose the lie he told himself. They worked perfectly well until he did slightly more than they could handle, then it felt like someone had embedded shards of glass under his kneecaps.

    The trip also exacerbated his thirst to insane levels. Hector found himself pondering the water of a nearby stream and it took a considerable act of will to resist the urge to sake his thirst. So his mood was at a low when he emerged into the parking lot to discover another car parked next to his own, a pale woman wearing black lipstick sitting in between the vehicles on a folding camp seat with an umbrella shading her from the sun.

    As he approached, the woman looked up from a book in her lap. ¡°It¡¯s about time, Hector. I¡¯ve been waiting over an hour for you.¡± She pulled her feet off of a cooler that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. ¡°Help yourself to a bottle of ice cold water.¡±

    Hector blinked at her. ¡°Do I know you?¡±

    ¡°I was at your father¡¯s funeral yesterday.¡±

    Hector considered that. ¡°And how is it you are waiting for me today?¡±

    The girl tapped her temple. ¡°It¡¯s an Arahant thing. I knew you would be thirsty when you came out of the woods.¡±

    Which did not answer his question. Hector decided to check the interior of the cooler before commenting on that fact. It was full of bottles of water submerged in ice. Hector seized one, twisted off the cap, and gulped down the entire contents without taking a breath. When he lowered it from his mouth, he saw the girl holding another out to him. ¡°One isn¡¯t enough if you don¡¯t want to go to the hospital for dehydration.¡±

    Hector took the offered bottle and repeated his chugging demonstration. ¡°How did you know I would need water?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an Arahant. My dream girl gave me a true insight into possibility and I built a realm based on that. The idea was to use glimpses of the future to win at gambling, but that hasn¡¯t worked out the way I expected. The way the ability works is I get brief flashes of experiences from potential future versions of myself. It takes a while to get myself in the right frame of mind for the technique and then I don¡¯t even know if the potential futures I see are actually going to happen or not.¡±

    Hector picked up another water and held it to the back of his neck to help cool down his body. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Evelyn. Not really my style,¡± she gestured to her goth attire, ¡°but it¡¯s a family name so can¡¯t change it without giving the middle finger to dear old grandma. My friends from school called me Elfie because I¡¯m skinny and tall and pale as fuck. In the all girl metal band I play with I go by the stage name Evie Tricks.¡±

    Hector stared at the girl in confusion as she rambled. ¡°You¡¯re in a metal band?¡±

    ¡°Founding member and lead guitar. We¡¯re terrible, but it¡¯s a lot of fun, so why not?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see how any of this relates to you being here.¡±

    Evelyn winked at him. ¡°No need to rush, big man. I¡¯m getting there. See, my Arahant power isn¡¯t very strong yet and it is useless for a lot of things. The further I look into the future, the less reliable things become generally. There are too many variables and things just randomly change from one glimpse to the next. Except for one thing.¡± Evelyn leaned forward. ¡°Monsters. There are going to be monster invasions happening on Earth, Hector.¡±

    Hector stared at the girl. ¡°Like in the dreams?¡±

    ¡°Exactly like what happened to the world of Aes that made the Orisha and Titans extinct.¡±

    He had wondered on occasion if armies of Xian would descend upon Earth, but Hector had never thought about the monsters. ¡°Like dragons?¡±

    ¡°Dragons are a different category of creature. Monsters are amorphous blobs of chaos that use resonance to take on the forms of different things from the real world. Usually animals. Think giant scorpions or snakes. They¡¯re bad news for humans anywhere. In my visions, Earth does not do a very good job defending itself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but how does any of this lead to you being here?¡±

    Evelyn sat up straighter. ¡°Because I¡¯ve been searching the future for signs of hope. I¡¯ve seen some people who are effective at fighting the monsters. There¡¯s the one I call Drone Lady. She drops bombs on monsters with machines. Then there¡¯s Boxing Idiot. He wrecks monsters with punches like something straight out of anime before he gets killed ¨C because you don¡¯t run up and punch spiders taller than you. A few others. But I only see flashes, so I have no idea how to find these people.

    ¡°Except you. I heard someone say ¡®Hector Thoreaux¡¯. At first I thought it was like ¡®Hector is thorough¡¯, but then I looked up the name Hector online. It¡¯s not that common, so the first page of results had Hector Thoreaux listed as the surviving son in an obituary. I was going to meet up with you at the funeral, but my future vision told me that would be a bad idea.

    ¡°Then I saw that you would be here. Except that when I tried to talk to you after you came out of the woods, you yelled at me for a while, then threw up and passed out. Paramedics had to come get your dehydrated ass. Cold water seems to have opened the door to an actual conversation.

    ¡°So my question for you, Hector Thoreaux, is why your name came up when I searched the future for ways to beat the monsters?¡±

    Hector opened the third bottle and took a sip. In spite of his determination to progress, he had no delusions of becoming a great warrior. The life of Volithur did not provide a blueprint to become one of the Xian elites and Hector himself wasn¡¯t young anymore. ¡°Are you sure you can trust your visions?¡±

    ¡°I trust that they are glimpses of possible futures.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°And what was the context that someone used my name?¡±

    Evelyn gave a lopsided smirk. ¡°Context isn¡¯t a strong point of future vision.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t imagine I would be an outstanding asset in the fight.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a Xian. I can feel the tingly cosmic energy in you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a level one Xian. That¡¯s basically an unempowered human.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­. Let me ask a different question. Why did you go hiking?¡±

    Hector glanced back towards the trail. ¡°I was looking for higher densities of cosmic energy.¡±

    Evelyn cocked an eyebrow. ¡°In there? With all the trees?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to get to a higher elevation.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all euphoric life energy in the forest.¡± Evelyn stood. ¡°Do you want me to help you find good spots for your realization process?¡±

    ¡°Realization process?¡±

    ¡°That would be cultivation, to use the Xian term. I can sniff out a good spot for you.¡±

    Hector unlocked his car and placed the three empty plastic bottles onto the passenger seat. ¡°Are you still expecting me to fight monsters?¡±

    ¡°If I do, that¡¯s my problem. You never promised me anything or tried to mislead me.¡± Evelyn nodded towards the road. ¡°Grab dinner and plan our search?¡±

    Hector considered the thin goth girl for a moment. He couldn¡¯t deny her presence had been as helpful as it had been unexpected. If she could help him find an ideal spot to cultivate, it could save him a lot of time. And, like she¡¯d said, he hadn¡¯t misrepresented himself in any way. The memory of Volithur¡¯s mind enhancement reading came to him. ¡°Are you doing any Arahant mental manipulation to persuade me right now?¡±

    ¡°No Arahant shenanigans. Just the normal hot girl manipulation thing.¡± Evelyn struck a pose with one hand on a cocked hip and batted her eyelashes. ¡°You are paying, right?¡±

    A snort of laughter burst free. ¡°I¡¯m twice your age.¡±

    Evelyn shrugged. ¡°Doesn¡¯t bother me. Just don¡¯t expect me to call you ¡®daddy¡¯. Oh, look! I made you blush!¡±

    Hector cleared his throat. ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°A taco truck is parked in the plaza down the street.¡±

    ¡°And here I was expecting you to insist on somewhere expensive,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°In full disclosure, it is a meatless food truck.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ what does a meatless taco have in it? Vegetables?¡±

    Evelyn¡¯s smile grew wider. ¡°Have you ever heard of beans? Tofu? Mushrooms? Curried cauliflower? Jackfruit?¡±

    Hector sighed. ¡°Well, I guess I like curry.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit! Follow my car.¡±

    After Evelyn put away the cooler, camp chair, and umbrella, she drove down the road for about two miles before pulling into a shopping plaza. Hector parked next to her and they walked over to stand in line together. The food truck was garishly painted with tacos in every hue imaginable, none of which approached the coloration of a real world food.

    ¡°This looks more popular than I was expecting a meatless taco place,¡± he commented.

    ¡°A meal that didn¡¯t require an animal to die? How shameful.¡±

    Hector gave Evelyn a skeptical look from the corner of his eye. ¡°You certainly don¡¯t hold back from giving your opinions.¡±

    ¡°Talking too much is just one of my many flaws,¡± Evelyn assured him. ¡°Once we save the world, I am going to have to insist my parents stop asking me to pay rent.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just looking for a good place to cultivate,¡± Hector reminded her.

    ¡°For starters. I¡¯m sure I will catch glimpses of your potential futures now that we¡¯re friends.¡±

    The line had advanced quickly and Evelyn placed a large order for what Hector assumed was two of everything, then gestured to him and announced he would be paying for it. Hector handed over his credit card while ignoring the presumptuous glances directed his way. They moved to the side to wait for their order to be completed. Sensing the general mood Evelyn spent the interlude playing with her hair and glancing up at him flirtatiously, much to the consternation of the other patrons.

    ¡°You like making things awkward, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely love it,¡± she answered. ¡°People go out of their way looking for reasons to be upset. Why not give them what they want? It doesn¡¯t hurt my feelings if some stiff doesn¡¯t like me.¡±

    Hector glanced at her. ¡°You would hate to have my dreams if you aren¡¯t a fan of decorum.¡±

    ¡°Decorum. That sounds dreadful. What, is your dream guy a snotty noble or something?¡±

    ¡°I wish. He¡¯s the mistreated servant of snotty nobles.¡±

    That seemed to give Evelyn pause. She dropped her flirty act to stare directly at him. ¡°Your dream guy is a servant?¡±

    ¡°Well, technically he is a ward. But it amounts to the same thing.¡±

    Their order was called, so Evelyn moved to collect their cardboard takeout box. They walked back to set out the food on the hood of her car while she thought.

    ¡°Some advice on what to try here? I don¡¯t really eat this type of food.¡±

    She eyed him. ¡°What do you normally eat? Are you a meat and potatoes guy?¡±

    ¡°Chicken and broccoli, actually.¡±

    Evelyn winced. ¡°Who hurt you, big man? I will heal your broken palate with all the flavors.¡±

    Before he could think of a response, she shoved the first of many tacos into his hands. He took a hesitant bite, chewed for a bit, and nodded. ¡°This is the curry cauliflower?¡±

    ¡°I bet all the curry gave it away.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± he admitted before taking a second bite. The taco was small, so it disappeared quickly, leaving him looking for more. Evelyn handed him a different kind of taco. Hector tried it out and was surprised to discover it tasted like smokey barbecue sauce. ¡°Jackfruit,¡± Evelyn announced when he shot a curious glance her way.

    The mushrooms were next, and they tasted surprisingly meaty. Then came a bean taco, which had more flavor than he would have expected. Next up was the tofu taco, which more closely approached the experience of a traditional taco than anything else he¡¯d had. Finally, Evelyn presented him with a dessert taco that held cinnamon apples with a dollop of some non-dairy cream on top.

    As Hector was busy looking for more tacos, Evelyn finished up her own dessert. ¡°You seem to have enjoyed meatless tacos.¡±

    ¡°They weren¡¯t big enough,¡± he complained.

    ¡°Not at five dollars each,¡± she agreed.

    Hector reached into his pocket and pulled out the credit card receipt he hadn¡¯t bothered to read. Sure enough, the bill came out to nearly seventy dollars. ¡°Well played, Evelyn. I thought we were eating on the cheap.¡±

    ¡°Your dream guy¡­ he¡¯s not someone important?¡±

 Chapter 41

    ¡°Volithur was abducted from an unempowered world after a Xian invasion and taken back to be a servant. They call him a ward, but so far as I can tell, that just means they have to keep him alive for a couple of years before throwing him to the wolves. He¡¯s not living on Tian and no one is providing him any resources to aid his cultivation efforts. If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, the kid has next to no talent.¡±

    Evelyn crumpled up all of their garbage. ¡°Why the hell did I hear your name?¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re not very good at seeing the future. Or maybe you just wanted tacos.¡±

    ¡°I did want tacos. But my dream girl is very good at predicting events. Good enough that other people brag online that their dream people once spoke with her.¡±

    Hector felt a small stab of jealousy. ¡°So your counterpart was famous?¡±

    ¡°Hector, the Sage Levinia Grant Chauvin was the seer of the most prominent nation on Maya. Somehow I won the lottery when it comes to getting a good dream life.¡±

    ¡°Maya?¡±

    ¡°The Arahant home world. My point is¡­ I can¡¯t be that bad at this. Even if I sucked big time, I am still being guided by the memories of the GOAT. What¡¯s coming is going to be a world ending event, so when I look for answers and hear your name, I expect that to mean something.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you,¡± Hector said.

    Evelyn pursed her lips. ¡°Are you any good at Xian cultivation? Be honest.¡±

    Hector drew himself up. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say, but¡­ I seem to have some talent for it.¡±

    ¡°And you are given the memories of a guy who had zero talent and had to work every step of the way.¡±

    ¡°Ironic, right?¡±

    Evelyn squinted at his face. ¡°Or maybe it is perfect. The best guitar teacher I ever had claimed to have no talent, only passion. He always said he struggled twice as hard as everyone else to learn something, but that made him a better teacher. Because he ran into every roadblock a guitar student could ever experience and overcame them, he was able to guide his own students better. Your Volithur might be like my guitar teacher. You could learn his lessons better than he did. And he wasn¡¯t living on Tian, so you are already being trained to cultivate in low energy environments.

    ¡°I think this is exactly what I was looking for, Hector. The Xian are the premier warriors among the human worlds, and I am led right to one with natural talent who is studying under exactly the right master.¡± Evelyn clapped her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s find you a good cultivation spot.¡±

    Soon after Hector sat at the rooftop bar once more, this time accompanied by Evelyn.

    ¡°This is the best you could find? The cosmic energy boost is barely noticeable.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about five percent better than street level,¡± Hector explained.

    The waitress arrived and Evelyn pointed at him. ¡°That hot stud is paying for my drinks. So get me two Negronis. What about you, sweetie?¡±

    ¡°A mojito.¡±

    The waitress cocked a brow. ¡°Just the one? This place gets busy.¡±

    ¡°Two mojitos for my sexy man,¡± Evelyn announced.

    The waitress disappeared before Hector could countermand the order. He fixed Evelyn with his most serious expression, hoping she would fear destroying their budding cooperation enough to reform her crass behavior. ¡°Could you give the inappropriate dating gag a rest?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Is that an honest question?¡±

    Evelyn sighed. ¡°Hector, you being uncomfortable violating arbitrary social expectations just makes you a valid target for my games. The waitress might raise an eyebrow, which is a welcome reaction, but you are cringing in your seat. Do you have a lady love or something?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I am married, I guess.¡±

    Evelyn sat forward. ¡°Oh, you have to clarify that beautifully messy statement. You are married, you guess. So many questions. Tell, Hector!¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we supposed to be brainstorming where to find better cultivating spots?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°I want the story you just alluded to. Come on, Hector, I¡¯m an open book. I¡¯ve already told you I live at home with my parents and that I am lead guitar in the worst metal band in town. No secret is too sensitive to share with my partner in the ¡®save the world¡¯ campaign.¡±

    Their drinks arrived and Evelyn scooted forward to sip a Negroni through a straw while holding eye contact with him. He had the distinct impression that she would not be diverted until she was satisfied. And, somehow, without ever making a conscious decision, he had come to the conclusion that he wanted to work with her.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not using Arahant mind tricks on me?¡±

    ¡°Only Jedi mind tricks,¡± Evelyn quipped.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious, Evelyn.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. You have to stop with the ¡®Evelyn¡¯ thing. Your options are Elfie, Evie, or E.¡±

    ¡°Are you getting in my head or not?¡±

    ¡°Of course I am. I mean, isn¡¯t that what communication is? We use words and gestures to put our ideas in another person¡¯s head.¡±

    ¡°Arahant mind powers, yes or no?¡±

    Evelyn took another big suck through the straw, emptying her first drink before Hector had taken his first sip. ¡°Nope. I can¡¯t use influence yet. I went all in on the realm thing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about realms.¡±

    ¡°Do Xian use the cube analogy for souls? Of course they do. It¡¯s the only thing that makes any sense. So it¡¯s like this. You have four wall apertures ¨C mind, body, aura, and domain. Mind and body are self-explanatory, aura is the point between your body and the external world, and domain is the volume of space outside of that.

    ¡°Then you have the floor, which floats on the primordial chaos. That is your externality aperture. Because the concept of space doesn¡¯t exist in chaos, your externality is an extension of yourself that isn¡¯t limited by distance. Sage Levinia had a summoned tiger, by the way. The ceiling of the soul is the realm aperture. It opens onto a region detached from external reality in every way. Most varieties of human don¡¯t make much use of their realm, but it is the key to power for an Arahant. Mine is bound to my insight into possibility to create a scrying realm. I look into it and experience things that could be in the future. I¡¯m not sure what Xian do with a realm.¡±

    Hector tapped the table. ¡°So a realm doesn¡¯t influence reality in any way.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, I did not say that. It¡¯s detached from reality.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°First tell me the wife story.¡± Evelyn leaned forward to begin draining her second drink.

    ¡°Things went bad in the marriage, we separated, she started seeing other people, then recently she moved back in. We¡¯re not together but we never technically divorced.¡± Hector fixed her with a hard gaze. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with realms, now?¡±

    Evelyn sat up to remove the straw from her mouth. Her pale cheeks had begun to redden under the influence of alcohol and she gesticulated wildly as she spoke. ¡°Resonance, my friend. At least that¡¯s how Arahants use them. My mirror uses resonance to reflect futures. Other Arahants use resonance to influence reality. Take Sword Sages as an example. There have been a lot of them throughout history because it is a very effective setup. You get an insight into something like cutting or piercing. Basically a physical action related to proper usage of a sword. Then you build a realm around that insight. Then you make your externality into a sword that you can summon at will. Then you summon your motherfucking sword, swing it like an absolute bad-ass, harness your realm, and cut a god damned mountain in half from twenty miles away.¡± Evelyn almost knocked over her drink as she swung her hand in a chopping motion.

    ¡°So if I¡¯m understanding you correctly, a realm doesn¡¯t let you push energy directly from your soul into reality, but it can influence reality through resonance.¡±

    Evelyn reached out to poke Hector in the nose. ¡°So this wife thing. You getting back together?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re actually single.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? I thought we were saving the world.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the ¡®save the world¡¯ campaign, Hector. You and me, we¡¯re saving it.¡± She took another big slurp to finish her second drink and then took one of the untouched mojitos in front of him. ¡°Oh, this tastes good. Minty!¡±

    ¡°Right. We¡¯re saving the world, so what does it matter if I¡¯m single or not?¡±

    ¡°Trying to figure out my options,¡± she slurred. ¡°I am super stressed out about this shit. I keep seeing the world end and the only lead I¡¯ve got on fixing things is some hot older dude who can¡¯t decide if he¡¯s single.¡±

    Hector took the drink from her hand and put it down with a few gulps, then pulled the other one to himself before she could take it. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, Evelyn. I don¡¯t know what was in those drinks you had, but you are very clearly inebriated. I¡¯m going to drive you to your home and we can talk business at a later date.¡±

    ¡°Dude, no, don¡¯t be lame like that. We¡¯re going to brainstorm and figure this out. I heard your name, Hector Thoreaux. Drone Lady never did more than kill a couple monsters one at a time. Boxing Idiot kills ten monsters like a boss and then dies. Everyone I ever saw was useless. But I never saw you fail. So maybe you don¡¯t. Maybe you¡¯re the key to everything.

    ¡°I am not the kind of person you give responsibility to, Hector. My day job makes barely enough for me to put gas in my car. The only thing my band is good for is hanging out with my girls. I just fuck up everything I do. Call it a bad attitude or whatever. I¡¯m not the girl for the job of saving the world. I had to inherit the memories of Sage Levinia Grant Chauvin. I just wanted to win big playing craps at the casino.¡±

    Hector pounded his second drink and motioned for the waitress. She actually came by quick. ¡°Ready for more already?¡±

    ¡°Could I get the bill?¡±

    Evelyn dramatically threw her hands in the air. ¡°Can¡¯t take me anywhere nice.¡±

    The waitress didn¡¯t take long after that. Hector got Evelyn onto the elevator down to ground level and into his car. At which point, she promptly passed out.

 Chapter 42

    Volithur¡¯s breath hissed as he took the strike to his gut. He had been hanging with Little Nero for most of the match, but taking a hit cost him his momentum and put him on pure defense, which he could not afford when facing this particular opponent. Little Nero had not gone easy on him since the day Volithur fought him under the influence of the blood boiling elixir.

    The two new guys had almost entirely closed the gap with him in combat capability, which meant that Volithur had not had a solid win the entire day. And now Little Nero was going to pick him apart and make him look like a fool.

    Something snapped in Volithur.

    As Little Nero¡¯s fist came in hot, Volithur hardened his aura and anchored it to his flesh in an instinctive action, pushing a stream of cosmic energy into it.

    The fist plinked when it struck home on his temple, a tinny sound like two pieces of metal colliding. Volithur saw the surprise on Little Nero¡¯s face, then drove his knee into the man¡¯s gut.

    Little Nero hunched over to soften the body blow. Volithur dropped his level and launched an uppercut that hit solid, sending Little Nero stumbling back to fall on his tailbone.

    ¡°Look at that,¡± Instructor Gordo crowed, ¡°Ward Harridan has some fight in him today.¡±

    Volithur found himself paired with Marius next, who was one of the more technically proficient people present in the beginner group. The man should have been moved up to intermediate years ago, but he lacked the cultivation level to handle it. In addition to his skill, Marius also had a brutally efficient style. He remained in control, but didn¡¯t exactly pull his punches.

    Since his aura was already erected and charged, Volithur held it steady as he faced off against his new opponent. Marius came in steady, threw a clean three-punch combo, and hastily retreated with bruised knuckles. Volithur pursued, throwing wild haymakers and ignoring the returned strikes since they only hurt his opponent. Finally, he landed a solid blow and Marius dropped like a rock.

    Instructor Gordo clapped him on the back. ¡°You¡¯ve been sandbagging, Ward Harridan. The Sergeant said you weren¡¯t interested in spending cosmic energy in training.¡±

    Volithur drew back in the energy he¡¯d invested into his aura. He estimated that he¡¯d recovered about eighty percent of what he pushed into it. At a rough guess, he¡¯d just lost about one day¡¯s worth of cultivation effort.

    It had been worth it. Volithur met the gazes of the soldiers in his group, saw them reassessing his worth. They knew he could take hits and unleash punishment now. Even if he wasn¡¯t willing to waste the energy to do it every sparring session, they would have to take into account that if they raised the heat too much he might decide to retaliate.

    In short, they had to respect him now.

    Instructor Gordo ended class and Volithur went to find a spot to cultivate where Ava wouldn¡¯t be able to find him. He sat behind the barracks and began to cycle his aura. The exercise, so routine by this point, took serious effort. His aura moved with a leaden lethargy, like an overworked muscle. Volithur noticed that not only was it moving slowly, but it seemed to be less efficient at collecting cosmic energy than usual.

    ¡°Well, shit,¡± he muttered. ¡°I guess I have to rest my aura today.¡±

    Volithur considered spending the day in mental cultivation, but ultimately didn¡¯t want to spend the rest of his morning using the inferior method. He huffed in annoyance. He¡¯d lost two days of cultivation progress due to his defensive use of aura. One day from the energy loss and another day because he was too sore to cultivate.

    He really would have to be judicious in his use of aura going forward. Or maybe he should seriously consider body enhancement. The investment in his body would yield permanent results. He would be stronger, more durable, and heal faster.

    It all came down to figuring out what he wanted more. Did he want his access to the elixirs restored? Or did he want the respect of the soldiers? Volithur clenched his fists in anger. He wanted both of those things and didn¡¯t feel like he should have to compromise.

    Whether or not he liked the need, he did in fact have to choose one or the other. As foolish as it might be to concentrate on becoming a stronger fighter when he wanted nothing to do with soldiering, Volithur couldn¡¯t stand being the worst one in every area of his life any longer. He wanted recognition for something.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing it,¡± he whispered. Then, without further introspection, Volithur began the effort of hardening his body. When he had been provided with elixir before, he had pushed cosmic energy into his skull. So it would make sense to resume that effort all these months later.

    Volithur squeezed energy through his body aperture and forced it into the hard contours of his skull. Then he drew the energy back, feeling that some had gone missing. He cycled energy back into his skull and withdrew it. Again, and again, and again. He fell into the rhythm of enhancement, this time depleting the reserves in his soul instead of building them.

    It felt somewhat uncomfortable to be reversing the normal order of things, but Volithur kept up his efforts. He was so tired of being weak and receiving disrespect. Feeling the momentary stirrings of pride had awoken an appetite for more in him.

    From that day onward, Volithur spent his morning between sparring and lunch doing body enhancement. He continued with aural cultivation between lunch and dinner, then after trading lessons with Khana he would perform his mental cultivation.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Sparring had become different for him overnight. His opponents hesitated enough when facing him that he could work his offense more. Knowing he could raise his aura if he truly needed to, Volithur moved with a confidence that allowed him to commit to attacks like he hadn¡¯t before. The end result: he won as often as he lost. Each opponent offered unique challenges, but none of them were able to dominate him any longer.

    Thassily made it a point to compare their respective transformations. He said that Volithur was becoming a vicious fighter while he was becoming a soft lover. The brewer¡¯s daughter stopped by to visit during dinner one day, and Volithur was startled to see the creature that had so captivated his friend. She was as tall as Thassily and curved over every contour. Her eyes held a dull warmth and she seemed to get bored following conversations.

    But when she looked at his friend¡­ Volithur began to suspect that at some point The Adventures of Thassily had switched from exaggeration to downplaying events.

    When he saw Khana at their lesson, he described the situation. ¡°And I think you were right about them needing to worry about pregnancy.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they shouldn¡¯t worry about it,¡± Khana said. ¡°He¡¯s a ward, so if she gets pregnant the household has the option of paying out the rest of his contract due to extenuating circumstances. He could marry and be done with the training if he doesn¡¯t want to do it.¡±

    ¡°Wait. That¡¯s an option?¡± Wheels began to spin in Volithur¡¯s head.

    ¡°Well, not for you. The household needs to keep you around until they are confident the Lord General won¡¯t send for you.¡±

    It looks like I might have screwed myself over with that lie, Volithur thought.

    ¡°So I can¡¯t just sleep myself out of this lifestyle,¡± he said.

    Khana shook her head. ¡°Of course not. I don¡¯t even see why you would want to. If the Lord General brings you into his retinue, your future will be secure.¡±

    ¡°His last footman died,¡± Volithur pointed out.

    ¡°Well, that happens in wars.¡±

    Volithur laughed. ¡°I see. So it would have been a tragedy if the guy didn¡¯t get access to resources, but dying is just bad luck.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Ward Harridan. I¡¯m not being cavalier about death. I¡¯m just saying that if the options are being a nobody or dying after many years as a somebody, then perhaps the better life may be the shorter one.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re back to ¡®Ward Harridan¡¯, are we?¡±

    Khana rolled her eyes. ¡°Fine, Harridan.¡± His grin faded. Khana noticed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Out with it. I¡¯m hardly in a position to judge whatever your issue is.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not my name.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s not your name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not Harridan. My name is Volithur.¡±

    Khana mouthed the name a few times. ¡°Volithur. Volithur. It sounds so exotic. Is it a common name on the world you are from?¡±

    ¡°Not hardly,¡± he laughed. ¡°It was the name of my great-grandfather. He was captain of an exploration ship. He discovered three islands no human had ever set foot on and established a trade route to a distant continent. He died fighting off a pirate attack. Whenever I would complain about other kids making fun of my old-time name, my dad would say my great-grandfather was a great man and I should be honored to carry his name.¡±

    Khana looked at him seriously. ¡°You might reach even greater heights than your namesake, Volithur.¡±

    ¡°Or I might die in war like my new namesake, Footman Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you rather have a good short life than a bad long life?¡±

    Volithur sat down on one of the desks in the classroom. ¡°Forget long or short for a minute. What makes you think I can have a good life at all?¡±

    Khana flinched back. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean that I will never be in control of my own fate. I live at the whim of my superiors.¡±

    ¡°Why would you obsess over something like that? You still have a path to status and security.¡±

    ¡°What good do those things do me when I¡¯m not free?¡±

    ¡°The higher your status, the more power you have. You¡¯ll never have complete freedom unless you become a lord, but your future can be so much better than your present, Volithur. You can receive bountiful resources, live on Tian itself, receive a pension if you reach old age, marry well¡­.¡±

    ¡°I can marry well? To a distiller¡¯s daughter? Or a cook¡¯s assistant?¡±

    ¡°Your status will be higher than mine in a few years, so ¨C¡± Khana ended the sentence so abruptly it was like she had cut it with a knife. ¡°Enough talk of marriage, Ward Harridan. I need to work on division some more.¡±

    Khana went back to addressing him by his false name after that, and she pointedly avoided eye contact for several days. For his part, Volithur did his best to ignore what she had almost said. The last thing he needed was to confuse his head with silly ideas.

    It was better if he focused on things that were under his control. One of which was his body enhancement. As the weeks passed, his skull rapidly grew stronger. Not just more durable, but fundamentally more substantial. To Volithur¡¯s senses, it seemed like the bone had become more real than it used to be.

    Indeed, if it had just gotten harder, then that would have been a problem for someone like him who sparred daily. He did not need his brain bouncing around inside a steel case. Fortunately, the enhancement to his skull behaved more subtly than that. It almost felt elastic where it contacted his gray matter, as if it had a slight amount of give. But he doubted his skull could be damaged with anything less than a properly wielded sledgehammer.

    A lot of the groundwork had been laid by the blood boiling elixir he had been gifted earlier, so his more recent efforts had been eased on their way. And he had been able to enhance his body for two hours a day, which was more than the one hour suggested by the Sergeant.

    Volithur found himself almost optimistic about his future. Maybe he might even marry well¡­.

 Interlude: Matthias

    Matthias cultivated as he waited. He¡¯d recently saturated his soul and was halfway towards bringing his body enhancement to the peak of eight. It was phenomenal progress for someone who had never set foot on Tian or even consumed a single resource. He followed the intelligent path; the one that everyone should take, in his opinion. Matthias minimized risk, accumulated wealth, and grew strong by steadfastly cultivating.

    His world was one of the first to be touched by the Dream Engine. That gave him a head start on the other dreamers of the greater multiverse. Though that advantage paled in comparison to the value of the insight he¡¯d inherited. Matthias intended to be the first Xian lord to ever arise from the ranks of the dreamers. It should be easy to achieve so long as he stayed ahead of the other heirs of Volithur.

    Esther tapped on the desk of his rented office cubicle to bring his attention back to the present.

    ¡°Are you ready for the walkthrough?¡±

    Matthias opened his eyes. ¡°You mean am I ready to part with a billion and a half credits?¡±

    ¡°And in return you will own a skyscraper in Promise City.¡± Esther gestured impatiently for him to leave the maze of beige cubicles. Matthias got to his feet with a sigh. He really did not like spending so many of his accumulated credits. If things went well, he¡¯d make a fortune charging rent to the Xian of Union Central, whether they be dreamers or rogues or even expatriates of Tian. Currently there was only a single housing unit in the city exclusive to Xian and that one was owned by the nation of Amarat ¨C obviously not a place that would accept applications from random tenants.

    Esther bounced on the soles of her feet, eager to move faster than Matthias set their pace. She was a solid business partner, always on top of details and ambitious to a fault. She also wasn¡¯t hard on the eyes, though her boxy frame and lean muscle weren''t something he preferred in a woman. For that matter of taste more than out of concern for their business relationship, Matthias maintained a strictly professional demeanor around her.

    They took a taxi to the address of his new building. It was a tower of steel, glass, and concrete, the same as any other in Promise City. Its doors unlocked at their approach and they stepped inside the small lobby area. Before them was a line of stainless steel doors leading to high speed elevators.

    A short Jinn man approached, hand extended eagerly. ¡°Why if it isn¡¯t Lord Matthias!¡±

    He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ¡°Does owning a single building on an unempowered world qualify me to be a lord now?¡±  Truthfully, he would not even own the building outright -- it would be entailed so that on his death ownership would revert to the corporation who built it.  That was on top of them being owed a cut of the rental profits in perpetuity.

    The man didn¡¯t bat an eye. ¡°You might as well be a lord on this world. Ninety-seven percent of buildings in Promise City are owned by corporations. The remaining three percent are largely held by families. Single owners are quite rare. As are level eight souls.¡±

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Matthias gestured to the lobby around them. ¡°Can we begin the tour?¡±

    ¡°Certainly! Do you prefer to work top down or bottom up?¡±

    Matthias grunted. ¡°We¡¯ll start at the penthouse suite.¡±

    In a city where about a third of the population lived in capsule hotels where their sleeping quarters were slightly larger than a coffin, having a multi-room suite on a top floor was the epitome of luxury. Being able to travel between worlds at will earned him a very comfortable living. Unfortunately, it also cut into the energy he had available for cultivation. For forty years now he¡¯d been climbing the metaphorical mountain of power.

    If his venture into real estate paid off, Matthias might be able to reduce his trips as a porter so that he could live large while rapidly ascending the rest of the way to level ten. Maybe in another fifty years he could call himself a lord for real. Though he still had no intention of going anywhere near Tian. Matthias could set himself up as someone of power on this world.

    All of that would be in the future, though. Level eight might be impressive to the locals of an unempowered world, but the presence of the Coalition Army on Union Central meant that he would never be comfortable throwing his weight around until he had lord strength. And he wouldn¡¯t advance to level ten until his body was at the peak of level nine. He would be no hollow spear.

    The elevators were indeed high speed. It took only a minute for them to reach the penthouse at the thirty-sixth floor. During that time, the representatives of the construction company kept up a steady stream of inane chatter. Matthias idly wondered if they were in such a rush to speak because their lifespans were so small. Though he was barely into his sixties, Matthias had lived most of his life with the knowledge that he would climb his way to immortality. Already his lifespan could be measured in centuries. Peak nine would stop his aging entirely and make him immune to disease.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    He felt so little rush to do anything. Life was honestly quite tame. Matthias never had to risk himself like a typical Xian to acquire resources or defend his honor. He performed closed door cultivation for the majority of his time. Just cultivating all day long, except for brief outings for a daily dinner and trips between worlds when he was in a working phase.

    All eight of the elevators opened onto a small hallway that had only a single door leading deeper into the penthouse. That door opened for Matthias and he stepped inside to admire the wide open space. This was true luxury within Promise City: empty space.

    Matthias strolled forward, admiring the view through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls facing outward. What he conceived of as his ¡®contemplation room¡¯ occupied a quarter of the top floor. He planned to place a couple of pieces of furniture in it for him to switch between while cultivating. A plush recliner along the inner wall, a divan next to the windows, a meditation pillow on the floor, and a kneeling chair on wheels. He¡¯d add a table and implements for brewing tea as well, though he hadn¡¯t decided where that fit yet.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I approve,¡± Matthias granted. He stepped right up to the windows and stared into the distance. ¡°Esther, did you know that the Lord General survived an antimatter bomb about twenty miles in that direction? It was before the city was here, of course. They built the dome of the dungeon over the crater. I guess it made sense to take advantage of the unintentional excavation.¡±

    Esther whistled. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize anyone could survive antimatter.¡±

    ¡°As I understand it, schism beams are the far deadlier Jinn weapon.¡±

    ¡°How does that compare to a cut from an Arahant Sword Sage?¡±

    Matthias shook his head. ¡°There can be no comparison. It would be simple for a Xian Lord to avoid a blade. Schism beams move at the speed of light.¡±

    ¡°I wish I had memories from Tian.¡± Esther wrinkled her nose.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve said. What did the Dream Engine give you again? An Alfar?¡±

    ¡°A Strigoi,¡± Esther corrected him. ¡°With a true insight into human anatomy. No thank you. Just¡­ no. I refused to harness life energy because I knew how risky it was with the shape of my particular insight.¡±

    Matthias nodded absently. He remembered hearing that Esther became a Xian because her world was under attack by monsters and she wanted to fight. That much had stuck with him. The bit about a true insight into human bodies as well. Esther was making a small fortune off of the Aes Reconquest. Not enough to buy a building, but certainly enough that she had a locked in a decade long lease for one of the smaller suites on the floor below his. It was quite impressive for a dreamer whose memories didn¡¯t teach her anything about cultivation. She had to cobble it together from what other dreamers shared with her.

    They checked out the bedroom, which had space for a massive bed. Then the bathroom already furnished with everything, including a jacuzzi tub. The kitchen was modest, but having one at all was a sign of affluence. Matthias doubted he would ever use the stovetop, but he did like to microwave leftovers when he didn¡¯t feel like waiting for a restaurant to deliver a fresh meal. The utility room and computer room were fairly standard, other than the fact that he would never need to share them.

    The walkthrough continued down through the other floors. Matthias dutifully took his time poking around. An inspection service had already validated every inch of the building matched the plans, but this was the last opportunity for Matthias to demand fixes. After he signed the electronic document, this building would be his and he would need to pay for any repairs or renovations.

    The suites, large rooms, small rooms, and cubby rooms were all as expected. The spaces that would some day host the library, shops, restaurant, and other amenities were all exactly right. In fact, there was only one thing he could object to.

    ¡°The stone used for the cosmic chamber is inert,¡± he said.

    The representative blanched. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°The stone isn¡¯t from Tian. It has no cosmic energy whatsoever.¡±

    The man cleared his throat. ¡°I have paperwork assuring its provenance.¡±

    ¡°And I can sense cosmic energy. This stone has none.¡± Matthias folded his arms. ¡°It must be replaced before I sign the agreement.¡±

    There was a tense minute. ¡°Is it possible the stone is just a little old?¡±

    ¡°The cosmic energy half-life of Tian granite is two hundred years. For this stone to be so depleted, it would need to have been removed from Tian over a thousand years ago. I refuse delivery of my building until this is handled.¡±

    The man deflated. ¡°We bought this from our most reliable source of Tian artifacts. If it¡¯s not acceptable, then we can¡¯t deliver the cosmic chamber you requested. Can we discount the price instead?¡±

    Esther turned away from the representatives to hide her smile. This was her gambit, after all. They¡¯d placed a request into the contract with the sales team that sounded simple to fulfill but would actually be all but impossible to achieve given the position of the Xian towards exports. Because the company attempted to pass off fakes, they were not only in breach of contract but also guilty of fraud.

    Given the extraordinary surveillance present on Union Central, there would be evidence of that fraud for the System Administrators to find. Given that Matthias and Esther formulated their plan off world, there would be no evidence that they engineered this situation. They would appear to be hapless victims to the authorities.

    ¡°Our contract specified a cosmic chamber for cultivation. I will hold you to that.¡±

    The representatives looked at each other. Finally, one of them spoke. ¡°We are authorized to make a significant concession in circumstances like this. If you sign now, we can offer a two percent reduction on the total purchase price. This is a significant savings for you.¡±

    Matthias managed to hold back his smile, but only barely. ¡°Send me the revised contract.¡±

 Chapter 43

    ¡°Who the hell is on our couch?¡±

    Hector sat up in bed to make eye contact with his angry wife, who glared at him from the door. ¡°That¡¯s Evelyn. She drank too much last night and couldn¡¯t tell me her address.¡±

    Jen folded her arms. ¡°She claims she is your ¡®side chick¡¯.¡±

    Hector sighed. ¡°Yeah. That sounds like Evelyn.¡±

    ¡°You know this Evelyn pretty good, do you?¡±

    ¡°One of her many flaws is that she talks too much,¡± Hector said.

    Evelyn¡¯s shout came from the other end of the house. ¡°I heard that!¡±

    ¡°She also eavesdrops too much!¡±

    Jen¡¯s face grew red. ¡°I¡¯m glad you think this is funny.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just a friend. And even if she wasn¡¯t, you¡¯d have no right to complain.¡± Hector hopped out of bed and squeezed past his wife, who remained frozen in place. He stopped by the couch. ¡°Want me to drop you off at your car now?¡±

    Evelyn jumped to her feet. ¡°I might as well go home. It doesn¡¯t look like that threesome with your old lady is going to happen.¡±

    Once they were in his car, she pulled out her phone. ¡°Hey, Danielle, I need you to back me up if the ¡®rents call around looking for me. I was at your place last night. Yeah. It was a Negroni incident. Just two this time, but they were large ones. I¡¯ll tell you about it later. Thanks a million, D.¡±

    ¡°Does this kind of thing happen to you very often?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t hold my liquor,¡± Evelyn admitted. ¡°When we have paying gigs, my girls police my drink choices like they¡¯re the alcohol gestapo. They won¡¯t even let me get an IPA. It¡¯s light lagers only.¡±

    ¡°Do ¡®Negroni incidents¡¯ usually end with you waking up strange places?¡±

    ¡°Whoa there, Hector Thoreaux, don¡¯t go getting preachy on me.¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a concern. We are working together, after all.¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah we are. The ¡®save the world¡¯ campaign.¡± Evelyn reclined the passenger seat and made herself comfortable. ¡°Negroni incidents are pretty rare. Usually I end up crashing at Danielle¡¯s or Megan¡¯s. Or Brittney drives me home. That¡¯s a disaster right there. Mom and Dad really enjoy when I come home wasted. They get a perfect excuse to criticize me.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re not an alcoholic?¡±

    Evelyn snorted. ¡°If I was, my tolerance would be a little better, now wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Then just a binge drinker.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll accept your label. You don¡¯t seem pissed that I stirred up your wife.¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s petty of me, but I think she deserves the opportunity to know what betrayal feels like.¡±

    ¡°Awesome. I accomplished my first good deed of the day already. Does that earn me enough Karma for a free breakfast? I know a place close to where my car is parked.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t normally eat breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Boo! Evie Tricks wants scrambled tofu and a fruit bowl.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you could buy that yourself.¡±

    Evelyn opened her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a freelance editor for bloggers, Hector. Even if I worked more than three hours a day, I¡¯d still have, like, barely any income. I¡¯m rich in life experience, not money.¡±

    ¡°You know, Evelyn, you are in many ways the exact opposite of me. I fired people with your work ethic regularly.¡±

    ¡°At your warehouse job?¡±

    Hector thought back over their conversations. ¡°Did I tell you about that?¡±

    ¡°I knew that from my cyberstalking ¨C I mean background check. Oh, I just realized something. I¡¯m your boss, now.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°You are not my boss.¡±

    ¡°I contracted you to save the world. It¡¯s like a gender swapped Charlie¡¯s Angels. I need to find a couple more dudes to set up my reverse harem situation.¡±

    Hector pulled into the parking lot. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Definitely no breakfast?¡±

    ¡°No breakfast,¡± Hector asserted.

    ¡°We never discussed cultivation spots.¡±

    ¡°Still no breakfast.¡±

    Evelyn brought her seat back to an upright position. ¡°Then I¡¯ll drop some wisdom on you right here. Stay away from areas with too many plants. The life energy will dilute cosmic energy. Don¡¯t do your realization process underground. Titans surround themselves with dense matter to collect substantial energy, so it wouldn¡¯t be great for you.¡±

    ¡°Should I look into hang gliding, then?¡±

    The girl looked up into the air through the windshield. ¡°I think there might be too much spatial energy if you are surrounded by that much open space. We could try it, though.¡±

    Hector laughed. ¡°Now you want me to pay for activities on top of meals?¡±

    ¡°You need someone to balance you out, Hector. We obviously have a Yin and Yang dynamic. I don¡¯t have enough focus, you don¡¯t have enough spontaneity. Together, good things will happen.¡±

    ¡°I need to hit the gym and spend some time cultivating. You tasked me with saving the world, remember? And Volithur started practicing body enhancement, so I have those experiences to draw on now.¡±

    Evelyn blinked. ¡°Right. You go cultivate. I will look into your future today and see if we find a good cultivation spot. Give me your phone.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°So I can put my number into it.¡±

    Hector pulled his phone out of his pocket. ¡°Just tell me your number.¡±

    Evelyn pouted her lips. ¡°You¡¯re going to put ¡®Evelyn¡¯ as my name.¡±

    ¡°We all have to make sacrifices for the ¡®save the world¡¯ campaign.¡±

    ¡°To think I am being called to fall on my sword so early in the fight.¡± Evelyn put the back of her hand to her forehead as if she was about to faint.

    ¡°Number?¡±

    She rattled off the requested information while continuing her swooning act. Hector placed a quick call to make sure she would have his number. As Evelyn entered his full name into the contact record, he held up his phone for her to see that he had entered ¡®Evie Tricks¡¯.

    ¡°You are an officer and a gentleman, Hector Thoreaux.¡± Evelyn briefly tapped on her phone, which caused his to buzz. He opened the new text message to see an eggplant emoji. When he looked up, Evelyn was grinning from ear to ear. ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch soon, monster killer.¡±

    Hector followed through on his plan for the day, driving to the gym to make up for the time he had taken off. The past few days had been far from optimal, so his lifts weren¡¯t great, but the important thing was that he had stimulated his muscles. As important as fitness had been to him over the years, it would likely be even more important in the near future.

    Apparently he believed in the mission Evelyn had set out for him. He somehow had to save the world or, more likely, die in the attempt. If indeed an invasion of monsters would soon arrive to destroy the world, then death wasn¡¯t optional, so he might as well go out fighting.

    When he arrived back home, Jen gave him the angry silent treatment, which didn¡¯t bother Hector. He grabbed a quick shower, change of clothes, and brought up Google Maps on his phone. He needed a place that had some elevation, was far from nature, and allowed loitering. After ten minutes of searching, he decided on a multi-level parking garage.

    Hector drove there, circled around the car ramp until he reached the open-to-air top level, and exited the vehicle to sit on the hood. As he began to pump his aura, he noticed that the cosmic energy density exceeded that of the rooftop bar by a slight bit. Call it an extra three percent, which meant this spot was roughly eight percent better than his house.

    Hours slowly passed until Hector¡¯s stomach demanded lunch. He walked to a nearby Vietnamese restaurant and ordered a bowl of Pho. Then it was back to the garage to cultivate some more. Between his choice of location, his natural talent advantage, and the efforts he made to maximize the expanded volume of his aura, Hector was more than a little pleased with his efficiency. That didn¡¯t at all make up for his absolute lack of resources, but it was certainly a start.

    More time passed. Hector grew hungry once more. He was considering whether he wanted to go home to eat or waste more money eating out when his phone rang. He picked up when he saw it was Evelyn. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°Casino.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me to go to the casino?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where a future version of you said the cosmic energy was the ¡®best in town¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I could eat dinner there while I check out the energy concentration.¡±

    ¡°Can I come with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not buying you dinner.¡±

    ¡°But maybe a couple of drinks?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not.¡±

    ¡°Easy there, big guy. I was just joking around. Let me know how the casino works out.¡±

    ¡°Will do, Evie.¡±

    ¡°Aw, Hector, you called me Evie. That warms the empty spot where my heart should be.¡±

    ¡°Goodbye, Evie.¡± He hung up before she could follow up with more of her weirdness. The drive to the casino took twenty minutes and he was ready to eat as he found a seat at a burger place in a corner of the chaotic space where the flashing lights, excited exclamations, and tense bodies were minimally noticeable. He placed his order and sat down to cultivate.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ best yet. About ten percent better than my house.¡± Hector settled in for a slow meal to justify taking up a seat for several more hours.

 Chapter 44

    Volithur accepted the shot to his ribs from Thassily to give back a chop to the side of the neck. The movement, as silly as it had first appeared to him, had been proven time and again to be effective at inducing an involuntary reaction. The nub of the wrist bone whipping into the neck muscles hurt like hell. As Thassily flinched back from the point of pain, Volithur stepped in on a stiff jab.

    His friend waved a hand in surrender and cradled his nose. ¡°Ouch.¡±

    Volithur backed off and stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for their match to resume. Causing minor injuries had become such a commonplace occurrence that he found it hard to feel bad for bloodying a nose. They all beat on each other every day, which made it a normal fact of life. You tried not to take things too far, of course, but no one got too out of sorts when they gave or received an injury that didn¡¯t require time off from training.

    Around them, spars began pausing as people turned to face one direction. Volithur joined them in looking into the air beyond the palace. A mirror-surfaced transit sphere hovered there for just a moment longer before shrinking away to nothing. Someone had just left the estate. And because of the strict no-fly rule, they knew it must be a close relation to the Lord General.

    Instructor Gordo called out for everyone to get back to business and sparring resumed. Volithur took it easy on his friend and barely made contact as they finished the round. After squaring off against a few more opponents, they called it quits for the day.

    Thassily smacked him on the shoulder as they returned to the barracks. ¡°You¡¯re getting really good at fighting, Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Or maybe you¡¯re just tired all the time from staying up so late.¡±

    Thassily pulled him off to the side. ¡°We¡¯re doing like you said.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to get Darla pregnant?¡± Volithur asked the question because he had not, as of yet, received any actual confirmation that his friend was sexually active. And Khana desperately had to know those kinds of details. Maybe he was curious as well.

    ¡°Her dad thinks I would be a good assistant distiller. I just have to invest my payout from the family into his business.¡± Thassily stared into the distance. ¡°Things might be looking up for me, Harridan. A good woman, a job that lets me sip rum every night, even kids. I really hope it happens fast. I¡¯m getting tired of the soldier stuff.¡±

    A sad smile stretched onto Volithur¡¯s face. He would miss his friend, but this was the best thing that could happen for Thassily. ¡°Won¡¯t you need to get a day job?¡±

    ¡°While Darla is out having a kid, they¡¯ll hire me to work in the tap room. That should be enough income for us to live on if we¡¯re frugal. Then when she can return to work, I¡¯ll find seasonal work on one of the vegetable farms like most of the laborers around here. It doesn¡¯t pay a lot, but they pretend not to notice if you take home a basket of produce each day. We won¡¯t get rich, but we won¡¯t go hungry, either.¡±

    Volithur punched his friend in the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯d better not forget about me when you¡¯re living the good life.¡±

    ¡°What? Who are you? Why am I talking to this strange man?¡±

    Volithur sighed and looked up at the ceiling. ¡°I was afraid my punch gave you brain damage.¡±

    As the two of them were laughing, the Barracks Clerk rushed past them yelling for everyone to assemble in the dining hall. Volithur and Thassily shared a concerned look. Quite often these sudden announcements were to disseminate bad news.

    The other soldiers seemed to share the same worries. Everyone milled about, muttering complaints under their breath. Having a bad attitude could be forgiven, but you always had to watch your words when you were upset with nobles.

    The Marshal arrived shortly after the Barracks Clerk had gathered everyone together. The man whistled for silence and got it. ¡°Everyone, the third daughter visited the estate last night and then departed this morning. She issued a series of decrees while here.¡±

    Volithur glanced about, trying to see by his fellow¡¯s reactions what this meant for them. Stony faces gave away nothing. The Marshal lifted a heavy bag, causing the sound of tinkling to fill the room. ¡°The one most relevant to us is as follows. ¡®The fifth household exists in part to raise up soldiers for the Lord General¡¯s army. All commoners in garrison will be provided with appropriate resources to meet these expectations.¡¯ Based on that decree, with the full cooperation of the palace staff, I have brought two months¡¯ worth of elixirs to distribute.¡±

    The reaction was swift and very, very loud. They roared and clapped and stomped their approval of the third daughter¡¯s decree. It took them a while to calm down enough to hear the Marshal¡¯s next words. ¡°The Barracks Clerk will be distributing your resources. Other than duty assignments, your schedule is cleared for the rest of the day. All of you will be cultivating.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    It took a quarter hour for Volithur to receive two vials of tea powder elixir. He disappeared into his room to down the first vial and began to circulate cosmic energy between his soul and body. His skull had saturated not long ago and he was now working on the long femur bones of his upper legs. Though he had been clearly instructed to focus on one bone at a time, Volithur had decided that he would do both femurs as a set.

    He worked right through lunch, as did Thassily, and probably most everyone else. Ava the cook¡¯s assistant stopped by his room. He ignored her for as long as he could, then told her he was cultivating with an elixir and needed quiet. She appeared hurt by the curt dismissal, but it got her to go away.

    Volithur eventually exhausted the usefulness of the tea powder elixir. As he took stock of the changes he had wrought, he was pleased to note that his femur bones were close to full saturation. They would reach that level for sure with the second elixir. Though he did not have time at the moment to finish another session.

    Post dinner stew, Volithur went to the library as usual.

    There he found a disheartened Khana collapsed into one of the seats, head down so that her hair cascaded around her face like a veil. Volithur approached slowly. ¡°Are you well, Khana?¡±

    ¡°Master Zara came here to set right all the changes Master Aramar implemented,¡± Khana said without moving. ¡°Elixirs flowed like they cost nothing. Family and commoners alike were showered with resources. Everyone¡­ except for me.¡±

    Volithur sighed and placed a hand on her back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Khana.¡±

    ¡°Ulysses broke through to level six. He and his parents left with Master Zara.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good for him.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Good for him. Good for you, too. I know you got your hands on resources.¡± There was no heat in her words, only heartbreak. In her current circumstances, a couple of vials wouldn¡¯t be near enough to change her fate. This wasn¡¯t about not having a chance to progress. It was being made to feel the outsider. In a way, this was crueler than anything the fifth household had ever done to him. No matter how distantly related members of the family were to one another, they still shared a common descent from the Lord General. And they had twisted the metaphorical knife in Khana every chance they got.

    Volithur reached into a pocket and pulled out his second vial and placed it into her hand.

    She split her veil of hair with fingers of her free hand and stared at the gift. ¡°Tea powder elixir? Harridan¡­ you can¡¯t give away your advantages like this.¡±

    He turned away before she could see the heat rising to his cheeks. ¡°Just drink it down already. I don¡¯t want you being moody during my lesson.¡±

    The sound of a cork being removed reached his ears. He heard her drink the liquid, then the plink of glass on wood. Volithur turned back around to find her eyes fixed on him. He cleared his throat. ¡°Can we start now?¡±

    ¡°I should cultivate since I just drank the elixir¡­.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Volithur backed away, heart beating, as if her steady gaze forced him back. ¡°Then tomorrow you can make it up to me by making my lesson twice as long. I have to go. Stuff to do at the barracks. Bye.¡±

    He sprinted back to the barracks and fled to his room, where Thassily sat in cultivation still. His friend opened one eye briefly upon his entrance. ¡°You¡¯re back quick today.¡±

    ¡°Right. Had to tell Khana I wouldn¡¯t be doing lessons today.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re going to take your second vial now?¡±

    Volithur winced. Stupid. I am so incredibly stupid. Why did I do that? ¡°Uh, yeah. I already took it, so now I can cultivate. Yep.¡±

    Thassily¡¯s eyes popped open. ¡°You¡¯re being weird, Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Too much cultivating can do that to a person. Make them weird. Right?¡±

    Thassily closed his eyes again. ¡°Never mind, I don¡¯t want to know what you¡¯re up to. Your schemes are going to get you in trouble some day. Instead of trying to trick your way into higher status, you should just knock up a hot babe like I did.¡±

    Volithur crushed the thought that popped into his head with self-criticisms. I needed that damn elixir. Why am I such a fool?

    Instead of letting himself dwell too much on the events of the past half hour, Volithur began to work his aura in the familiar rhythm of cultivation. He would just have to work harder to make up for the lost resource. Not lost. Discarded. It is a resource I threw away for no real purpose.

    ¡°Thassily?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, buddy?¡±

    ¡°Did you really know you loved Darla the first time you saw her?¡±

    ¡°I sure did. First my eyes figured it out, my nether regions gave a tingle of approval, then my heart started beating, I got all sweaty in my pits, and then my brain figured out I had to wife that girl up. Calling it instant would be an exaggeration. From start to finish at least two seconds passed. Maybe even three.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t very helpful,¡± Volithur muttered.

    ¡°Helpful? Oh, right, Ava came by earlier. She¡¯s a scrawny thing. Teeth are messed up. Bad skin. But¡­ if you like her, why not? Life isn¡¯t a movie, Harridan. We¡¯re not going to hook up with models. Well, you¡¯re not. I obviously have the superior skills with the ladies.¡±

 Chapter 45

    Hector woke slowly. He wanted to cringe at the new memories that had been uploaded into his brain. Surely he had never been as awkward as Volithur. The two weeks of overly formal interactions between Volithur and Khana almost proved more than he could bear.

    He wished he could talk some sense into his dream counterpart. Shake Volithur by the shoulders and give him the facts. First, Khana had obvious issues. That wasn¡¯t a reason to run in like a big damn hero, it was a red flag worth heeding. Second, feelings of infatuation were normal for a teenage kid and could go away as quickly as they came. Third¡­ the kid needed to get laid. Not with a noble, and not with the stalker cook¡¯s assistant either. Just some random hookup with a commoner girl to release some of the pent up angst.

    Of course, he couldn¡¯t have that conversation with Volithur. Fortunately, with the time dilation of the dreams, the awkward phase shouldn¡¯t last much longer. He would dream over a year of Volithur¡¯s life over the course of a single month. Khana should be gone soon, which would put an end to the teenage drama.

    Hector emerged from his room to find Jen waiting for him at the dining room table. Maybe I should have stayed asleep. Estranged wife drama has the potential to be even worse than teenage angst.

    ¡°Are you fucking her?¡±

    Hector did his best not to show any emotion. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Are you planning to?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Jen¡¯s voice went up an octave. ¡°Then what are you doing with her?¡±

    ¡°She has visions of the world ending and we¡¯re going to prevent that from happening.¡±

    ¡°Are you serious? No. I want to know what you¡¯re planning, Hector.¡±

    He folded his arms. ¡°We¡¯re not together, Jen.¡±

    ¡°Are you bringing some young girl around just to punish me?¡±

    ¡°Again, Jen, we¡¯re roommates. You don¡¯t have the right to get upset when I start hanging around with a woman.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a kid.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s at least twenty-one,¡± Hector corrected.

    ¡°Still looks like a damn kid. What adult puts on black lipstick?¡±

    ¡°Jen? Whether or not you live here, me and you are done.¡±

    Her nostrils flared. ¡°Should I file for divorce, then? Take half of your precious money? Is that what you want, Hector?¡±

    Hector ran some quick mental calculations. If he considered his retirement portfolio, his private investments, his home equity, and bank account, he could survive on half of everything if he downsized his lifestyle. Given that his future would involve mostly cultivation, with perhaps dying in an apocalyptic monster invasion, a small apartment didn¡¯t seem like a disaster. Because he had effectively retired, there wouldn¡¯t even be alimony payments.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine either way,¡± he answered. ¡°If you want a divorce, we can draw up papers today to get you half of everything.¡±

    Jen screamed and charged him with fists swinging. Hector caught her wrists to stop the attack, then had to twist his torso to avoid the kick aiming for his crotch. ¡°I¡¯ll become a dog kin if you divorce me, Hector!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s up to you, I guess.¡±

    She stared at him. ¡°I don¡¯t even know who you are anymore. All those years your work was everything to you. Then you quit your job, start hanging out with jail bait, and don¡¯t even care about your finances. I finally came to terms not being the most important thing in your life, but¡­ now all the things that ranked ahead of me don¡¯t matter at all. What does this girl have that I don¡¯t?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    He released her wrists. ¡°It¡¯s not the girl, Jen. The job and the money were only ever ways for me to track my progress in life. I¡¯ve got better metrics now, so the job and the money don¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°So all you care about is cultivating. Isn¡¯t that a grand life. You sit on your ass all day.¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°This is who I am, Jen. Who I¡¯ve always been. I obsess about optimization and self-improvement. I should have been born a Xian, because I¡¯m built to succeed as one.¡±

    She drew herself up. ¡°Well, you can¡¯t get very far as a Xian on this world. Enjoy failing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about achieving any specific goal, Jen. I just like to put in the work.¡± He turned to leave the room and paused. ¡°Though I¡¯m pretty sure the monster invasion is going to happen. Hopefully I can do something about that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances with the monsters, thanks.¡±

    After the confrontation, Hector threw on his running shoes and hit the road. He did his standard five mile loop, then ate, showered, and drove to the casino. He walked a circuit of the floor, slowly drawing in cosmic energy with his aura. Walking and cultivating proved perfectly doable, but Hector found his efficiency declined somewhat.

    So he identified a bar with a big screen television and settled in for an extended stay. He bought two mojitos over the course of two hours and managed to make some good progress towards filling up his soul. Then he moved to one of the restaurants off the main floor to eat. He spent an hour there, cultivating some more, before going to stand next to a game of craps. He pretended to watch while he focused on cultivating.

    As the afternoon brought a lull in the action, he found a seat off to one side and simply cultivated in silence without even pretending to be a patron. When the place began to get busy around dinner time, he left to return home. Hector ate a quick dinner and climbed on top of his roof. He ignored the voice in his head telling him that Jen had been right about him sitting on his butt the entire day. That wouldn¡¯t last forever, surely.

    Or would it? Did cultivating at the higher levels mean sitting still for years at a time? Hector felt a twinge of concern at the thought. As much as he enjoyed tangible results and the feeling of progress, he did not want his life to entirely revolve around a repetitive practice.

    That would have to be a problem for a later date. At the moment, he was busy striving to reach level two. If he did his math right, it would take someone like Volithur about a month to go from level one to level two without resources. Because of inherent talent and environmental optimization, Hector anticipated being able to achieve that in half the time.

    The days began to blur into one another. Soon, over a week had passed. Hector cultivated by day and dreamed of cultivating by night. His only reprieves from the dull repetition of aural cycling were Volithur¡¯s sparring sessions, Khana¡¯s lessons, and Hector¡¯s daily workout. Otherwise, it was a steady monotony of stockpiling cosmic energy to fuel advancement.

    Volithur spent about half of what he collected daily to further strengthen his femur bones, but that practice wasn¡¯t much different than drawing energy in. At least the awkwardness between Volithur and Khana faded into a background tension. It helped that Volithur had made serious strides in developing his mental voice. According to Khana, it actually sounded like a human voice now. A male voice, even. It didn¡¯t quite match his natural timbre yet, but that would come with time.

    The hour a day he spent on mental enhancement had begun to show results. Most surprisingly, the place those results were most obvious was in sparring. Volithur¡¯s thoughts moved fast enough and remained steady enough for him to out-think opponents more often than not. The sensory exercises had also begun to show their worth as he could now more accurately see cultivation levels. It was possible to detect how far along someone was in bodily cultivation by scanning them. People looked like inverse x-ray films, with their bones show up as blackened whenever they were sufficiently enhanced. Most of the soldiers in the first group had very little blackening of the bones, whereas those in the intermediate group tended to have blackened their entire skeletons. The advanced group had gone even further and tissues throughout their body were filled with a willful darkness.

    Hector felt an eagerness to embark on the next steps of his training regime. Once he reached a level three soul, he would begin enhancing his mind and body and training his aura. His efforts, combined with his location choices, helped him pack his soul at a rapid pace.

    Evelyn had given him several new places to try. The public swimming pool proved to be no better than the rooftop bar. A high school football stadium proved surprisingly potent. The busiest intersection downtown easily surpassed even the casino in energy concentration, though he could only sit at the bus stop bench for so long before a law enforcement officer would show up to hassle him for loitering. Evelyn called every day to check in on him, though the two of them didn¡¯t meet in person during that time.

    Her best advice, though, was not about a place but a time. She told him to cultivate outside during a thunderstorm, and it was his most productive session ever. It almost resulted in hypothermia, but he judged it worth the risk.

    Meanwhile, Jen had ignored him for several days, then pestered him constantly with moral arguments for another few days, before threatening to date other men. The latter two phases only served to make him miss the silence. The dogs didn¡¯t seem to mind the conflict so long as someone put food in their bowls and they were given attention.

    All in all, things were progressing in an acceptable fashion.

 Chapter 46

    Volithur drank down the elixir and began to push energy into his shin bones. So far, he had completed his skull, both femur bones, both humerus bones in his arms, and now was working on the tibia bones at the front of his shins. He had grown tired of getting shin splints when they were forced to do too many running or jumping exercises. Once those bones were saturated, he planned on moving to the fibula bones that were behind and to the outer edge of the tibia.

    The library had several books with drawings of anatomy. He had taken to studying the bones to better get an understanding of which ones were most critical to target. The book made distinctions that he hadn¡¯t. For example, he had treated the skull as a single, monolithic bone instead of several fused bones.

    His progress at body enhancement had largely come at the cost of exhausting the energy reserves in his soul. His progress towards level four had been zeroed out after he made a push to finish the humerus bones in his upper arms. He had regained some of those reserves since then, but he still spent half of what he drew in every day on his bones.

    He was sorely tempted to jump ahead to strengthening his muscles, but Volithur had learned enough about the process to know that was a bad idea. Enhanced muscles would tear tendons apart. If muscles and tendons were enhanced, then unenhanced bones were in danger of snapping from the tension. And, of course, the muscles were metabolically expensive. If you enhanced them before the circulatory system, they would drain oxygen and calories from the blood and starve the other tissue.

    The proper order of events was: bones, tendons, circulation, respiration, digestion, muscles, nerves, and flesh. The word flesh, while most obviously referring to skin, also included everything not part of the previous categories. Things like eyes fell into that bucket.

    Yet even without specifically enhancing more than a few bones so far, Volithur experienced quite a few benefits. His entire body could better use cosmic energy ¨C a side effect of the bone marrow having been converted already.

    The one disheartening thing he had learned about body enhancement was that even if he did everything perfectly, his body would only be up to the standard of his soul. In other words, his body could be enhanced to a degree that corresponded to level three and no more. When he increased his soul level in the future, he would have to revisit everything he had previously done to increase the potency of his body to meet its new potential.

    Cultivation never ended. Even the lords at level ten weren¡¯t done with their paths. There were a handful of people on Tian who had reached level eleven. The Lord General, Volithur learned, was not among them. He likely never would be, as he had turned to war instead of devoting himself to centuries of closed door cultivation.

    When Volithur used up the elixir, he switched to aural cultivation. Soon dinner time arrived, and after that, his lesson with Khana. Upon arriving at the library, he discovered that the girl did not wait alone. The Head Scribe sat at a desk in the classroom, tapping his finger impatiently.

    ¡°Ward Harridan,¡± the Head Scribe said by way of greeting.

    ¡°Master Scribe.¡±

    ¡°I would like you to return to class starting tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I was forbidden by Master Aramar, Master Scribe.¡± In truth, Volithur didn¡¯t see a point to the class. He had gotten enough from the lessons already and would rather spend those three hours a day in cultivation.

    ¡°Master Zara countermanded the commands of Master Aramar. You are permitted back in class, Ward Harridan.¡±

    Volithur considered the Head Scribe. Had he been required to attend class, the Marshal would have issued an order to that effect. Instead, he was being asked. Somehow, his presence had value to the Head Scribe. Perhaps enough to get him additional resources. ¡°I will be blunt with you, Master Scribe. I have seen great benefits spending the extra time in cultivation. I would need compensation in resources to make up for the loss of three hours.¡±

    The Head Scribe¡¯s mouth puckered in distaste. ¡°Do you not want to spend another session in the Evergreen Institute¡¯s cosmic chamber?¡±

    ¡°Could I not attend the competition without spending my time in class?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Ward Harridan. I would lose much face in front of the household if a member of my competition team didn¡¯t attend my classes. I cannot allow it.¡±

    Volithur shrugged. ¡°Master Scribe, the possibility of a session in a cosmic chamber isn¡¯t better than the certainty of cultivation. Over the course of a year, the lost hours would add up to over a thousand. I ask for resources not to be difficult, but because otherwise this is a loss for me.¡±

    The Head Scribe huffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you expect from me. I can¡¯t throw open the vault for the benefit of a commoner.¡±

    ¡°Then I must respectfully decline, Master Scribe.¡±

    ¡°Cosmic water. I can get you cosmic water.¡±

    ¡°A worthless elixir,¡± Volithur said. ¡°No thanks.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not tracked closely. I can give you a large vial daily.¡±

    Volithur paused. His rough estimation indicated that he would still be losing out on the deal, but not by a lot. Plus the elixir could be more efficiently used to enhance his body. The spot in his schedule between sparring and lunch, currently used for enhancement, could be changed to cultivation. Then he could enhance after class using the elixir. If he took into account the opportunity to enter the cosmic chamber once more, it was a good deal.

    ¡°Very well, Master Scribe. A large vial at the start of class and I will stay.¡±

    The Head Scribe sniffed. ¡°Fine. You can cultivate with it during class for all I care. Just keep your calculations skills sharp for the competition.¡±

    Khana, standing silently as if used to being ignored, clenched her jaw at the mention of the competition. Volithur cleared his throat. ¡°Will Khana be competing this year?¡±

    ¡°That seems unlikely given her circumstances. It would make more sense to give another student the opportunity. I will have to weigh my options.¡±

    Volithur bowed. ¡°My apologies, Master Scribe, but I have another condition.¡±

    The Head Scribe scowled. ¡°Now you want to dictate my team roster?¡±

    ¡°Only the one spot.¡±

    ¡°I will give you an option, Ward Harridan. I can provide you with a tea powder elixir prior to departure for the tournament, or I can make the politically impractical call to bring Khana for the recital event. Which will it be?¡± The Head Scribe spoke as if he had placed Volithur in checkmate. Judging by the serene gaze Khana fixed on him, she expected a different outcome.

    I am such an idiot. ¡°It would be a shame to forego that elixir. But I choose to have Khana at the competition, Master Scribe.¡±

    Volithur expected annoyance, or confusion, or surprise from the Head Scribe. Instead the man¡¯s expression held something totally unexpected: pity. The Head Scribe sighed. ¡°Very well, Ward Harridan. Khana will join us one final time.¡±

    After the Head Scribe departed, Khana remained where she stood, playing with her hair and holding back a smile with very little success. Volithur cleared his throat. ¡°I was pretty close to my natural voice yesterday.¡±

    ¡°What are we going to work on when you are done working on your voice?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can figure out something,¡± he said.

    ¡°I hope so. I¡­ really enjoy teaching you, Volithur.¡±

    The sound of his real name sent a chill racing down the trunk of his body. He rushed ahead with the conversation. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing a sensory training method from a manual. Maybe you could help with that.¡±

    ¡°You are getting training methods from books? That can¡¯t be very helpful. I can teach you the way my mother did.¡± Khana paused. ¡°She died in battle when I was eight. But before that, she used to train me.¡±

    Volithur swallowed. ¡°Is that why your uncle is your guardian?¡±

    ¡°My mother died, then they forced my father to leave since his only tie to the family was marriage. He wasn¡¯t a very attentive father anyway. Uncle Rowan treated me well. Until recently. He lost patience with my slow progress. He has younger children and would rather steer resources to them than a lost cause.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a lost cause.¡±

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t. It¡¯s nice having one person who believes in me.¡±

    The tension rose, and Volithur rushed to fill the silence. ¡°What is the training method you mentioned?¡±

    Khana smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a game called ¡®mimic monkey¡¯. One of us moves energy in a pattern and the other one has to copy it exactly. Then we trade roles. Both participants get a lot of practice interpreting their mental senses. Techniques are useful for some people, but my mother always thought more intuitive training had better long term outcomes.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good. Let¡¯s try it.¡±

 Chapter 47

    Hector handed off the bicycle to Evelyn, who stared at it as if she couldn¡¯t understand its function. ¡°Why did I agree to do this again?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea, Evie.¡±

    ¡°Like, I¡¯m not big on bodily coordination. Riding a bike requires balance, if I recall correctly from my younger years.¡±

    ¡°I believe we already established that you can¡¯t be considered old at twenty-four.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure my biological age is way older than my actual age. A health nut like you is probably younger on the inside than me.¡±

    Hector scratched his head in mock confusion. ¡°I thought I was destroying my body from all the meat I¡¯m eating.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you go expecting consistency from me again. I told you that is the most vile form of cheating.¡± Evelyn swung a leg over the bike Jen had only used a couple times and glanced over at him. ¡°Speaking of cheating, is your wife hoeing again?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care enough to ask,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°So, like, you¡¯re single. Right?¡±

    Hector eyed the girl. One could argue that they were on a date at the moment. Why he had asked if she wanted to join him, he did not entirely understand. There were all sorts of rationales for what he was doing. When he was willing to be honest with himself, he did want revenge on Jen. He wasn¡¯t proud of that fact, but it was true. She had hurt him and he wanted her to understand what that kind of betrayal felt like. But there was also the sense that the two of them had entered a sacred partnership. They were saving the world. Well, probably not. But they were at least making an attempt.

    Then there was the train wreck that his Volithur dreams had been lately. Hector had never had a high body count, but he had never lacked the courage to make a move when he found someone he liked. Maybe he had extended an invitation to Evie because he wanted to prove he wasn¡¯t a skittish romantic like his dream counterpart. He could make the move if he wanted to. He simply had not during his separation from Jen because¡­ well, because on some level he had enjoyed being the wronged party. He had remained true even while she repeatedly cheated. Was that more or less pathetic than Volithur being afraid to look a girl in the eye and tell her that he liked her?

    The dreams disturbed him in more ways than one. At times, he had trouble distinguishing the emotional weight of the dreams from his own opinions. As Volithur¡¯s obsession spiraled, Hector found himself thinking fondly of the animated expressions Khana would make as she spoke to him. He had enough perspective to realize that Khana was damaged goods and wouldn¡¯t make a good partner. Yet the butterflies stirred in his stomach when he thought of their hands brushing together. Well, Volithur¡¯s hand brushing hers.

    ¡°Earth to Hector. Are you single? For real single? Like, not going to freak out if¡­ stuff?¡±

    Hector nodded. ¡°I¡¯m single.¡±

    ¡°Then this is a date?¡±

    ¡°I guess it is. Good job at figuring out my dastardly plan.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to ride this bike.¡±

    Hector grunted. He had intended for the ride to be his workout for the day. He could always do something else for cardio, but it was an annoyance to not complete something he set out to do. ¡°Well, what would you rather do? Have me pay for another meal?¡±

    ¡°Come watch my band play tonight. Meet the girls.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I can do that.¡± Hector gestured to the bike. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to get a few miles in? You might like it.¡±

    Evelyn winced. ¡°The last time I rode a bike it had pink tassels coming out of the handlebars. Older guy helping me figure out how to ride¡­ the dad vibes would be too strong.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Hector said. ¡°I was hoping to get some cardio in. What do you think about running?¡±

    ¡°You want a cardio workout? Let¡¯s take these bikes back to your house.¡±

    The implications of her suggestion were not lost on Hector. He loaded the bikes back on the rack strapped to the back of his car and they drove away from the trail head parking lot. ¡°So I¡¯m going to meet the girls,¡± Hector said, to bring down the tension for a bit. ¡°Anything I should know about them?¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°How about: they are awesome.¡±

    ¡°You know, you never even told me the name of your band.¡±

    Evelyn laughed. ¡°Yeah, because the name is stupid. Goth Girl Metal Extravaganza.¡±

    They pulled up in front of his house and Hector placed the bicycles back in the garage before gesturing towards the door. ¡°Come in for a drink?¡±

    She hesitated. ¡°Your wife¡¯s not home?¡±

    ¡°At work.¡± Jen had been working more hours at the vet¡¯s office lately in anticipation of Maggie, her elderly miniature collie, needing medical services.

    Evelyn¡¯s reluctance faded and she preceded him into the house. ¡°I¡¯ll have two Negronis, mister bartender.¡±

    ¡°Your options are wine or beer.¡±

    She looked through the small collection of dust-covered wine bottles before deciding on a Riesling. ¡°You do not drink often enough, my man.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been drinking way too much lately as an excuse to sit in public for extended periods.¡±

    Evelyn took the glass she had been offered and sipped at it. ¡°Not bad.¡±

    Hector schooled his face to stillness when the sweetness hit his palate. Anymore, everything tasted too sweet to him. He had come to the same conclusion as his foreign-born employees had frequently shared with him: Americans put too much sugar in everything.

    He studied Evelyn for a few moments. ¡°It¡¯s fine if you¡¯re uncomfortable with this. We can grab lunch instead.¡±

    ¡°No, Hector Thoreaux, I¡¯m not backing out. I¡¯m just awkward as hell when I¡¯m not being outrageously inappropriate. One of my many flaws¡­.¡±

    Hector laughed. ¡°You think you¡¯re awkward? Oh, Evie, you have no idea what awkward is.¡± He began to expound upon the romantic travails of Volithur while they put back several glasses of wine each, eliciting comments from Evelyn such as ¡®that boy is never losing his v-card¡¯, ¡®is he afraid of lady parts?¡¯, and ¡®I blame this on medieval society¡¯s lack of quality porn¡¯.

    Then she shared some stories with him. Sage Levinia had been a player who used her ability to glimpse into the future to sleep with some of the most attractive and famous men of her world. Evelyn laughed as she told some of the anecdotes. Apparently, the attractiveness scale for Arahant could be quite arbitrary, given their ability to cast illusions. Very often, ¡®different¡¯ superseded ¡®classically good-looking¡¯ among their kind. And so you would up with people presenting unnatural skin coloration and unusual hair styles.

    ¡°This guy had a blue bee hive like Marge Simpson,¡± she finished. ¡°Big ole pot belly, Marge Simpson hair, and super girly eyelashes. On top of that, he was terrible in bed.¡±

    Hector split the last of the wine in the bottle between their two glasses. ¡°Let me ask you a question. Do you ever find yourself getting too emotionally invested in the people from your dreams?¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s a universal problem,¡± Evelyn said. ¡°I edit a blog that has contributing authors talking about their ¡®fantasy lovers¡¯. It¡¯s like a cross between a support group for disenchanted moms and steamy sex stories. We¡¯re all caught up in the stories we live out at night.¡±

    ¡°That makes me feel less like an idiot, at least.¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re in love with Volithur¡¯s Khana?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve never met her, I know she is a train wreck waiting to happen, but¡­.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad about it. I caught feelings for a guy I have nothing in common with.¡± The way she blushed and looked down into her wine glass made it clear who she was talking about.

    Hector touched her elbow. ¡°For all the jokes about the ¡®save the world¡¯ campaign¡­ this is the most meaningful thing I have ever been a part of. We don¡¯t have a plan, we¡¯re probably going to lose our lives, but we took on a mission that matters more than anything. We¡¯re in this together.¡±

    Evelyn put her glass down. ¡°I¡¯ve been dying to know one thing since we first met.¡±

    Hector tilted his head. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Do you have abs? Because it looks like you have abs.¡±

    ¡°I do have abs,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°Bust them out.¡±

    Laughing, Hector lifted his shirt. He did a bit of a stomach vacuum and flexed to make the musculature pop. Evelyn reached out to caress the contours, then pulled his shirt off entirely so she could run her hands over his chest, shoulders, biceps, obliques, and come back to his abs. ¡°Damn, Hector. You should stick with that exercising shit. I think it might be working for you.¡±

    He pulled her closer to him and seized her shirt. ¡°Do you mind if I throw your shirt on the ground? I think it would look great next to mine.¡±

    ¡°I never understood modern art, but you do you, big man.¡±

    Hector pulled the shirt up slowly, revealing pale flesh and the outline of ribs along her long, thin torso. He stopped removing the shirt when it was over her face, adjusting it to expose her lips, which he pressed his own to as he ran a hand down her ribs.

    Evelyn took her shirt off the rest of the way and pulled his face back to her own with both hands. As they stumbled towards the bedroom, they paused at frequent intervals to remove further items of clothing. They wore nothing by the time they hit the sheets.

 Chapter 48

    Volithur played the mimic monkey game constantly. Ever since Khana had shown it to him, he had been spying on the techniques used by others and trying to imitate what they did. His ability to discern details with his senses grew rapidly, vastly exceeding his ability to replicate energy movements.

    The Sergeant pumped the barest trickle into his body to boost his movements, a feat which reminded Volithur a little of what had happened to him when he took the blood boiling elixir. Instructor Gordo used a much more efficient aura defense technique than Volithur, where instead of hardening the entire surface, he only empowered small areas for a few seconds before withdrawing his investment. From what Volithur could see, Instructor Gordo lost very little of the energy outlay using his technique.

    The Head Scribe maintained a constant mental boost by using a steady circulation instead of an in-and-out cycle. Volithur had no idea how that one was achieved, but he knew it was possible due to his observations. Various nobles would push diluted energy out of their domain at the same time as they sucked purified cosmic energy in through their auras. That seemed like a trick Volithur should learn, but his best attempts failed utterly.

    Most curiously, he had seen the Sergeant¡¯s soul grow murky and foul when the man was supposedly observing a morning training session. The darkness faded over the next hour until there was barely a shadow left. The Sergeant appeared exhausted by the experience, but Volithur¡¯s growing senses could tell that the Sergeant¡¯s soul held noticeably more cosmic energy than before.

    The ability to spy on others and steal their techniques had opened up a whole new world to Volithur. He couldn¡¯t understand why this hadn¡¯t been taught him from the very beginning. Unless it was a secret technique of the nobles, in which case maybe he shouldn¡¯t let anyone know he had been taught it. When he expressed his concerns to Khana, she laughed at him and claimed it was just a children¡¯s game. He still resolved to keep quiet about what he was doing.

    The new hobby came at a good time, as Thassily had succeeded in his goal with Darla. The girl was pregnant and the Marshal had wasted no time ending Thassily¡¯s wardship. Thassily took the payout, married the girl, and became part owner of the distillery. He disappeared from Volithur¡¯s life with only a brief hug and an impossible promise to keep in touch.

    His time in class proved fruitful as the cosmic water helped with his body enhancement more than he expected. As useless as the substance was for increasing the power of the soul, the fact that the cosmic energy entered through the body made it a convenient aid to magnify his efforts at body enhancement.

    In short order, he completed work on his tibia and fibula bones. He moved on to the radius bones of his forearm. When those were saturated, he began work on the ulna bones. He planned to target the pelvis next, which would complete all of the large bones of his body. From there, it was all smaller bones. He thought maybe the ribs would be a good entry point, but strengthening the hands might be more practical since he sparred daily.

    For as fast as his body enhancement proceeded, it still bothered Volithur how little progress he made at rebuilding the energy reserves of his soul. He spent a little every day on body enhancement, some more on mental strengthening, and occasionally would use his aura as a barrier during sparring. All of that proved a serious impediment to advancement.

    Though¡­ the physical and mental changes were permanent improvements. The resources were flowing to him once more, so there was no pressing need for him to reach level four. He could gain a lot of tangible benefit from enhancement whereas advancing only gained him bragging rights. His status in the household was strictly capped by his origins, so there was no real reason to chase after the next soul level.

    He still wanted it, though. People were judged by their power and soul level provided the easiest metric to gauge that. The soldiers at the beginner level showed him a grudging respect as he could hold his own with any of their number now. True, he relied heavily on the enhancements to his mind and body, but that was a normal part of the equation in a world of cultivation. He couldn¡¯t help it if none of them were able to dedicate the same hours to self-improvement as him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Eventually the Marshal noticed his improvements and scheduled a meeting.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, I can¡¯t help but be impressed by your development,¡± the Marshal said.

    ¡°Thank you, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°You have made good use of your meager talents, and I believe that should be rewarded. Though I had to make a payout when Thassily left, that was done in the local coin. My resource budget was not impacted. Thus¡­ I have an extra tea powder elixir to distribute every month. I believe it would do the most good in your hands.¡±

    Volithur bowed deeply. ¡°Thank you, Master Marshal!¡±

    The man snorted. ¡°Do you know what ¡®tea powder elixir¡¯ is, Ward Harridan? It¡¯s the garbage that is left over after they process tea leaves on Tian. A combination of leaf fragments and dust. They used to throw it into refuse piles before realizing that off world Xian would pay good money for it. We buy the powder, mix it with infused water, and throw it in a vial as a reward. Not only is it garbage on Tian, it is relatively cheap for the family. Shaocheth never worries about transport fees. They only limit our access to the powder because they think making it too plentiful would limit its use as an incentive.¡±

    ¡°It is still a precious resource to me, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°That is the right attitude to have, Ward Harridan. Do you know what blood boiling elixir is? It is the same tea powder, but combined with citrus juice and botanical items from Tian. The ingredients are all plentiful and affordable on the home world. Again, the limitation on its availability is intentional. However, Master Zara saw fit to bring an entire crate of it for exclusive use by the soldiers. Its distribution is entirely within my purview.¡±

    The Marshal leaned forward. ¡°Do you want another vial of blood boiling elixir, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, Master Marshal!¡±

    ¡°Then you must prove yourself worthy of it. As your efforts enhancing yourself in body and mind proved yourself worthy of receiving the resources formerly dedicated to Thassily. I will give you three months to show me how deserving you are.¡± The Marshal paused dramatically. ¡°You are not the only person I am keeping an eye on. If your efforts prove insufficient, I can reward someone else. Understood?¡±

    The next day, the soldiers received their monthly resources. For Volithur, that was two elixirs. Eager to prove his worth, he drank both down at the same time and settled in to cultivate. He was able to use that burst of energy to finish saturating his forearms, then move onto his topmost ribs. Sparing no energetic expense, Volithur emptied out his soul entirely during the session.

    By the time the effect of the elixirs wore off, half of his ribs were transformed. It was great progress. It had also been costly. Not only had he spent two tea powder elixirs, he had also invested all of his energy reserves into the effort. Volithur hoped the investment would be impressive to the Marshal, because he wouldn¡¯t be able to build up enough cosmic energy to perform a similar feat in the next three months.

    He barely managed to build up enough cosmic energy with aural cultivation to take advantage of the cosmic water given to him before class that day. Then when he had his lesson with Khana later, he had to force himself to keep the good news about the elixirs to himself. Khana was sensitive enough about her situation that she would be saddened by news that his fortunes were rising. And, more concerning, he didn¡¯t trust himself to not pledge to share the extra elixirs with her. If he knew one thing for sure, it was that he was an absolute idiot when it came to certain people.

    So Volithur told no one his good news. He simply worked even harder than he had before. The days blurred by as he dedicated himself to the goal the Marshal had set before him. Volithur even went so far as to reduce the hours of sleep he got so that he could have extra time to cultivate.

    In sparring, he stopped using his aura barrier altogether. No one seemed to take advantage of the change or really even notice it, but Volithur began to accrue bruises at an accelerated rate as he had to rely on normal body mechanics to defend himself. He became a little more cautious, which took away some of his edge. It wasn¡¯t a huge detriment, but the decrease in combat effectiveness rankled. Volithur kept telling himself it was necessary to conserve energy for enhancement purposes.

 Chapter 49

    Hector¡¯s shoes stuck to the floor with each step. As he looked around the grungy dive bar at the slovenly appearance of the other patrons, he arrived at the inescapable conclusion that he was overdressed. Khaki pants and a polo shirt were not standard attire for Jimmy¡¯s Watering Hole.

    He received a couple of second glances and raised eyebrows, but no one commented on his choice of clothing. The empty spot on the floor with a ragtag collection of equipment and instruments wasn¡¯t occupied yet, so Volithur went to the bar to place a drink order. His forearms adhered immediately to the sticky surface, which once more had him questioning what he was doing.

    Was this a mid-life crisis? His dad died a little over a week ago, he quit his job, took on the dubious task of saving world, and just that morning hooked up with a woman who was literally half his age. The only red flag he hadn¡¯t raised yet was buying a flashy sports car.

    The bartender gave him an ominously quick list of drink options by way of greeting. ¡°Coors, Miller, or liquor?¡±

    One of the other patrons, already drunk by his appearance, chimed in before Hector could answer. ¡°Lick her? I haven¡¯t even met her yet!¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Ernie, or you¡¯ll get kicked out early tonight,¡± the bartender retorted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have Miller,¡± Hector said.

    The bartender returned moments later to plop down a plastic cup, sending a splash onto the bar top. ¡°That will be two fifty.¡±

    Hector handed over some cash and moved away from the bar. He considered the place once more and decided that he wouldn¡¯t trust anyone here with glass either. He found a seat close to the area where the instruments were set up and took a sip of the beer. It was slightly sour, so apparently their tap system didn¡¯t get cleaned often enough.

    Still, he was there for the night. He¡¯d promised Evelyn to watch their show and didn¡¯t want to go back on his word. Hector felt a sly smile steal onto his face as he recalled their time together. She had been correct when she told him there was another way to get a cardio workout. Their activities had exhausted him thoroughly enough that he had caught a quick nap after Evelyn left to get ready for her gig.

    A nap meant more Volithur drama, of course. Though the latest developments were positive. Hector felt like he had a certain depth of experience at enhancing bones. All vicarious, of course, but he suspected it would translate well. If it was like Evelyn hoped, Hector would learn Volithur¡¯s lessons better than the boy ever had.

    Would a body and mind enhanced to the heights of a level three soul be enough to make a difference in a fight with literal monsters? Even if you assumed he stockpiled enough energy to make liberal use of his aura as a barrier, he didn¡¯t see how he could do much good. Maybe he could survive a few fights. Maybe. But how would he turn the tides of a worldwide catastrophe?

    Any time he thought too deeply about their mission, he ran straight into the obvious problem. A couple of people couldn¡¯t resolve a world-ending threat. At least, not people born outside of a true world. Maybe if Lord Annihilator showed up he could throw a few chaos bolts to turn the tide of battle. But what good could Hector Thoreaux do?

    Evelyn had been led to him by her visions, so they both assumed Hector had something to offer. But there was an alternative to that theory. Evelyn could just be really bad at predicting the future. He could even see it playing out. She was stressed out about the end of the world and sought out a way to stop it. Only instead of finding a way to save the world, she instead discovered a way to ease her stress ¨C a guy she could have fun with until the end arrived.

    To put the negative thoughts out of his mind, Hector expanded his aura and drew it back in to absorb whatever ambient cosmic energy there was in this horrible¡­ no, amazingly wonderful environment. To his great shock, cosmic energy hung heavy in the air, thick and rich. Hector began to cultivate at a rapid pace, capturing as much of the energy as he could. He mentally apologized to the dive bar for ever thinking poorly of it.

    While he was in the midst of his self-improvement practice, arms circled his neck from behind. Black hair whipped into his face. ¡°Guess who?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, guess who, Hector baby!¡±

    ¡°Guess three, bitch!¡±

    Hector froze as he felt a lot of hands rubbing his head and shoulders. ¡°Hey, Evie. I take it these are your band mates?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s so smart, E!¡±

    ¡°Say our names, too, Hector baby!¡±

    ¡°Girls, you¡¯re not making a great first impression.¡±

    Hector stared at the four ladies, all clad in black, with varying amounts of skin displayed. Evelyn clapped one of them on the back. ¡°This is Brittney. She¡¯s the official mom of the group. Keyboard, lead vocals, drink Nazi, and has a real job.¡±

    He said the first thing that came to mind. ¡°Real job is good.¡±

    Brittney rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a hairdresser, not a doctor or something. I just look good in comparison to these idiots.¡±

    Evelyn reached over to pinch the cheek of another girl. ¡°My girl Megan. She bangs on the drums, bangs the guys, and is a little bit coked up at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Easy, E! Don¡¯t share my shit with everyone,¡± Megan complained. She smiled as she turned her attention back to him. ¡°Pleasure to meet you, Hector baby. You¡¯re as hot as I imagined you¡¯d be.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Evelyn smooched the cheek of the third girl. ¡°And Danielle, my lifelong bestie. The only bass guitarist alive without a functioning sense of rhythm. She would easily be the worst member of any other band, but I make her look good.¡±

    Danielle winked at him. ¡°Call me D, Hector.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet all of you.¡±

    ¡°I told her to find an older guy,¡± Megan announced. ¡°So you should thank me.¡±

    ¡°You told Evie to find an older guy?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve got more experience and more money.¡±

    Evelyn shook her head. ¡°I do not take dating advice from you, Megan.¡±

    Megan put a hand to her chest. ¡°I¡¯m wounded! Hector baby, you¡¯ll have to listen to my superb advice instead. Handicap stall of the ladies room. That¡¯s where you drag your lady between sets.¡±

    ¡°He has a nice bed at his house, so gross public bathroom sex is a hard pass,¡± Evelyn said.

    Danielle made an appreciative noise. ¡°Is it a hospital bed?¡±

    Megan elbowed Danielle. ¡°Yo, bitch, don¡¯t age shame. It¡¯s not weird until they take out their teeth.¡± The girls all laughed and began talking over each other, shouting jokes that became ever cruder as they all sought to be the most inappropriate.

    ¡°Oh my God, there are more of you,¡± he said to Evelyn during a break in the action.

    ¡°Whoa, H daddy is angling for a goth girl orgy,¡± Megan snickered.

    ¡°I assure you, I¡¯m happy with just Evie.¡±

    ¡°Aw, he¡¯s so loyal.¡± Megan patted his head like he was a dog.

    Brittney began to herd the rest girls of the girls over to the equipment. She turned back to Hector as sound checks began. ¡°Nice to meet you. Be good to Evie, she¡¯s not as unaffected as she pretends to be.¡±

    Within a few minutes, Brittney was shouting incomprehensible introductions into a microphone. The girls cheered for each other as the rest of the bar mostly ignored their existence. Then the real noise began as they started with their ¡®music¡¯.

    Hector watched the show unfold with a sense of ironic appreciation. He couldn¡¯t tell if their show was supposed to be some kind of intentionally awful performance art or if they just didn¡¯t care that they lacked even the slightest trace of skill. At some point, Megan abandoned her drums and stripped off several layers of clothes in a provocative display, only returning to her instrument when she was down to the essential last bits. The bar patrons liked that part and threw tips into an open instrument case to communicate their desire for more.

    While he enjoyed the sheer oddity of the experience, Hector split his attention so that he could dedicate most of his concentration to the act of cultivation. Despite the fact that he had been steadily drawing in cosmic energy prior to meeting the girls, the environment seemed just as ideal as the moment he arrived. He had truly struck a gold mine.

    After a few songs, Brittney pointed to Hector and announced that he was buying a round for the performers because he was their number one groupie. Hector complied without hesitation, high on the copious amounts of cosmic energy he had absorbed. It would probably not be possible to reach the next level that night, but he suspected that reaching the peak of his current level could happen.

    The ladies took the beers he brought them, Evelyn making a ¡®what are you doing after the show¡¯ joke. He won points with her band by responding ¡®you, if things go well¡¯. Then came another round of enthusiastic noise. Hector pretended to nod along to the inconsistent beat as he cycled energy into his soul.

    When their break between sets came, Brittney ordered him to grab them more beers. Evelyn attempted to request a shot of Rumple Minze from him, but Brittney shot that request down hard. They took their beers from him and Evelyn insisted he tell him their favorite Metallica song.

    ¡°Probably ¡®Unforgiven¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Wrong, pick again,¡± Danielle responded.

    Hector laughed. ¡°Uh, I guess ¡®Fade to Black¡¯ is pretty good.¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Megan said. ¡°The correct answer was ¡®Master of Puppets¡¯. Good luck next time.¡±

    Hector nodded, trying to avoid looking at anything inappropriate as Megan truly wore very little. Some of the other men had approached her throughout the night between songs, and she had whispered things in their ears that seemed to make them happy.

    ¡°She¡¯s a stripper,¡± Brittney said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You were wondering what Megan¡¯s deal was.¡±

    ¡°Was I that obvious?¡±

    Brittney shrugged. ¡°When my boyfriend came to his first show, he did exactly what you¡¯re doing and tried so hard to not look in Megan¡¯s direction without being obvious about it. I guess he thought he was respecting me by not looking or something? Anyway, all the losers who beg for her number are told to come watch her dance at the club. That seems to satisfy them.¡±

    Evelyn played with his hair. ¡°So be honest. Are we the worst band you ever heard?¡±

    Hector laughed. ¡°How are you ladies enjoying the beers?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a yes!¡±

    ¡°Dodged the question!¡±

    ¡°Too polite!¡±

    The girls joked with one another as they returned to the stage for the remainder of their show. Hector thought they might have played ¡®Master of Puppets¡¯ as part of their second set, but he could barely tell the difference between any of their songs to begin with. It was just loud, arrhythmic noise to him. With Megan occasionally strutting around the stage and pretending she was about to remove her bra before suddenly acting shy.

    When the music ended, cheers from the bar patrons erupted. Hector couldn¡¯t tell if they were showing their appreciation for the strip tease or celebrating the end of the horrible cacophony, but the girls acted as if they were being recognized for delivering a stellar musical performance.

    Hector stayed while they packed up their equipment, then at their request bought yet another round of beers as they decided to hang out until close. They didn¡¯t leave until the bar shut down at two in the morning. Evelyn asked Danielle to cover for her if her parents called around and then hopped in Hector¡¯s car.

    His ears still ringing, Hector spoke too loud as they returned to his house. ¡°Don¡¯t you think you should let your parents know what you are doing?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not, big man. Definitely. Not.¡±

    ¡°It was nice meeting ¡®the girls¡¯ tonight.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Love those girls. Really hope we can save them, Hector. Save everyone.¡±

    ¡°We will,¡± he assured her.

 Chapter 50

    Volithur took the two tea powder elixirs together once more. He had used the daily cosmic water elixirs to complete his ribs and was ready to move onto the next. The hand bones seemed too small to waste the potential of the elixirs on. It took some time to identify and target the next bone in sequence, and time lost while using an elixir was energy lost.

    Instead, he concentrated on the spinal vertebrate. Starting at the base of the skull, he began working his way down. He completed every one of the bones, then focused on the two scapula bones, or shoulder blades. When those were done, he had almost entirely exhausted the elixirs and simply drew the remainder of the cosmic energy into his soul.

    All that remained of his skeleton were the bones of the hands and feet. In another month, when the Marshal¡¯s deadline ended, he should already be working on the tendons. Volithur cringed at the thought of that. There were a lot of tendons and ligaments and spinal discs to be enhanced during that step. It would be tedious work that made what he did to his bones seem simple in comparison. He had already consulted books from the library and solicited advice from the Sergeant. Basically, it would be a tribulation that tested his attention to detail.

    It would only get worse from there, as the next step after tendons was circulation ¨C which included not just the heart, but the network of arteries and veins as well. The capillaries weren¡¯t included because they were considered part of the tissues they serviced for the purposes of body enhancement.

    Volithur glanced over at the man sitting on what he still thought of as Thassily¡¯s hammock. Jay had been recruited away from a petty noble family who couldn¡¯t afford to pay their servants. The man wasn¡¯t bad, for the most part. He was polite, didn¡¯t make much noise, and kept his space clean. But Volithur deeply resented him for taking Thassily¡¯s spot. He never acted on his irrational dislike, knowing it was foolish. He just silently despised the man.

    Once he had gotten all the benefit from the elixirs, Volithur stood and stretched for a few minutes before settling down to perform aural cultivation.

    Jay snorted.

    Volithur turned to look at his roommate. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean for that to be so loud.¡±

    ¡°Do you not like me being in my own room?¡±

    Jay eyed him. ¡°I just can¡¯t believe how single-minded you are. It¡¯s like you sacrificed every other aspect of your life so that you can focus on growing stronger.¡±

    ¡°What is it you do that is so enjoyable compared to my routine?¡±

    ¡°I relax, Ward Harridan. Sometimes doing nothing is the most enjoyable activity. But you wouldn¡¯t know anything about that.¡±

    Volithur considered his progress and the likely reward waiting at the end of the next month. ¡°If my greatest ambition was to drift through life, Jay, I would join you in doing nothing.¡±

    ¡°Ambition is the path of the nobles. All you and I can gain from hard work is being given more work. The true path of a commoner is to find a comfortable spot to avoid notice.¡±

    Annoyance flared in Volithur. He wanted to rage that he wasn¡¯t a commoner, that he came from outside the stupid caste system of the Xian. That wasn¡¯t the truth, though. He lived on a Xian world and none of his ancestors had carried the title of lord. By definition, he was a commoner here.

    He left the room and found another space to cultivate until dinner, then went to the library. Khana had been teaching him a new game lately, where one tendril cosmic energy was extended through the mind, another through the body, then both were manipulated in unison to probe the constitution for insights into biology.

    It wasn¡¯t the academic knowledge of books that the method provided. Nor even something that could be explained by a thorough knowledge of physics. It couldn¡¯t even be properly termed experiential learning. Because the truths illustrated by the ¡®twin touch game¡¯ were deeply antithetical to a rational worldview.

    Volithur, had he been forced to explain what he learned, could only describe it as reality not being real. As he ran a tendril of energy through his body aperture, the tendril of energy from his mind aperture sensed the induced perturbations. And what he viewed was not a maze of organs and tissues and cells, but insane, random fluctuations seething in defiance of an imposed order.

    Everywhere he ran the experiment, it proved to be the same. Palm of the hand. Kneecap. Thumbnail. Belly button. Nasal cavity. It was all chaos, strictly bound to specific forms and states.

    He found it deeply disturbing, like he had suffered a psychotic break or unknowingly consumed psychedelics. ¡°I don¡¯t think I care for this game, Khana.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a fun game,¡± she confirmed.

    ¡°Why are we doing it, exactly?¡±

    Khana hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, exactly. My mom said it was to prepare me to better understand things later, but it always scared me.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Are the things I sense actually real?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡±

    ¡°Which means that my body isn¡¯t real,¡± he said. ¡°Everything that makes up my form could just spontaneously explode at any moment. It wants to break free and I have no idea what is stopping it.¡±

    ¡°Resonance,¡± Khana said.

    ¡°Resonance again.¡± Volithur remembered the conversation he had had with Jemmi during the dance at the academic competition. ¡°So all the humans across all the worlds look the same and use similar languages because of resonance. And also our bodies don¡¯t spontaneously explode into chaos because of the same thing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really understand how it works. Only people with true insights can grasp even a tiny bit of the truth. Unless you believe the Yazata nonsense, there are no real answers to anything.¡±

    ¡°What Yazata nonsense?¡±

    ¡°The things the Yazata preach. I don¡¯t know what their religion was, but I can tell you that every time one of them appeared on Tian, they wouldn¡¯t last long. They¡¯re just lucky no Xian ever found out where their home world is.¡±

    Volithur shrugged and went back to studying the fight between chaos at the micro level and order at the macro level. The boiling violence of the chaos always somehow wound up canceling out itself. It was like watching waves crash against one another and cancel each other¡¯s momentum. Only it never managed to be so straightforward.

    Action, counter-action, reaction, and so on would mutually reinforce as often as hinder. Often a maniacal whirlpool would form and grow rapidly, threatening to tear apart reality itself, before it would trip over some other random event and disperse back into the sea of randomness. Again and again, without end, the sea would boil into a hideous frenzy and die back down just before unavoidable, world-ending catastrophe could take hold.

    The reality he knew seemed so fragile in the face of the infinite depths of chaos. Some mysterious phenomenon he could not sense in any way kept everything coherent. The longer he stared, the greater his terror grew. ¡°Is anything real?¡±

    Khana¡¯s hand squeezed his. ¡°I¡¯m real, Volithur.¡±

    As if he wasn¡¯t panicked enough already. Volithur forced a smile and yanked his hand back. ¡°How about we work on my mental voice for a little bit?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s almost a perfect copy of your physical voice already,¡± Khana complained.

    ¡°Is it that bad to want to train at something I¡¯m actually good at for once?¡±

    ¡°There is such a thing as too much false humility, you know.¡±

    ¡°False humility?¡± Volithur laughed. ¡°Khana, I am barely competent at cultivation. I put in three to four times as much time as other people in the barracks, and I see only twice as much result. Everything I do is the result of so much effort. I would kill to have some actual talent.¡±

    ¡°You do have talent.¡±

    ¡°At what?¡±

    ¡°I think they call it mental manipulations.¡±

    Volithur blinked. He¡¯d only ever heard the term ¡®mental manipulations¡¯ in relation to the Arahant messing with people¡¯s heads. ¡°What is that supposed to be?¡± He suspected Khana might have mixed up her terminology.

    ¡°It¡¯s the fine control of cosmic energy using the mind. It¡¯s not mental enhancement. It¡¯s manipulating tiny threads of energy and interpreting the feedback. You¡¯re a natural talent at it. That¡¯s why your mental voice improved so fast and why you¡¯re better than me at the ¡®mimic monkey¡¯ game. You are good at something.¡±

    Volithur pondered her revelation for a few seconds. ¡°Even if that¡¯s true¡­ what good is it? That sounds like the most useless talent I could have.¡±

    ¡°You could learn people¡¯s secret techniques just by watching them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah right. I¡¯ve been trying to figure out the Sergeant¡¯s ¡®secret technique¡¯ for months now and I still have no idea what he¡¯s doing.¡±

    Khana perked up at that comment. ¡°The Sergeant is a commoner. What secret technique could he possibly know?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. His soul grows murky for a while, then when it is clear again he has more energy than before. A lot more than he could get my cultivating or even taking any of the elixirs they give out around here.¡±

    The excitement on Khana¡¯s face faded. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s not a secret technique.¡±

    ¡°Then what is it?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s drawing cosmic energy from primordial chaos.¡±

    He jerked upright. ¡°Wait¡­ what?¡±

    Khana panicked for a moment. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it, Volithur!¡±

    ¡°We can get massive amounts of cosmic energy from chaos?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid and it shortens your life!¡± Khana smacked him upside the head for effect. ¡°If it was even remotely safe, don¡¯t you think I would have tried it already? You get strong at the cost of poisoning your soul. Over time it gets worse until your soul crumbles. You rapidly get weaker and then you die. If you¡¯re lucky, you might last all of five years before it catches up with you. Drinking chaos is what heroes do in stories before a dramatic self sacrifice. In real life it is just stupid.¡±

    Volithur rubbed the spot on his head that Khana had struck. ¡°Is the Sergeant going to die in the next few years, then?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how it works. It¡¯s stupid, and I forbid you from trying it.¡±

    ¡°You forbid me?¡±

    Khana raised her nose into the air. ¡°Most definitely.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think I have to listen to you?¡±

    For a time, it seemed like she wouldn¡¯t answer. Finally, she placed a tentative hand on his knee. ¡°Because you and I are¡­ friends. You need to take care of yourself for my sake.¡±

    Despite the lure of easy power dangled before him, Volithur sighed and swore a solemn promise not to take the easy path.

 Chapter 51

    ¡°I guess it¡¯s possible to power up using primordial chaos,¡± Hector said.

    Evelyn pulled the handle of the slot machine. ¡°That sounds promising.¡±

    ¡°Well, it seems like it poisons the soul.¡±

    ¡°Less promising.¡± She pulled the handle again.

    ¡°Yeah. I guess it¡¯s a maximum of five years until you drop dead.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s call that Plan B. No, Plan C. Plan B is going to be ¡®do Plan A harder¡¯. And the card is out of money. Can we be done with the casino now? This place sucks.¡±

    Hector was so close to reaching level two after cultivating in the dive bar the previous night. A few more hours at the casino would probably be enough. ¡°I suppose. Where to next?¡±

    ¡°Rooftop bar?¡±

    ¡°I really worry about your drinking, Evie.¡±

    ¡°Uh, the end is nigh. I think hitting the sauce might be a little justified, thank you very much.¡±

    After they had reached their destination and were seated, Hector began pulling in energy and squinted at Evelyn. ¡°What level are you at?¡±

    ¡°Get your jaw off the floor, my soul level is four.¡±

    ¡°Were you trying to rap just then?¡±

    Evelyn winked at him. ¡°Don¡¯t tell all my groupies I betrayed metal like that.¡±

    ¡°I know I¡¯m going to hate the answer to this question, but how long did you do the ¡®realization process¡¯ to reach level four?¡±

    She opened her mouth to answer, then blinked a couple of times before frowning. ¡°It¡¯s not an apples to apples comparison, Hector. The realization process is about defining an identity and inhabiting it. Illusory energy¡­ it¡¯s not actually an illusion, but it isn¡¯t exactly real, either. Arahants are different from the other varieties of human. We harness the force of existence. Not Star Wars ¡®force¡¯ stuff. More like¡­ the tendency of things to be things. Does that make sense? I don¡¯t think it fits into words the right way.

    ¡°It¡¯s about the world being perception. Our minds construct this elaborate story out of what our senses report. Then we believe the story. Then we tell other people the story and they believe it. At some point, reality itself gets convinced because all the people are telling the same story. You can make a lot of weird stuff happen when you get to that point. Consensus reality! That¡¯s the term.

    ¡°Except it¡¯s not just a metaphor for common experiences for Arahants. Get enough of my kind together thinking the same thing and all of a sudden that¡¯s how things are. If we clap hard enough, Tinkerbell won¡¯t die. It¡¯s almost a power of belief kind of thing.¡±

    Hector rested his head in his hands. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you just have to believe you are powerful and it happens?¡±

    ¡°I wish it was that simple. I have to carve myself a place in the narrative of an entire world and permanently limit my future options. If you¡¯re sloppy about it, you hit a roadblock in the realization process ¨C you can¡¯t advance because there¡¯s no narrative space to grow into. And if your world lacks the vibrancy to support your chosen path, then you get stuck, possibly forever. Then there¡¯s the whole thing about illusory energy. We don¡¯t actively suck it in like a Xian, but that doesn¡¯t make it instant. It takes time for an Arahant to grow into the potential of their role.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can advance much more on Earth. At least not with how things are right now. If everyone starts embracing the new possibilities, there might be a lot of room for me to grow in ten years. If Earth is still here in ten years.¡±

    The waitress arrived and Hector preempted any problems by placing an order for two beers. Evelyn made a pouting face which he ignored. ¡°How good is a level four Arahant in a fight?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°Worse than a level one Xian.¡± Confidence imbued Evelyn¡¯s voice as she answered. ¡°On Maya, it was generally accepted as true that an Arahant warrior below level six had no business traveling to other worlds. At the highest levels, an Arahant can warp reality like a god. But until they reach a critical mass, all they do is make illusions and mess with people¡¯s minds.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t think we should recruit Arahant into the campaign?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have ten years for them to realize.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea how long we do have?¡±

    ¡°Like I said last time you asked, it doesn¡¯t work like that. Monsters could rip a hole in the sky tomorrow or in six months. It¡¯s sooner than years, but I can¡¯t say by how much.¡±

    Hector grunted. ¡°Well, what about Jinn? Their technology powers could be useful.¡±

    ¡°Technology powers?¡± Evelyn scoffed at him. ¡°Who is your dream guy that you don¡¯t know anything about how the greater universe works?¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to rehash Volithur¡¯s shortcomings. ¡°I read they use legal energy.¡±

    ¡°The Arahants consider the Jinn to be their mirror image,¡± Evelyn said. ¡°We each directly manipulate reality, but do so in very different ways. The Jinn manipulate probability. That¡¯s the basis of everything they do. They put their finger on the scale of reality to get outcomes they prefer. It¡¯s not as flexible as what an Arahant can do, nor as direct as what a Xian can do. They use technology because it fits well with their way of doing things.¡±

    ¡°Then the question I have,¡± Hector said, ¡°is can we use Jinn technology to fight the monsters?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think the government is already enhancing the armed forces with Jinn tech?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Hector muttered. He turned his concentration back to packing cosmic energy into his already filled soul. He had been on the verge of advancing all day. The anticipation had worn thin after many hours of ¡®almost there¡¯ passed.

    ¡°I wish we had a more concrete plan than me getting stronger as fast as I can.¡±

    Evelyn slouched back in her seat. ¡°I look into the future every day. Eventually, I have to see something useful.¡±

    The option of trying to channel primordial chaos increasingly seemed like it would be necessary. Hector tried to weigh the situation rationally. Die in about six months from horrible monster attacks? Or die in about five years when his soul crumbled? He did not want to die at all, but that might not be an option.

    At least if he powered up he would be going out on his own terms. Like his father had.

    Before his mood could sour, Hector felt the cosmic energy in his soul grow taut and knew he was right at the threshold. ¡°Hold onto that thought, I¡¯m about to advance,¡± he told Evelyn.

    She almost fell in her haste to lean across the table. ¡°I want to watch.¡±

    Hector pumped his aura hard and forced in a sliver of cosmic energy. The familiar soul-quake temporarily disrupted his consciousness and Hector came back to himself feeling weak and empty. ¡°See anything interesting?¡±

    ¡°The walls of your soul grew denser,¡± she said. ¡°Otherwise, I didn¡¯t see anything.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Hector said, ¡°I¡¯ve had all the cultivating I can handle for the moment.¡±

    Evelyn stared at the drink she had barely touched. ¡°How long do you think it will take you to reach level three?¡±

    ¡°Best case, I get there in about six weeks. Then I can start enhancing my body. It¡¯s hard to say how my speed will compare to Volithur¡¯s, but I can¡¯t imagine that process being done before the six month deadline.¡±

    ¡°I never said we had six months. It could start in five minutes.¡±

    ¡°Evie, we have to assume there is time to prepare, because otherwise there are no meaningful actions we can take. Unless you want to risk talking to someone in authority?¡±

    ¡°They either don¡¯t take me seriously or they lock me up as a ¡®strategic asset¡¯. It won¡¯t help things either way.¡± Evelyn glanced out at the city skyline through the large windows. ¡°Maybe Volithur can help you out.¡±

    ¡°The main character from my dreams?¡±

    ¡°Go home and sleep as much as you can. Get to the end of the dream to see if he knows anything that might be useful.¡±

    Hector nodded. He was tired from the late night, so he could do with a little more sleep. Whether Volithur could provide him worthwhile skills or knowledge was debatable. The boy was engaged in actions that could only be considered long term investments. Things Hector wouldn¡¯t have time to properly implement.

    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± he said.

    ¡°I need to catch up on my work,¡± Evelyn muttered. ¡°Just in case I need to pay my bills before the world ends.¡±

 Chapter 52

    ¡°Sergeant, could I ask you a question about cultivation?¡±

    The Sergeant glanced at Volithur and gave a curt nod. ¡°I think you have earned the right to impose on my time. Your improvements have not gone unnoticed, Ward Harridan.¡±

    When they were in the Sergeant¡¯s office, Volithur clasped his hands together respectfully. ¡°I have been doing a lot of sensory training.¡±

    The Sergeant interrupted immediately. ¡°Ward Harridan, I can offer you no useful advice on the topic of mental enhancement. That is not a topic I have much experience with.¡±

    ¡°I understand, Sergeant. My intention was not to ask about mental enhancement. I only mentioned my sensory training to explain how I came to know certain things.¡±

    ¡°I am busy, Ward Harridan. Ask your question directly without the fluff.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sergeant. I have seen you drawing on primordial chaos.¡±

    The Sergeant¡¯s harried expression faded. ¡°Well. You must have some talent if you are able to spy such details in public.¡± He sighed. ¡°This is not the path for you, Ward Harridan.¡±

    Volithur pressed ahead with the all-important question. ¡°Are you going to die of soul poisoning?¡±

    The Sergeant drummed his fingers on his desk. ¡°The Marshal would be quite disappointed with both of us if you did something foolish, Ward Harridan. I hesitate to tell you too much.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound like you think you will die soon, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°Do you know anything on the topic of realms, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Not really, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°A soul has six surfaces, each with an aperture leading to an aspect of your existence. The first wall is the mind, the second the body, the third the aura, and the fourth the domain. The floor rests upon primordial chaos, through which cosmic energy can be directed to form an externality ¨C an item or technique that is bound to you but isn¡¯t required to be in physical proximity to you. The ceiling opens up into a pseudo-space that Xian can only use for a few purposes.

    ¡°The most common purpose is as an overflow container that increases your soul¡¯s cosmic energy capacity. It requires no technique or great effort to make use of a realm like this. If you do nothing, then eventually it will form of its own accord whenever you are strong enough. I have gone in a very different direction, forming what is known as a filter realm.

    ¡°My filter realm exists for the sole purpose of separating the cosmic energy from chaos. I bring in small amounts of primordial chaos through my externality aperture and then cycle it through my filter realm. With each round, the energy in my soul becomes purified. This has allowed me to increase my power quite a bit more than anyone expected of me.

    ¡°However, it is not without its drawbacks. Chaos is a soul poison. My filter realm reduces the damage my soul takes, but it cannot eliminate it. A soul collapse may be in my future. It is not a definite outcome, but there may come a point many years in the future where my risky choices catch up to me. Another problem is that filter realms are limited in their usage. Just like a water filter, it will eventually become clogged and unable to fulfill its purpose.

    ¡°You cannot swap out a filter realm for a new one, so once the clog becomes complete you have to stop drawing on chaos. You will never catch a noble taking such risk for so little reward. This is a foolish gambit for commoners desperate to get ahead. If you decide to follow in my footsteps, Ward Harridan, you should at least wait until you are certain there are no better options for you.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s thoughts raced. There was a shortcut to power available to him. It came with problems, certainly, but so did everything else in his life. He had promised Khana not to go down this path, but¡­ he needed cosmic energy. If he could figure out how to make a filter realm, so many opportunities would open up for him.

    The Sergeant wrapped a cable of cosmic energy around Volithur¡¯s neck and dragged him forward until he slammed into the desk between them. ¡°You are thinking stupid thoughts, Ward Harridan. When I was a child, my father caught me smoking his pipe. In place of a normal punishment, he decided to give me a powerful negative association. He made me smoke until I threw up. The rest of the day, my head felt like it was ready to explode. I have never touched tobacco in all the years since then.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°So here is what we will do. You will extend a tiny, tiny, tiny bit of cosmic energy into your externality aperture, hold it there for a second, and then slowly pull it back in. Do you understand those instructions, Ward Harridan? Particularly the repeated emphasis on ¡®tiny¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°Then take a sip of chaos.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I make a filter realm first?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not strong enough to build a realm yet. A tiny amount won¡¯t cause permanent harm.¡±

    Volithur did as instructed, finding the ¡®floor¡¯ of his soul and pressing a sliver of cosmic energy into it. The effort required was considerable. His body, mind, and aura apertures obeyed his will and opened with no problem, but using the externality aperture was like trying to lift a car off the ground.

    He barely managed to move a piece of cosmic energy the size of a blade of hair through the aperture. Then Volithur drew it back. Hardly anything came back, but even so he shuddered in disgust. Based on the Sergeant¡¯s obvious satisfaction, Volithur had made a strong reaction. It was like taking the blast of a skunk straight to the face. It was intense and wrong.

    ¡°I think I might throw up,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Like drinking straight from a sewage pipe,¡± the Sergeant observed.

    The analogy did not do great things for Volithur¡¯s tender stomach. ¡°How can you do this?¡±

    ¡°You can get used to anything,¡± the Sergeant explained. ¡°But it never stops being unpleasant. I hate every moment that poison is in my soul. You, Ward Harridan, are not desperate enough to sink to this level. I believe the Marshal has made a deal with you for an elixir.¡±

    Volithur nodded. ¡°If I impress him enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my place to say, Ward Harridan. But I will anyway. You have impressed him enough. So long as you don¡¯t completely slack off, you will get your blood boiling elixir.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Volithur had to restrain the instinct to heave his guts. His brain didn¡¯t understand that the poison in him could not be purged that way. ¡°I don¡¯t think drawing on chaos is the path for me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it, Ward Harridan. Please don¡¯t be spreading your new knowledge around. I do not ever want to explain to my superiors why a soldier under my command died of stupidity.¡±

    After that conversation, Volithur put primordial chaos out of his mind. It had taken half a day for the nausea induced by the ill-fated experiment to recede. For much of that time, he had watched his soul with his senses, paranoid the essence of chaos would do lasting damage. Some of the poison did cause some minor corrosion on the inner surface of his soul, but it was minor and barely noticeable, just a slight roughness that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    The rest of the chaos vanished on its own. Much like what he had observed with the ¡®twin touch game¡¯, the dilute chaos within him had attempted time and again to rise up in destructive surges but been held in check by its own self-interference. Then, gradually, the chaos had begun to denature, taking on the quiescent nature of cosmic energy.

    Volithur almost celebrated when he could no longer find any traces of chaos remaining in his soul, but he settled for quietly promising himself not to do anything so foolish ever again. With his concerns about soul damage relieved, Volithur refocused on his progression.

    The knowledge that he had impressed the Marshal already had the unusual effect of making him work even harder. Believing that the blood boiling elixir was his inspired a deep fear that it would be taken away from him before he had the chance to use it. He had become inured to the games played with resources, assuming that someone would screw him over for any or no reason. Yet the Sergeant¡¯s assurance cut to the heart. He had a powerful elixir coming his way. It was assured, so long as he didn¡¯t screw himself over.

    The body enhancement process, already moving quickly, accelerated further. He saturated the bones of his left wrist, then the carpals and phalanges. Then he did the same procedure on the right hand. His sparring performance, lagging due to his unwillingness to use his aura barrier, jumped forward as his knuckles had become hard as steel.

    Volithur then moved on to his feet. He did both ankles, then moved onto the heel, the tarsus, metatarsals, and toe phalanges. And then he was done transforming his bones. Volithur frantically went back through every bone in his body, double checking his previous work, before allowing himself to move on to the next step.

    Tendons. A term in body enhancement that referred not just to biological tendons, but also ligaments and other soft tissue directly in contact with bone. There were thousands of individual tissues for him to target in this phase. Fortunately, the tendons were less dense and would absorb cosmic energy faster than the bones had.

    Per one of the manuals on tendon enhancement, Volithur began with the large one connecting his calf muscle to his heel. The idea was to focus initially on the tissues most likely to be sprained or otherwise injured. Improving the heel tendon also had the benefit of increasing running speed and jump height since elasticity would increase alongside durability.

    He next worked on the meniscus and various ligaments of the knee, all of which were especially prone to injury. Their enhancement would not result in any noticeable performance improvements, but would go a long way towards reducing weak points.

    His efforts continued as the end of the month neared.

 Chapter 53

    Hector woke slowly from his nap, his mind automatically seizing on any new information to analyze its applicability to his situation. He reached the obvious conclusion before he was fully conscious: he needed to learn how to make a filter realm. If he had a convenient source of power, maybe he could get to level five and still have enough energy to power an aura barrier in a fight.

    But how did one go about making a filter realm? He had absolutely no idea. At least not yet. He would need to go back to sleep and hope Volithur encountered the answer to that question.

    Briefly, Hector considered trying to reach out to primordial chaos. The moment passed. He remembered the experience of chaos in Volithur¡¯s soul as if it had happened to him. It was just as unpalatable as stepping in the random vomit piles Maggie had begun leaving around the house. The elderly dog didn¡¯t seem to keep any meals down recently. He dreaded the reaction Jen would have to the loss of one of her friends. She had been studiously avoiding him for a while now, but that wouldn¡¯t last forever. Once she stockpiled enough resentment, any emotional event could be the trigger to unleash it all.

    And though he had been careful with the timing of Evelyn¡¯s visits, Jen was always an intuitive creature. She predicted something was bound to happen. He¡¯d denied it at the time, but when the conversation came up again she would see right through any evasions he attempted.

    He was, in fact, sleeping with the much younger woman his wife had worried about. In his defense, the two of them never stopped being separated. A separation that she initiated and took advantage of.

    Though¡­ the issue wasn¡¯t so much that he ¡®cheated¡¯ on her. It was the same issue that had plagued their relationship over the years. He didn¡¯t care as much about her as she did about him. Or at least didn¡¯t express his care in the same way. To him, earning the money and ensuring a comfortable lifestyle was being a good husband. He hadn¡¯t respected Jen¡¯s need for affection, which caused her a lot of pain over the years. Then he hadn¡¯t made any effort to stop her from leaving. He hadn¡¯t even tried to get back at her infidelity. To outward appearances, he didn¡¯t seem to care.

    And¡­ maybe that was a legitimate interpretation of his actions. He certainly had never been bothered enough to try changing for her. He¡¯d gone about his routine with or without her there, prioritizing work over all else excepting the sacred time he carved out for his fitness goals.

    Jen knowing he was with another woman would be a hard blow to her. It would signify to her that he had found someone worthy of his time. He couldn¡¯t explain to Jen that he and Evelyn were effectively working when they spent time together. Well, maybe not all the time they spent together. Regardless, the argument wouldn¡¯t hold any water with Jen. She would see a younger woman, an attentive Hector, and go crazy. The only reason it hadn¡¯t happened yet was because they hadn¡¯t been in the same room for more than a few seconds at a time.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to stop monsters from tearing apart my world and I have to deal with relationship drama,¡± he muttered. ¡°With a woman I¡¯m separated from, no less.¡±

    The thing he dreaded most about the inevitable clash was the big question: ¡®do you love her¡¯. A negative answer would be interpreted as a lie. Saying yes would be the quickest path to ending a fight, by making his perceived defection permanent. But that wouldn¡¯t be honest.

    He certainly liked Evelyn. She was interesting and quirky and passionate. They also had a fair degree of chemistry, he had to admit. Without the shared purpose of their mission, though, Hector didn¡¯t think whatever was between them would last long. They were bonded until the end of the world. By their estimation, that wasn¡¯t so far off.

    Tired of his thoughts, Hector went to the gym for a workout and then returned home to cook a meal. He didn¡¯t react when Jen returned home, and she disappeared into the guest bedroom without attempting to interact with him.

    Hector climbed onto the rooftop to cultivate for a few hours before returning to his room. He briefly attempted to sleep before realizing that his brain was still fully rested from the earlier nap. Not sure what else to do with himself, Hector drove back to the dive bar that Goth Girl Metal Extravaganza had played at and ordered a beer. This time he knew better than to touch the sticky counter.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Finding an isolated seat in the corner, Hector began to cultivate. The cosmic energy levels remained good, and he pumped his aura for a while. Then, deciding that he should tire his mind out to speed up the arrival of his next sleep session, he switched to mental cultivation.

    And discovered a treasure trove.

    The dive bar proved even richer in the mental space than the physical. Hector rapidly inhaled cosmic energy through his mental aperture. He roughly estimated it was twice as intense as what he had drawn in with his aura. With everything factored in, his current rate was about four times greater than what Volithur had done at his best.

    Unfortunately, the cosmic energy concentrations of the local mental space dropped as rapidly as he could absorb it. Within half an hour, the level had become equivalent to what he could find at his house. Hector had depleted the mental space of the dive bar.

    Which inspired him to go onto the next place. While waiting for a seat at the rooftop bar, Hector drained the mental space there and was able to leave without ever needing to order a drink. He moved on to the casino to mine that location next.

    Though it took a little more effort, owing to the large size of the casino, Hector managed to deplete the area in under two hours. To test the results of his efforts, he cycled his aura a few times. The physical space had not been impacted by what he did, only the mental.

    Hector began plotting his next moves. He would have to figure out how quickly mental spaces refilled with cosmic energy. If they did at all. It was possible he was exploiting a non-renewable resource and the energy levels would never return to the heights they had been. If that was the case, then the one time boost would be a minor benefit.

    However, if the energy recharged at a decent rate, he could drastically speed up his rate of cultivation by harvesting on a set schedule. Locations would be his resources instead of elixirs. Doubling his previous, already good, cultivation speed would be a huge benefit.

    Travel time between hot spots would reduce his effective energy collection rate, but that was a logistical problem he could optimize for. If he did aural cultivation once the mental space had been depleted, that might be better than a long drive. He needed more data points before he could begin plotting routes and deciding on schedules.

    Hector went to the city intersection the cops wouldn¡¯t let him loiter at and rapidly sucked down the cosmic energy there. He left before anyone could become suspicious of him and went to a nearby Walmart, looking for some place that was open. He discovered a gold mine there. Three hours later, he returned back home, giddy at his discovery.

    He shot a quick message to Evelyn. ¡®Look into my future and find good spots for mental cultivation.¡¯ She responded a few minutes later with a fire emoji. Of course she was still awake past midnight. He almost called her to share the specifics of his discovery, but held himself back so that Jen wouldn¡¯t overhear his conversation. He might have to clear the air between them if it continued to impact his plans. Tiptoeing around drama wasn¡¯t good for anyone long term.

    Assuming there was a long term. At the upper bound, he had doubled his cultivation speed. That meant three weeks until level three. That was a phenomenal pace, but probably not good enough. Then how long would it take to enhance his body to a level where he could stand toe-to-toe with monsters?

    Even if he managed to make himself impervious to the invaders, would that be enough to make a difference? He didn¡¯t know how many monsters were coming, nor how widespread their emergence would be. One invulnerable warrior might not be able to make a big enough difference to even be noticed. Given a large enough scale, his contributions would be indistinguishable from a rounding error.

    Hector added another item to the mental list of things he needed to learn from Volithur. First was ¡®how to make a filter realm¡¯, of course. But right after that came ¡®how to make a chaos bolt¡¯. He didn¡¯t know much about the chaos bolt, only that it was the most powerful offensive technique the Xian had. That was more than enough to recommend it.

    Before the end, his father mentioned seeing Lord Annihilator throw a massive chaos bolt that caused a mushroom cloud to form. The target of that blast, a dragon, survived. Hector hoped the monsters coming to Earth weren¡¯t the match of a dragon. And that Volithur would gain the knowledge he needed of the technique. And that a level three soul could handle throwing a chaos bolt at all.

    He hoped for a lot of things. For now, though, he needed to get back to dreaming.

 Chapter 54

    Volithur dropped Little Nero with a knee to the liver. His one-time nemesis held up a hand in an informal request to wait out the rest of the round and Volithur stepped back. Completing his skeleton and starting on his tendons had given him a tremendous advantage in sparring. It really could not be overstated.

    He firmly believed now that the Sergeant had been right to encourage him to practice body enhancement before pushing on to level four. His combat capabilities had skyrocketed already and the next steps in the enhancement process would increase his health and natural lifespan.

    The only thing that approached the benefits he had gained from body enhancement was mental enhancement. Volithur had no idea how he had won the calculations event of the prior year¡¯s academic tournament when his opponents had such potent means of bolstering their intellects. Either they had not effectively trained using those means or their mathematics educations had been criminally incompetent. Why not both options, he asked himself.

    Instructor Gordo pulled Volithur aside while Little Nero was still recovering. ¡°We¡¯ve talked about using a soft touch before, Ward Harridan. You rely too much on your superior constitution in sparring. If I sent you to train with the intermediate group as you are, it would not go well for you. They have similar levels of body enhancement to you, familiarity with their aura barriers, and a level of actual skill. You need to work your skills, not bully opponents.¡±

    ¡°Instructor Gordo, I¡¯m one of the smallest people in class.¡±

    ¡°With bones of steel, Ward Harridan. You might as well be fighting people half your size. If you don¡¯t start pulling your punches and concentrating on technical proficiency, I will send you to train with Instructor Lisbet instead. As things are going, my class is of little benefit to you and you are an active hindrance to the development of the other students. I¡¯m dismissing you from the rest of class.¡±

    Volithur spun on his heel and marched towards the barracks, a furious heat building in his chest. How long had Instructor Gordo pushed him to work harder? Often by having larger, stronger opponents beat him black and blue. Now, when it was Volithur¡¯s turn to dish out the punishment, all of a sudden spars were supposed to be gentle affairs.

    The Marshal met him at the door to the barracks, wearing a knowing smirk. ¡°Ward Harridan, I hear that you have become known as an overly aggressive sparring partner. And today you are ejected from Instructor Gordo¡¯s class.¡±

    Volithur gave the shallowest bow he thought he could get away with. ¡°I don¡¯t think the reputation is justified, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°No one ever does. The truth of the matter is that you are more powerful than your peers in the beginner class, even while they remain physically stronger than you.¡± The Marshal pulled three vials from behind his back, instantly capturing Volithur¡¯s full attention. ¡°I am not here to criticize you for being too rough today. I have observed your progress in body enhancement. You have done well, Ward Harridan.¡±

    The Marshal held forth two of the vials, which contained the murky liquid Volithur recognized as tea powder elixir. ¡°Your regular monthly allotment.¡± When Volithur had accepted both vials, the Marshal made a show of holding out the final vial on both hands. ¡°And your reward for meeting my expectations.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Marshal!¡±

    ¡°Take the blood boiling elixir first. You will need to perform physical exercise to fully activate it. Go to the library after and find the cultivation manual titled ¡®sinew strengthening plan¡¯. Discard any previous schemes you have made and follow the steps in that manual exactly. You will not have time to plot out your next move with a potent elixir powering you.

    ¡°This is a reward, Ward Harridan, but also a test. I am giving several individuals extra resources and watching how effectively they use them. You may receive a second vial if your performance merits it. When the blood boiling elixir begins to wane in potency, take both tea powder elixirs to extend your cultivation time.¡±

    A steely determination arose in Volithur, pushing aside the gratefulness to the Marshal, the lingering frustrations with Instructor Gordo, and even the ever-present loneliness that defined his existence. He had been given an opportunity that just might be within his capabilities. He was not talented at bodily cultivation, it was true. But he had dedicated a lot of time to building the skills.

    More than skill, though, he had a mind enhanced well beyond what any soldier under the Marshal¡¯s command could reasonably be expected to have. That was an advantage he held over the other competitors, whoever they may be. Especially with his focus on sensory training and his memorization of anatomy. If any of the soldiers aside from the Marshal and the Sergeant could find the exact location of anatomical features faster than Volithur, he would be shocked.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Ward Harridan? Get to work.¡±

    Without another word or even a bow of courtesy, Volithur imbibed the blood boiling elixir. Then he tucked the two other elixirs safely away and began to sprint for the library. Rather than a lengthy workout to activate the resource, he figured rapidly bringing his body to the absolute limit of its capabilities would be a more efficient use of time.

    He slowed to a walk as he entered the palace, fighting the urge to collapse to his knees. Instead, he fought through the dizziness and tingling in his extremities as he continued on towards the library. It took him a few minutes to find the ¡®sinew strengthening plan¡¯, which was long enough for his exhaustion to entirely evaporate as power began to flood his veins. It was a different heat than the one summoned by his anger at Instructor Gordo, a fierce and effervescent variation ripe with promise.

    Volithur sat at the library¡¯s reading table and began to cycle energy through his body aperture. He started at the first page of the dense manual and forced energy into the tissues illustrated there. When that had been done, he moved onto the second page, then the third. He turned a page every fifteen minutes or so.

    Not much later, he had completed the first major system from the plan: the spinal column. The vertebral discs had been the first order of business, followed by the vertebral ligaments binding bone to bone, then the tendons attaching bone to muscle.

    The sense of accomplishment barely rose before Volithur dismissed it in favor of seeking out the next area specified in the plan: the pelvis and hips. Then knees. Ankles and feet. Though energy still flowed through him at that point, his soul felt exhausted from constant use. He pushed forward anyway, eager to prove himself to the Marshal.

    The ribs came next, and there was far more connective tissue there than he would have imagined. His cosmic energy levels began to wane and he took the two vials of tea powder elixir to get a boost. That let him finish the ribs and start on the shoulder girdle. He was working on the arms when energy levels dropped precipitously.

    Holding nothing back, Volithur began to deplete the reserves in his soul. Though he had been spending down almost everything he gained from his daily cultivation practice over the past month, Volithur had benefited from the three elixirs in soul as well as body. He zeroed out that benefit by forcing the cosmic energy into his arms.

    When he found it utterly impossible to continue, Volithur had only his hands and face remaining. Though he didn¡¯t have the experience to hold an informed opinion, he suspected that he had gone about it much faster than was typical. Whatever he lacked in cultivation talent, he possessed a strong memory and, per Khana¡¯s assessment, excellent mental senses.

    Had the test set by the Marshal been one of pure cultivation, Volithur would have been at a disadvantage. Instead, perhaps unintentionally, the test had measured mostly how quickly and accurately he could locate the next tissue to infuse. With elixirs providing the cosmic energy, the core talent of cultivation had been removed from consideration. What remained was locating specific body parts and forcing energy into them. Most people struggled with the former. Volithur was the opposite in that regard. He was below average when it came to saturating the tendons, but fast at finding his targets. The entire situation had been tilted in his favor. For once, events conspired to help him instead of hurt him.

    As Volithur let himself relax, releasing the tension built up in his shoulders, he noticed Khana sat across from him. ¡°Oh! Hi, Khana. What are you doing here?¡±

    She watched him with a mysterious look in her eyes. ¡°I came for our lesson.¡±

    A moment passed as he took that in. He had been vaguely aware that people had walked through the library to enter and leave the classroom at some point. That meant he had skipped lunch, which was to be expected when you had a valuable elixir in your belly. And skipped class, which meant he didn¡¯t get his donation of cosmic water from the Head Scribe. It seemed silly to stress over missing out on a resource that was almost worthless, but he did anyway. And if it was time for lessons, he had also inadvertently skipped dinner.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t know if I am up for lessons today. I was doing body enhancement.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re almost done with your tendons,¡± Khana noted.

    ¡°I think I made good use of the elixir,¡± he said.

    ¡°Excellent use, Ward Harridan.¡±

    Volithur nodded. ¡°The Marshal¡­ he said if I made good use of the blood boiling elixir, he would give me another one. Hopefully¡­¡± he trailed off as he noticed Khana¡¯s steady eyes didn¡¯t leave his face. ¡°Uh, I wish I could share my good fortune with you, but¡­.¡±

    ¡°The best thing is for you to grow your strength,¡± she stated firmly.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking.¡± He stood and dipped an awkward bow in her direction.

    ¡°Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°Uh, yes, Khana?¡±

    ¡°The formal dance at the Evergreen Institute was well liked by the participants last year. They announced that it will become an annual tradition.¡±

    She still had not looked away from him and he found himself frozen like prey before a predator. ¡°Is that so? I guess that¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°I thought that since you ensured that we will both attend the competition, it would be helpful if you had some instruction in proper dancing. You are exhausted today, obviously, but maybe tomorrow we could practice that for your lesson?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ maybe? Yes, I guess. Bye.¡±

 Chapter 55

    His brain did not start working properly again until he reached the safety of the barracks. He¡¯d agreed to dancing lessons the next day. Khana had almost insisted on them. He wanted to be upset that he was being shortchanged mental enhancement training. That was a simple, clean emotion that he knew how to handle.

    The other implications of the situation only confused him. He liked Khana a lot. That much was obvious, judging by how often he fantasized about the two of them doing inappropriate things in the classroom. Some of those fantasies were about where he expected his mind to wander, but others were painfully simple ¨C just a casual statement that if she were a commoner the two of them would be a good match. What kind of fantasy was that to have? ¡®If I was a loser like you, I might date you¡¯ was not an acceptable dream for a self-respecting person to have.

    The way she kept staring at him, though¡­. And her insistence on teaching him dancing¡­.

    He remembered how she danced with him after the Head Scribe made him practice in the cottage with Hazen. That was the start of his crush. He hardly noticed Khana¡¯s existence prior to the competition trip. She tried to dance with Hazen in the cottage as well back then. And monopolized Ulysses on the dance floor before reading a declaration of love to the powerful boy the next day.

    The girl was not subtle when she liked someone, Volithur reflected. And she loved to dance. With anyone and everyone. A certain tension drained out of him. In its place rose the familiar ache. Volithur sought to revive the pride that had filled him before Khana sent his mind into a spin, but found it elusive.

    The Barracks Clerk, Sergeant, and Marshal were at the reception desk looking at the chalkboard holding the duty roster when he entered the barracks. The Marshal held out an arm to block Volithur¡¯s path without looking away from the board. ¡°Place Jay on delivery escort. He has respectful manners. Then put Devin on septic duty. Tell him that he will receive a free day next month for understanding the necessity. The rest of it should fall into place.¡±

    The Marshal turned to look at Volithur then, eyes scanning him from head to toes over the course of a long two minutes. Finally, the Marshal issued a solemn nod. ¡°You continue to impress, Ward Harridan. Skip training tomorrow morning and meet me in the library after breakfast.¡±

    Volithur blinked. ¡°The library, Master Marshal?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Ward Harridan. I wish to educate you on the circulatory system before you receive your next elixir.

    The Sergeant smacked Volithur on the back. ¡°Congratulations, Ward Harridan. You are shaping up to be a passable footman.¡±

    He stumbled back to his room in a daze. Between skipping two meals, concentrating obsessively for most of the day, and having his emotions yanked in multiple directions in quick succession, he was done.

    Volithur slept deeply and was up early the next morning to devour several bowls of rice porridge with thin slices of pork belly, a heap of bean sprouts, and a handful of roasted peanuts. He then went to the library to wait on the Marshal. He looked over the manual from the day before as he passed the time, planning the completion of his final tendons.

    ¡°Excellent, you are already here, Ward Harridan.¡± The Marshal pulled a book off an upper shelf and placed it down in front of him. ¡°Stay seated, boy. These are important matters and the only courtesy I want is for you to heed the lesson you are about to receive.

    ¡°Once you complete your tendons, your next task is the circulatory system. This is a much more delicate matter than what you have done so far. You must be cautious and meticulous. The proper order to saturate is heart first, arteries second, and veins third. A comprehensive plan for the exact order of individual arteries and veins can be adopted from one of the manuals in this room.

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    ¡°What I am concerned about is the first step. You will not survive a serious mistake during heart saturation. Many people opt to use an inferior method of enhancing the heart by slowly raising the level of energy in it over a period of weeks or even months. This is not only slow, it is a deviation from the cold forged method. You will be forging your heart instead.

    ¡°This requires a knowledge of anatomy to do safely.¡± The Marshal flipped open the book and pointed to the first image. ¡°The outer envelope of the heart is saved for last. If you enhance it first, its increased stiffness can cause the heart dangerous strain. But you also cannot enhance the muscles before the valves, or you could damage them with the increased force. And you cannot enhance the valves before these structures that anchor them ¨C it is a fibrous skeleton within the heart. So we begin with the anchors and then the valves of the upper chambers of the heart.¡±

    The Marshal continued to explain heart anatomy and the exact order to enhance individual components. The process was more complex than Volithur would have expected, and the seriousness of the exercise was impressed upon him by the Marshal taking so much of his valuable time to explain these things to him.

    When the lesson ended, the Marshal insisted that they switch roles and Volithur give detailed instruction on the order of events. They went through the entire process twice more before the Marshal grunted in approval and pulled out a vial.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, I was extremely impressed with the speed you demonstrated with your bones and your tendons. For this next phase, I would consider rushing your heart enhancement to be reckless. I do not say this often, but in this circumstance you should not be an efficient steward of your resources. Go slow, do it right, and do it safely.

    ¡°I will offer you one final incentive. If you can impress me by completing your tendons and doing a thorough enhancement of your heart, I will increase your allotment of tea powder elixirs from two a month to one every week. Do not let me return to discover you have almost completed your arteries but were sloppy with your heart, Ward Harridan. Slow and steady.¡±

    When the Marshal had gone, Volithur downed the elixir and began to do push-ups, sit-ups, squat jumps, and run in place until he felt the blood boiling elixir take effect like a hot flash. He dove for the seat and pulled the ¡®sinew strengthening plan¡¯ manual in front of him.

    For the next hour, he finished the tendons and ligaments of his hands, then he moved on to his face. There was far more connective tissue there than he thought reasonable, but after another hour he could say that he had completed the tendons.

    Then came the delicate work. Volithur began with the upper chambers of the heart, reinforcing the fibrous skeleton and then the valves. Then came the internal surface. Then he partially saturated the muscles there until they were about halfway done.

    He moved on to the lower chambers at that point, moving in the same order. Fibrous skeleton, valves, interior, then muscles to half-way. Then came the walls between the heart chambers. Then the portions of arteries directly connected to the heart. After that, Volithur returned to fully saturate all the muscles of the heart before finishing with the outer membrane.

    Throughout the lengthy process, his pulse had destabilized in disturbing fashion. At times, his heart labored for all it was worth, causing chest pains that worried him greatly. At other times, each pulse felt like a giant beating on his chest. There were strange losses of rhythm, feelings of exhaustion plaguing his entire body even though the elixir should have been flooding him with strength, and a couple of times his heart and locked up like it was having a seizure.

    In the end, though, he managed it. Volithur took the time to run his senses over the entire organ and ensure there was no part less than fully saturated. He was able to squeeze a few extra dribbles of power into it here and there, but the job was thorough.

    The power of the elixir had mostly been exhausted by that point, but Volithur decided to press ahead with the arteries. He pulled down a manual on the circulatory system, skipped its surprisingly small section on the heart, and began to trace out the major blood vessels leaving the heart.

    He ran low on cosmic energy and chose to draw the remnants of the elixir into his soul instead of pushing on with his body enhancement. Volithur put away the books and returned to the barracks just in time to grab a loaf of bread and then return to the palace for class.

    The vial of cosmic water went into his pocket for later use as he could not scrounge up the least bit of interest in continuing his body enhancement practice. He had done plenty of it already that day and there were dance lessons to stress about.

 Chapter 56

    The classroom was not large. It also had a lot of desks in it. Perhaps if Volithur had been more graceful or less nervous those facts would not have been quite so relevant. But he was not particularly graceful and his sweaty palms attested to how nervous he was.

    He stepped on Khana¡¯s toes a lot. And ran into furniture with some degree of regularly.

    His partner reacted to his shows of incompetence with mild amusement and heaped praise on him when he did something even halfway right. The more nervous he became, the calmer Khana grew. It worked the same in reverse: the calmer Khana grew, the more nervous Volithur felt.

    Only so many worries could fit in his head at one time, so he had to rotate through the many excellent options for concern. Where it was socially appropriate for him to place his hands. The location of the nearest obstacle he was about to trip over. Proper places for his gaze to linger. Was he breathing too loud? Had she noticed his unfortunate anatomical issue? Which of the several dances he had been taught were they currently practicing?

    They didn¡¯t even get to Khana¡¯s math lesson. She apparently preferred to dance during her time ¨C or maybe she found delight in tormenting him.

    When Volithur fled back to the barracks, he drank down the cosmic water from the Head Scribe and began to work on his arteries. As he turned to place the vial in the glassware receptacle, he saw the Marshal standing there, reaching out to take the vial from his hands.

    After scrutinizing it for a moment, the Marshal squinted at him. ¡°Where are you getting cosmic water?¡±

    Volithur¡¯s newly enhanced heart skipped a beat. ¡°Uh, the Head Scribe provided it to me, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°How often does the Head Scribe do you this kind of favor?¡±

    ¡°Every day,¡± Volithur admitted.

    The Marshal nodded. ¡°This explains a lot about your sudden improvement. How are you extorting resources from him?¡±

    ¡°Master Rowan wants to win another trophy from the academic competition. The Head Scribe needs me to win and feels he would lose face if I represented the household without being his student.¡±

    ¡°Foolish pride, then,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°I would not have extended the opportunities to you I have if I had known of this.¡±

    Volithur inclined his head to hide his shame. If he had just drank down the vial in the classroom like usual, he would still be in the good graces of the Marshal. Somehow, he had lost sight of the fact that the deal with the Head Scribe should be kept secret.

    ¡°Your heart appears to be well done. I will follow through with the promise I made to you,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°Tomorrow you move up to the intermediate group for combat training.¡±

    As Volithur retired to his hammock, working on pushing energy into his arteries, he wondered if being promoted to the intermediate group was a punishment for deceiving the Marshal or a reward for extorting the Head Scribe. At least he would still be receiving a weekly elixir. The blood vessels were proving rather easy to enhance, so he hoped to be able to complete that stage of body enhancement in a week or two.

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    After that came the respiratory system. Volithur¡¯s reading had led him to expect a massive increase in endurance once he had an enhanced heart and lungs. The more advanced soldiers never seemed to be out of breath no matter how hard they exercised. As he drifted off to sleep, he looked forward to seeing the effect of his improved heart the next day.

    Whether he had gained much endurance or not did not seem to matter much, he discovered. The intermediate students moved fast, hit hard, and had zero familiarity with the concept of mercy. Volithur found himself knocked to the ground, thrown to the ground, and even choked unconscious so quickly he didn¡¯t have a chance to demonstrate any cardiovascular improvements.

    He felt much like he had when he first joined the beginner class: weak and incompetent.

    Weaponless sparring was only the warm-up for the intermediate class. After a few rounds, they transitioned into spear training. Instructor Lisbet separated him from the other students and had him run through very basic solo drills while the rest of the class practiced more elaborate moves in pairs.

    When class ended, bruises peppered his limbs, torso, and face. Volithur wished he were still among the beginners, but resolved himself to growing strong enough to fit in with his new peers. He planned to finish his circulatory system fast. The respiratory system, while extremely important, was said to be one of the easier systems to saturate with cosmic energy. Just a wind pipe and lungs.

    After that came the digestive system, which took a while. Then, finally, he would be ready to enhance his muscles. That was when cultivators truly gained inhuman might.

    The knowledge from cultivation manuals swirled about his head, offering the strong opinions of their various authors for his future benefit. Though there were a lot of minor disagreements, all the books in the library agreed in broad terms. There were plenty of written warnings about other schools of thought, so Volithur knew that the ¡®cold forged method¡¯ was not the only popular style of body cultivation. It was the one the Shaocheth family endorsed, though, which meant it was the only one he would ever be given knowledge of.

    That day ended with an embarrassing dance lesson, though Khana had the good sense to focus on the simpler dances. There was less tripping and occasionally he even earned a word of praise from his enthusiastic instructor.

    It was fair to say that Volithur did not care for the changes that had been made to his life. Morning sparring frustrated and physically pained him. Evening dance lessons frightened and befuddled him in odd ways he spent a lot of time not thinking about.

    The only thing he enjoyed was body enhancement. Finishing his circulatory system was a major accomplishment. It would drastically increase his ability to survive trauma since he could now use just a touch of cosmic energy to seal off blood vessels at will. The soldiers told tales of great warriors losing an arm and then continuing to fight throughout the rest of the day. Now that could be Volithur. Not that he wanted any part of Xian war.

    In addition to enhancing his lungs, Volithur continued to work on the sensory exercises ¡®mimic monkey¡¯ and ¡®twin touch¡¯. They didn¡¯t cost much cosmic energy to train, even if they weren¡¯t very useful to his development. No one was using secret techniques that he could steal and observing primordial chaos had no benefits that he could determine.

    Indeed, he wasn¡¯t sure why he bothered to play the ¡®twin touch¡¯ game at all. The fear chaos inspired in him faded away over time. Instead, the activity felt strangely hypnotic like watching the random fluctuations of a campfire late at night. It entertained some primitive part of his mind searching for patterns in a place patterns did not exist. He considered it a waste of time, but perhaps his roommate Jay was right about him needing to relax every once in a while.

    When the vial of tea powder elixir arrived at the end of the week, Volithur completed the entirety of his left lung. The changes that wrought to his anatomy perplexed him. His enhanced lung¡¯s greater elasticity strained his diaphragm and the muscles that lifted his rib cage, making it hard to take deep breaths. Yet he definitely felt that he needed less air than before. His breathing had been thoroughly enhanced.

    Not wanting his organs to be asymmetrical in their saturation level, he got a solid start on the right lung that day, then completed it at the end of the next week and made a little progress on his wind pipe. In that time, he continued to be abused in sparring and flummoxed in dancing. Though¡­ he was getting better. Volithur wouldn¡¯t say he had moves but he didn¡¯t think he would any longer be bad enough for someone to remark upon his incompetence.

 Chapter 57

    Evelyn read from the notebook in front of her. ¡°The stadium, both strip clubs, the courthouse, that bar that does salsa dancing ¨C don¡¯t know what it¡¯s called, and the county jail.¡±

    ¡°Am I supposed to commit a crime to get access to the jail?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a jail, not a prison. You could get picked up for public intoxication and out the next day.¡±

    Hector shook his head. ¡°Hard pass. Do you have any idea if the energy levels recover after I drain them? And, if so, how long does that take?¡±

    ¡°It takes about two weeks for a place to recharge, on average. The more people who visit a place and the longer they stay, the faster the cosmic energy will build up.¡± Evelyn squinted at him. ¡°Any idea why people are increasing cosmic energy levels, but only in the mental bandwidth?¡±

    Hector looked down at the notebook. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s chaotic locations?¡±

    ¡°A courthouse?¡±

    ¡°Human conflict,¡± Hector amended his theory. ¡°Places where people argue.¡±

    ¡°Sports stadium, strip clubs, courthouse, jail ¨C yes. What about salsa dancing?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bar, right? When people drink, they argue.¡±

    ¡°I guess. You did say the rooftop bar and Jimmy¡¯s Watering Hole were good. What about the casino, though? They are pretty quick to kick out people.¡±

    Hector turned that data point around in his mind. ¡°Not necessarily. If we consider what happens in a courthouse to be arguments, then why wouldn¡¯t people trying to take money off each other in a card game count as conflict?¡±

    Evelyn stared at the list on her notebook. ¡°But why?¡±

    ¡°Maybe mental chaos attracts cosmic energy.¡±

    ¡°So are these places drawing cosmic energy from their surroundings? Or generating it?¡±

    Hector recalled the chaos that Volithur had absorbed. It had decayed into cosmic energy over time ¨C though not before causing some slight damage. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s other energies being transformed by chaos into cosmic energy?¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me or asking me, because that sounded like a question, my fella.¡±

    ¡°I have no way of coming up with an actual answer.¡± He paused. Volithur had practiced the ¡®twin touch¡¯ game for a while now, feeling the same spot with tendrils of cosmic energy from both body and mind. Why couldn¡¯t he do the same thing with his aura and mind to get a sense of his environment?

    Of course, first he would need to practice with the normal version of the ¡®twin touch¡¯ game. Hector extended the twin threads of cosmic energy into his right palm, prepared to be confronted with the wildness of primordial chaos.

    Instead¡­ he saw a blur. Hector restarted the game, making an effort to use crisper threads of energy. The result proved only slightly better. Was there something different about Earth compared to the world of New Mart? Perhaps the underlying chaos existed in a more subdued state around here. Or maybe he needed to get stronger. Increase his soul to level three, put some effort into mental enhancement, and everything might become clear as day.

    ¡°Theorizing can wait for tomorrow. I have a list of places to be.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no game today, so you can¡¯t get into the stadium. Strip clubs aren¡¯t open this early. And you don¡¯t want to go to jail. That leaves the courthouse or salsa dancing.¡±

    Hector shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll start at the courthouse. What are your thoughts on dancing?¡±

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    ¡°You¡¯re asking if I want to salsa dance? Not a chance, big guy. Sarcastic girl making fun of people in the corner is more my vibe.¡±

    Memories of sweaty palms, racing heart, and tentative stepping swirled in his mind. ¡°We don¡¯t have to dance if you don¡¯t want to. Hell, you don¡¯t have to ride along to watch me cultivate.¡±

    ¡°What else am I supposed to do? My day job? I¡¯m not going to make too much money before the world ends. Unless¡­ do you think the monsters are from the bank? Are they going to repossess my car? This truly is the end of the world.¡± Evelyn mimed clawing out her own eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen the monsters come in your visions. What do they look like?¡±

    Evelyn¡¯s goofy overacting faded into the seriousness that had begun to characterize her more often as of late. ¡°Like fucking monsters, Hector. They are like the final boss in Ghostbusters, they take on a form when they enter a world. Their appearances are all over the place. But there is one who¡¯s always the same. There¡¯s a scorpion the size of an aircraft carrier. How do I know it¡¯s the size of a naval vessel, you might wonder. Well, I saw it rip one in half with its claws. It also makes skyscrapers explode by stabbing with its tail. I remember seeing a news report where it survived a nuclear strike.

    ¡°That¡¯s just the biggest one, though. There were millions of them slaughtering their way across the major cities. The local area gets a Minotaur thing. That¡¯s half bull, half human, all asshole. He spends most of his time destroying cars and running through walls like an evil Kool-Aid Man. Lots of man-sized spiders and bears and demon dogs. It¡¯s a shit-show.¡±

    Hector didn¡¯t think he could help with the situation she described even if he entirely surpassed Volithur¡¯s level of strength. He doubted he would even survive long against such opposition. The thought occurred, not for the first time, that a better use of his remaining time might be doing all the things he had never had the chance to cross off his bucket list. Except¡­ what he wanted was to scale the heights of power that had been revealed to him.

    ¡°How fast do people die after the invasion starts?¡±

    ¡°My ability doesn¡¯t work like that. I see glimpses, little isolated moments without context. I can tell you that a lot die. I can tell you that the monsters are crazy good at finding people who try to hide from them. I can¡¯t lay out statistics for you.¡±

    Hector chewed on her answer. They really didn¡¯t have a lot to go on. And the reality of the situation was that he wouldn¡¯t be enough to turn the tide, no matter how powerful he became. ¡°We need to get some Jinn working on a technological solution.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t find any Jinn fighters. Just Drone Lady, and it¡¯s really hard to find a person when all you know about them is what their silhouette looks like.¡±

    ¡°Then we don¡¯t look for Jinn fighters. We look for Jinn who know useful things and put them in the same room. They can make armies of robot warriors.¡± Hector snapped his fingers. ¡°Jeremy from the warehouse knew how to build a fusion reactor. We¡¯ll recruit him first. Go online and find someone who knows robotics. Not just the Earth stuff, Jinn robots. What else do we need?¡±

    Hector took the notepad and pen off of Evelyn to make a list.

    Jinn Recruits

    1) Jeremy for fusion

    2) Engineer for robots

    3) Chemist for bombs

    ¡°Who else do we need?¡±

    Evelyn put her hand over the list to stop him from writing. ¡°What makes you think we can just throw together a team like this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s literally how businesses function. You bring a team of people with the right skills and herd them in the right direction to produce results. We have to figure out a way to convince these people to work for cheap or preferably free, but we will worry about that after you identify who we want on the team.¡±

    Evelyn groaned. ¡°I do not have the skills to hire and manage people, Hector.¡±

    ¡°I can help you there. But we can¡¯t just keep trying to power me up. I¡¯m not going to fight off millions of monsters by myself.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°Can you do the recruitment instead of me?¡±

    ¡°I can help. I still need to focus on my cultivation, so your availability is greater than mine. Start by searching for people and I¡¯ll make first contact with them. You can look into the future and see if any of them are worth spending time on.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Yeah. I could handle that.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now I have to drain the courthouse of cosmic energy. Then the salsa place.¡±

    ¡°Hey, do you want to eat Mexican tonight?¡±

    Hector paused. ¡°Sure. All the talk about salsa dancing has me craving chips.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, then.¡± Evelyn hesitated, and there was an awkward moment where neither of them was sure if they were supposed to kiss goodbye or not. ¡°Anyway¡­ bye!¡±

    Hector drove down to the courthouse, entered and walked through the various public areas before sitting in a courtroom. He drained the place in less than an hour without getting more than the occasional curious glance from security. Then he went to the bar with the large dance floor and ordered an appetizer of hummus to eat while he drained that area.

 Chapter 58

    Volithur hated his digestive system. The throat and stomach had been annoyingly energy intensive to saturate, but he had not begrudged them that outlay. They were organs in his body, not adversaries intent on blocking his progress.

    Then he came to the intestines. Those things drank down buckets of cosmic energy with no apparent change in their saturation level. The digestive organs ¨C intestines, liver, and pancreas ¨C were the final obstacle before he could start transforming his muscles. The stubborn refusal of the intestines to cooperate with his plan to skyrocket his combat capabilities made him irate.

    Yet every manual in the library said the same thing. Muscles had to be done after circulatory, respiratory, and digestive. Otherwise the enhanced muscles would starve the rest of the body of blood, oxygen, and nutrients. Volithur wondered how bad a nutrient deficiency could be, but stopped himself from anything drastic. His brain needed fuel, so he couldn¡¯t skip the intestines, liver, and pancreas.

    The manuals disagreed on whether things such as the kidneys and spleen should be lumped in with the digestive organs or placed at the end with the catch-all ¡®flesh¡¯ category. Volithur would not be energizing one organ more than necessary before moving onto his muscles.

    He complained to the Sergeant at one point, who laughed and admitted organs were particularly annoying. Volithur suspected it was worse for him than others. His advantage was precision in locating small anatomical features. His weakness was the efficient and forceful infusion of energy. In some ways, the digestive system was designed to frustrate him. It was big, complex organs that resisted saturation.

    The Head Scribe put an end to the evening dance sessions when he insisted on everyone meeting in the evenings to practice for the upcoming academic competition. There he formally met the replacement for Ulysses in the debate event. Lydia, only thirteen years of age, had recently reached the fifth level and was receiving every benefit the household could offer her. That included attending the Evergreen Institute¡¯s competition even when she was woefully unqualified.

    Because she carried such favor in the family, the Scribe could not single her out for remedial training but instead had to drag the entire team into the exercise. Volithur tried to feel out the Head Scribe¡¯s willingness to negotiate a deal for more compensation for attending additional training but was informed that their original agreement would remain intact.

    So the stress of the evenings changed. Instead of the fluttery tension evoked by Khana¡¯s nearness, he found himself bored and frustrated. The Head Scribe would force Volithur to work through math problems on one half of the board while Hazen spelled the words given to him on the other half. Then when they had been put through their paces sufficiently to appease Lydia¡¯s ego, the Head Scribe would have Khana read a single poem.

    Then the three of them would be required to debate Lydia on random topics. They were always assigned the weaker or less popular position and subtle expressions from the Head Scribe let them know when to make obvious mistakes. The game was rigged in Lydia¡¯s favor, which told Volithur two things. First, he had good reason to worry that their group might not win time in the cosmic chamber this year. Second, Lydia had enough favor in the household and enough vindictiveness that no one dared upset her too much.

    Volithur began to think that a daily vial of cosmic water may not have been sufficient payment for his part in the upcoming disaster. Lydia¡¯s debate strategy was nonexistent and she had a tendency to fall back on personal attacks instead of building logical arguments. During Volithur¡¯s practice debates with her, she would mention at least once that his opinions were inferior because he lacked noble blood and only had ¡®commoner sense¡¯. As if such entitled and lazy insults weren¡¯t bad enough, she didn¡¯t even use them to target claims central to the argumentative structure Volithur constructed. She just pronounced his inferiority in substitution as if that instantly won the debate.

    They could not succeed as a team when one of their number displayed such incompetence. Not against the caliber of opponents from the previous year. After a week of these training sessions, Volithur stayed behind to speak with the Head Scribe after the others had left.

    ¡°I have no more resources for you, Ward Harridan, and abandoning the team at this juncture would earn the enmity of Master Lydia. She is not one of the more charitable members of the family.¡±

    ¡°I do not intend to back out, Master Scribe. I wanted to express my concerns about the overall team¡¯s performance.¡±

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    The Head Scribe¡¯s weary expression looked like it had been intended as a scowl but ran out of steam before it fully formed. ¡°Focus on calculations, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I will have no problem with that, Master Scribe. My worry is what would happen if one of our members failed to pass the qualifying examination.¡±

    ¡°Such a thing will not happen to a Shaocheth, Ward Harridan. Have no doubt that the team will make it into the main competition.¡±

    Volithur could understand that well enough. The ¡®a Shaocheth¡¯ communicated a lot. The examiners of the Evergreen Institute would give a family member a free pass in the first round, deserved or not. ¡°And what of the overall team¡¯s performance in further rounds?¡±

    ¡°There are high expectations from Master Rowan and Master Lydia. We must strive to meet those. And if we do not for some reason¡­ we must frame the defeat in a palatable manner. I¡¯m certain you understand the need to deflect blame.¡± The Head Scribe lowered his voice even though there were only the two of them present. ¡°Perhaps the Evergreen Institute¡¯s judges have an unreasonable bias against youths in debates.¡±

    ¡°I understand your meaning, Master Scribe. But I can¡¯t help but worry that a defeat of the team might cause me problems in the future.¡±

    The Head Scribe shrugged. ¡°You are training to be a soldier, Ward Harridan. The rapid progress of your body enhancement is obvious. No doubt the changes to household policy decreed by the third daughter have been kind to you. If you are excluded from classes after this competition, it will not impact your future.¡±

    He wanted to argue that angry nobles could do a lot worse than kick him out of class, but knew that would be criticizing them too directly. So he let the conversation lapse and did not bring up his concerns again.

    The Marshal called him into his office at the start of the next week to scrutinize Volithur¡¯s progress. ¡°Your progress has stalled, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°The tissue of my intestines will not saturate, Master Marshal.¡±

    A frown came to the man¡¯s face and he looked Volithur over more closely. ¡°Ah. You are being sloppy, Ward Harridan. The intestine disperses nutrient resources to the rest of the body. The cosmic energy you have fed it has been similarly dispersed to the entirety of your body. You are not following the ¡®cold forged method¡¯, you are performing the ¡®flood method¡¯ by slowly increasing the energy levels of all tissues at once. Your lack of diligence has resulted in you deviating to an inferior body enhancement method.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s shoulders slumped. This was it. His resources would be cut off due to his incompetence. The meager progress he had been making would grind to a complete halt. His journey into power would end.

    ¡°My mother was a lord,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°She never received a sobriquet, but she had a level ten soul. My family was small and our estate unimpressive. Yet we lived on Tian. There, even imbeciles can cultivate to a level five soul by the time they reach adulthood. Anyone who is competent will make it to level six. With a little talent, you can reach level seven in under a century.¡±

    The Marshal forced a sad smile. ¡°I had little talent, Ward Harridan. Only the good fortune to be born as a noble on Tian. Had my mother not died in conflict with the Jinn, I would have been stuffed full of resources to bring me to the height of my potential. You will never see a true elixir in the fifth household, but they exist. Substances powerful enough that cultivators on Tian fight over them. I reached the sixth level by taking a gold plasma elixir. I would not have managed to advance before the dissolution of my family if not for that resource.

    ¡°So I understand what it is to lack cultivation talent, Ward Harridan. The third daughter tasked me with using the resources she acquired to maximize the development of our soldiers. I have kept thorough records of every elixir distributed in preparation of an audit. I need to be able to justify my actions to Master Zara.

    ¡°You are a bad bet, Ward Harridan. Just as I was.¡± The Marshal sighed. ¡°I only received one of these. There are at least ten soldiers who would make better use of it.¡± He placed a vial on the desk separating them. ¡°Push past your current hurdle, Ward Harridan. I absolutely cannot justify any further investment in you after this.¡±

    Volithur tentatively took the vial in his hand and stared at the clear liquid. It was not a blood boiling elixir. If anything, it looked like cosmic water to his physical sight. His enhanced senses indicated it was something far more profound. ¡°What is this, Master Marshal?¡±

    ¡°Silver plasma elixir. Made from the blood of a creature of Tian. The ones they send here are from cattle, I believe. It is no more potent than a blood boiling elixir in terms of cosmic energy content, but it is compatible with a mammalian body in a way that botanical ingredients are not. Even if you did not actively use it, this elixir would enhance your body.

    ¡°Use it well, Ward Harridan. Complete your digestive system using the cold forged method and pave the way for muscle enhancement. This may be a poor investment on my part, but it will ensure your path does not end prematurely.¡±

    As he cradled the glass container to his chest, tears welled up in Volithur¡¯s eyes. He bowed deeply. ¡°Thank you, Master Marshal.¡±

 Chapter 59

    The silver plasma elixir tasted briny and felt oily as it slid down his throat. His normal senses could easily trace the path of the liquid as it passed through, coating every surface on its way. Its calm energy immediately penetrated his organs and bolstered their strength without his conscious direction.

    Volithur began to practice body enhancement, inhaling the energy into his soul and exhaling it forcefully into his small intestine. A major portion of the energy followed his willpower and bonded permanently to his target. Perhaps twenty percent escaped into his blood to wander about his body. But the eighty percent that remained proved more than sufficient.

    In ten minutes, his stubborn intestines fully saturated. By this point, the copious amounts of energy from the elixir were reduced to only a quarter of the original amount. The energy was so much more eager to join permanently with his body than the other elixirs he used that he knew it would not linger much longer.

    Volithur hurriedly infused his liver, then continued on to his pancreas. He had successfully completed enhancement of the digestive system! There was now only perhaps five percent left of the elixir¡¯s original might. He could pick a muscle to focus on at that point, but he worried about unbalancing his physique if he ran out of energy before he could saturate antagonistic muscle groups. Such an outcome, while temporary, would cause serious coordination issues.

    So he used the energy on his spleen instead. The organ recycled red blood cells and played a critical role in the immune system, so it would provide him plenty of benefits. More than energizing his muscles, even, if his priority was health and longevity.

    Shortly after his spleen saturated, the elixir vanished from his senses, completely absorbed.

    In the aftermath of the experience, Volithur sat in contemplation. Less than an hour had passed and he had almost effortlessly passed through the most difficult stage of body enhancement. Most difficult for him, at least. All because of the Marshal¡¯s unexpected sentimentality.

    At times, he found it difficult to remember the searing hatred he once felt towards the soldiers. They destroyed his home city. Only a small contingent from the fifth household were present on his home world, so the odds were good that none of the people he had come to know were directly responsible for the death of his parents.

    Those justifications had not been enough to assuage his hate in the beginning. Over a year had passed now, and when he thought of the people he lived and trained with, his thoughts were no longer tinged with rage. He now yearned for recognition and opportunities and resources.

    The Marshal¡¯s kind gesture was deeply meaningful to Volithur, and it shattered the last remnants of spite towards the soldiers in his heart. He could not hate them any longer. That seemed a betrayal of his parents, his friends, and every innocent life that had been lost, but the guilt he felt could not reawaken his anger.

    Without any conscious intent, he had moved on. His sight had become so fixed on his future that there was no longer room in his life for the baggage of his past. Volithur accepted the development with as much grace towards himself as he could muster. If he wanted anything even approaching a good life, he had to surrender the resentment for good.

    The next day, he discovered how significant his gains from the elixir had been. The twenty percent of the cosmic energy that had escaped his control had not been wasted even if it didn¡¯t go where he directed it. The energy had found its way into every tissue in his body that had not already been fully saturated. That included muscles, nerves, skin, sensory organs, and more. Even if a firm weld of soul and body had not been achieved in those tissues, they had gained significant benefits.

    Volithur didn¡¯t beat anyone at sparring. Far from it. When he demonstrated an improved ability to handle himself, his opponents turned up the heat. They picked him apart with precise, powerful strikes until Instructor Lisbet called a halt to weaponless sparring. As always, Volithur was shown a couple of solo spear drills to practice before the rest of the class did more advanced training.

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    He did a quick inspection of his arms and discovered barely any traces of the beating he had been subjected to. There might be some minor bruising from treatment that a day before would have left him almost too sore to move. Further, the overall boost to his constitution would make his future efforts at body enhancement faster. He estimated his remaining body mass to be already a quarter of the way towards full saturation.

    During classes, Volithur used the cosmic water to follow the directions from a body enhancement manual intended to increase physical performance as quickly as possible. The first muscles targeted were stabilizers. They were small in mass, so could be saturated quickly, and their enhancement would enable the primary moving muscles attached to the joints they stabilized to be fully engaged. It rapidly unlocked the full level of strength already possessed by a body.

    He began with the muscles forming the rotator cuff of the shoulder. It took him five days to complete those. The next area of concentration was the hip stabilizers, which were comprised of the various gluteus muscles. Those took him only two days because his weekly dose of tea powder elixir provided ample energy to finish the job.

    Then came the trunk stabilizers, which included all of the muscles around the mid-section. The manual insisted that the spinal erector muscles that inserted onto the spine be enhanced first, which just so happened to be a long series of tiny muscles ¨C exactly playing to Volithur¡¯s main strength in body cultivation. It seemed like he had barely started on them and suddenly he was done already. Abdominal and oblique muscles were next, but they took a full week to complete, using up his daily vials of cosmic water, the weekly elixir, and every bit of energy stored in his soul.

    The results were worth every bit of investment he had made. During morning movement training, he felt strong and flexible and stable in the stances in a way he never had before. While sparring, he managed to land a few hits powerful enough to rock his opponents ¨C then promptly received his comeuppance for daring to escalate the intensity of the fight.

    After achieving his goal with the stabilizer muscles, Volithur switched to a different manual that emphasized combat durability. The initial emphasis was placed on the neck muscles so that shock from blows to the head could be absorbed instead of allowing the head to whip back and forth with traumatic impacts to the brain. Then the focus would shift to the major muscles of the legs as those provided a lot of the power for strikes on top of their contributions to mobility.

    Unfortunately, there was quite a bit of muscle mass to saturate. Progress proved very gradual.

    Meanwhile, Volithur found himself despairing about the upcoming academic competition. Lydia was an absolute brat who could not conceive of her inadequacies in the debate event. He wanted back in the cosmic chamber of the Evergreen Institute so badly. The trip there would be an absolute waste of his time without that reward. And the daily bribe of cosmic water from the Head Scribe would end as soon as their trip commenced ¨C Volithur felt some surprise that the Head Scribe had not cut him off already now that the family knew he would be on the team.

    The single deviation from the normal routine of his life was the arrival of a gift to the barracks. A cask of rum had been donated to them by Thassily. From the letter that accompanied it, they knew it was from the first batch he had made on his own and that he was quite proud of it. The quality of the product¡­ well, it was easy to understand why Thassily¡¯s father-in-law had not objected to giving away a cask. It was rough stuff indeed. Though that did not deter the soldiers in the least.

    Many toasts were made to the departed Thassily, wishing him great fortune and the wealth to afford such generosity on a regular basis. The Sergeant stood guard on the cask, stopping soldiers from partaking when they reached their limit. He eventually waved Volithur forward.

    ¡°Ward Harridan, take a more active role in the task set before us. Not only is this cask from your good friend, you are one of the few here with an enhanced liver.¡±

    Volithur filled his mug and sat beside the Sergeant, pumping his aura as he sipped.

    The Sergeant smacked the table. ¡°Drinking, Ward Harridan, is traditionally not done at the same time as cultivation. You can do neither justice when you attempt both.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Sergeant. I want to build up enough cosmic energy so that I can complete my neck muscles tomorrow.¡±

    The Sergeant waved his concerns away. ¡°A night off will not harm your progress. The life of a soldier is a difficult one. That¡¯s why moments like this are so important. I order you to have fun, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Master Sergeant,¡± Volithur said with mock formality.

    Then, sitting with the Sergeant, he became ridiculously drunk.

 Chapter 60

    Hector woke with a huge grin on his face. Volithur had made some real progress in his body enhancement. That not only made him happy for the friend he had never met, but also provided him the knowledge of how to copy the feat.

    His joy faltered suddenly. He didn¡¯t have the cosmic energy or resources to enhance his body. Sometimes the transition between dream and real world confused his circumstances. Volithur had made great strides, true, but that did not translate to Hector. He needed to know how to make a filter realm and launch a chaos bolt, not turn his body into a tank.

    At least the day before had been productive. He¡¯d drained the courthouse, the salsa dancing bar, and two strip clubs ¨C where each time he sat out of the way for only as long as it took him to drain the mental space. In between those trips, he had cultivated using his aura at the casino and made a few calls to get the contact info for Jeremy ¨C the Jinn guy from the warehouse who knew how to make a fusion reactor. Apparently, Jeremy had quit not long after Hector to work on a personal project.

    It hadn¡¯t been hard to convince Jeremy over email to meet up with him to discuss plans for the future. The boy had always respected Hector and probably expected his retired boss wanted to get involved in the fusion business. No doubt Jeremy had agreed to the meeting because he needed money to fund his venture. Hector was almost looking forward to the boy¡¯s expression when they revealed that the ¡®plan for the future¡¯ was more of a ¡®save the world¡¯ thing than a ¡®make money¡¯ thing.

    Since they weren¡¯t meeting until noon, Hector went to the gym for a long workout. Then he went to the rooftop bar ¨C the location of their lunch meeting ¨C and got in several solid hours of cultivating. After all, he had to be diligent about increasing his energy levels if he wanted to contribute in any way to the upcoming battles. Better environments were an effort multiplier, meaning he still had to put in effort ¨C multiplying by zero didn¡¯t generate big numbers.

    Evelyn arrived fifteen minutes early carrying a laptop absolutely covered with stickers of various bands and anime characters. She opened it up to show him a video recorded by a middle-aged Indian man wearing a tailored suit. When she hit play without saying a word in preamble, Hector leaned forward to see the screen better.

    ¡°Hello, technology aficionados, I¡¯m Professor Rahman and this is another episode of ¡®The Jinn Files¡¯.¡± The man spoke in unaccented English and had the charisma of a popular educator. ¡°While there are many interesting aspects of Jinn technology, the thing most intensely associated with their species is without a doubt robotics. Not only did the Jinn create vast numbers of automated drones to power their post-scarcity economy, they even used their mastery of legal energy to integrate devices into themselves like science fiction cyborgs and ultimately upload themselves so that they became machines.

    ¡°While many of the epic feats of technology demonstrated by the Jinn aren¡¯t possible without powerful souls, there are many seemingly mundane areas that can be exploited to utterly transform life on our world. There is no reason we can¡¯t leverage the knowledge provided by our Jinn benefactors to automate entire industries. If this transition is managed properly, no one would need to work more than eight to ten hours a week to earn enough money to live comfortably.

    ¡°The history of humanity is essentially the history of technology. And that story has accelerated drastically in recent times. Friends, it is about to go into overdrive. Today I want to specifically discuss fully automated factories. This kind of thing is a staple of science fiction stories. Robots building anything you want ¨C including more robots. And in this video, I want to do a walk-through of my prototype automated factory.¡±

    Hector hit the pause button as Jeremy joined them. ¡°That guy looks promising,¡± he said.

    Jeremy glanced at the frozen image on the screen and nodded. ¡°Professor Rahman. I subscribe to his channel. Good stuff.¡±

    ¡°Hello Jeremy, good to see you again.¡± Hector stood and offered his hand.

    Jeremy shook and turned to very obviously look Evelyn up and down. ¡°Is she your girlfriend?¡±

    ¡°This is Evie,¡± Hector said. ¡°She¡¯s an Arahant.¡±

    The inappropriate ogling stopped. ¡°That¡¯s cool. Can you do illusions?¡±

    Evelyn shot a dubious glance towards Hector before answering. Jeremy had not made a positive impression so far. ¡°I concentrated all my energy on developing a realm.¡±

    ¡°A realm? I heard once ¨C I mean, the other me, the dream me, heard once ¨C that Arahants all have conceptual realms. That¡¯s the Jinn word for when we build a realm that relies on resonance. Most Jinn do a computational realm since it lets them boost their brain power with a virtual computer that can¡¯t be hacked. But the other me had a conceptual realm for fusion.¡±

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    When it became clear that he was done talking, Evelyn answered. ¡°Almost all Arahant realms rely on resonance. Some decide to make dream realms for their personal entertainment. My dream girl was a Sage, so I built mine around a true insight.¡±

    Jeremy sniffed. ¡°Jinn don¡¯t do true insights. We don¡¯t passively accept the world as it is, we change it to be the way we prefer.¡± He paused and considered the two of them. ¡°So why is the Arahant at our meeting?¡±

    ¡°Ask her what her realm does,¡± Hector said.

    Jeremy looked towards Evelyn again. ¡°Do I actually have to repeat his question?¡±

    ¡°I built a realm around the true insight of possibility. It¡¯s a future mirror. Sometimes known as a scrying lens.¡±

    The skepticism dropped from Jeremy¡¯s stance. ¡°You¡¯re an Arahant fortune teller? Err¡­ that¡¯s the wrong term. Your other you is a Sage. That¡¯s a big deal, right?¡±

    ¡°Her name is Sage Levinia Grant Chauvin.¡±

    Jeremy shrugged. ¡°So¡­ are you going to look into the future and pick the best utility company for us to work with?¡±

    Hector waved for Jeremy to take a seat. ¡°Let me ask you a question about your dreams, Jeremy. Did the topic of monsters ever come up?¡±

    ¡°My memories are from way before the fall of Aes, so monsters weren¡¯t on the radar for the Jinn of that time. I mean, they were a thing that happened sometimes on unempowered worlds, but it wasn¡¯t a big deal like the dragons.¡±

    ¡°Dragons?¡± The question slipped out before Hector could help himself, opening a tangent instead of letting him steer the conversation.

    ¡°Oh yeah. I remember things from the time of the Dragon Compact. The people who put together the dream timelines estimate that was over a century before the fall of Aes. A dragon arrived on one of the unempowered worlds the Jinn and Xian were fighting over.

    ¡°Instead of withdrawing like sensible people, both armies decided to compete by trying to kill the dragon. Bad call. Really, really bad call. The dragon unleashed its chaos domain, just started shredding reality. The armies got tired of getting their asses kicked and the survivors ran back to their home worlds.

    ¡°The dragon follows the Jinn through their wormhole back to Terra. That¡¯s the Jinn home world, in case you didn¡¯t know. Things start going South right away. Any tech that gets close to the dragon starts to malfunction unless it is directly stabilized by a powerful Jinn soul. The War Barge Elliot flies from halfway across the world to fight the thing and he gets his ass kicked.

    ¡°But just as things are about to get really bad, an army of Arahants arrive to help out. At its head was the Sage of Severing. I guess they knew they needed to be there because the Sage of Foresight¡­ wait.¡± Jeremy turned to stare at Evelyn. ¡°What was your other you¡¯s name again?¡±

    ¡°Levinia Grant Chauvin. The Sage of Foresight.¡±

    Jeremy shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s crazy. You¡­ how does that even work? The Sage of Foresight¡­ do you remember doing all of this?¡±

    ¡°Like I did it myself,¡± Evelyn said offhandedly. ¡°My dream girl got the Sage of Severing ¨C whose actual name was Sage Windrow Damien, by the way ¨C to lead a small army of elites from Maya to Terra. Then she helped them coordinate a strategic retreat so that the dragon would chase them to Tian and attack the Xian.

    ¡°After that, she went back home and let events play out like she knew they would. Sage Windrow Damien, War Barge Elliot, and Lord Annihilator teamed up to kill a dragon ¨C the first time such a thing had ever been done. In the aftermath, leaders from prominent nations on Tian, Maya, and Terra signed the Dragon Compact, agreeing to put aside all differences and come to each other¡¯s mutual aid during any dragon attack.¡±

    Jeremy scratched his head. ¡°Jesus. You got a good dream person. Why are you here with us? You should be out doing important things.¡±

    And there it was. The opportunity had presented itself. Hector leaned forward. ¡°Jeremy, Evelyn had a vision. Lots of them, actually. Ones like the Sage did about the dragon.¡±

    A shadow passed over Jeremy. ¡°It¡¯s not a dragon, is it? Shit, man, this world cannot survive a dragon.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not much better,¡± Hector said. ¡°Millions of monsters invade.¡±

    Jeremy pointed accusingly at Evelyn. ¡°What the hell are you wasting your time with us for? You need to do something about this. Earth doesn¡¯t have war barges sitting around who can shoot schism beams.¡±

    ¡°I am doing something about it,¡± Evelyn mumbled.

    Hector put a firm hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Conventional military forces are going to be useless against this threat. We want to build armies of Kamikaze drones. Fly in and set off bombs.¡±

    The moment Jeremy put together exactly why he had been invited to meet with them was exceedingly obvious. Pure shock, followed by dread. ¡°Oh shit. Am I really the best you guys could find? We¡¯re screwed. So, so, so very screwed.¡±

 Chapter 61

    Volithur had just started enhancing his leg muscles when the time came to leave for the academic competition. As the year before, he met the rest of his party in the library following breakfast. Master Rowan brought vials for all of them, with Volithur and Hazen receiving cosmic water in place of an actual elixir. They raised their glassware in toast of their upcoming victory and then were on their way.

    Khana elbowed Hazen out of the way to sit beside Volithur on the transport vessel, which he pretended not to notice. Master Rowan chatted amiably with the Head Scribe and Lydia while the rest of them were ignored.

    ¡°This was the first elixir I¡¯ve had in a long time,¡± Khana whispered to him. ¡°Though not as long a time as they think.¡±

    Volithur blushed at the reminder of the time he gifted her one of his tea powder elixirs because she had seemed sad. The voice that had always chided him for being an idiot around Khana had been fading lately. Another voice had begun to take its place. One that said crazy things. Like complaining that he no longer got to dance with Khana.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad we have a chance to spend time away from the estate,¡± she continued.

    Volithur made a noise of agreement. Khana smiled radiantly in response and let the rest of their ride pass in silence, other than the occasional remark from Master Rowan that the Head Scribe would rush to agree with.

    Upon their arrival, they were taken to the amphitheater while one of the ever-present servants approached the pilot of their shuttle. No doubt their bags were being carried to the cottage assigned to them. The nobles sat in their padded cushions while the commoners stood in the back. As Volithur positioned himself beside Hazen, Khana squeezed her way between them, nudging Hazen away with well placed elbows.

    The glance Hazen shot at Volithur effectively communicated an ¡®it¡¯s your funeral¡¯ vibe. Volithur didn¡¯t acknowledge the silent message. On the stage below, Stella Ilvar of the Evergreen Institute welcomed them, provided an itinerary similar to the previous year, and instructed them on how to find their cottages.

    An hour later, the qualifying examinations began. Volithur breezed through the simple math equations to get a perfect score once more. Hazen achieved a similar feat in spelling. Debate and recital were scored differently, so the only feedback for Lydia and Khana was that they had advanced to the next round.

    They celebrated at lunch, then retired to their cottage for the afternoon since no one was scheduled for a later exam. Master Rowan regaled the Head Scribe with his recollections of the previous year¡¯s victory while Lydia pulled aside the other members of the team.

    ¡°The three of you need to make sure you don¡¯t mess this up for me,¡± Lydia announced. ¡°Especially Hazen and Harridan. I don¡¯t like depending on dumb commoners, not even for simple things like spelling and calculations. I¡¯ll see you both cut off from resources if you disappoint me.¡±

    ¡°We will strive to meet your expectations, Master Lydia,¡± Hazen said with a bow.

    Volithur lowered his head to avoid her eyes, not willing to abase himself for this child. For better or worse, he spent a lot of time sparring at high intensity. As his performance on the training field improved, Volithur found it increasingly difficult to suppress his pride. He would have to walk carefully if someone from Tian arrived at the fifth household, but none of the family permanently in residence intimidated him much any more. They were typically just level five in the soul and seldom had more than a slight amount of body enhancement. He suspected they were an embarrassment to the more prominent members of the militant Shaocheth family.

    ¡°See that you do,¡± Lydia said in dismissal.

    The young girl had barely left the room when Khana swooped in to loop her arm in his. ¡°I hope you remember your dance lessons, Ward Harridan.¡±

    He mumbled something in response and she leaned harder into him. ¡°I need to start getting ready. I can¡¯t look a mess at a formal event.¡±

    ¡°You never look a mess,¡± Volithur said. Judging by the smile he received, that had been the right answer. Or, judging by the way Hazen seized the lapels of his uniform the moment they were alone in the common room, it had been a very wrong answer.

    ¡°What do you think you are ¨C¡±

    Volithur drove his knee into the other boy¡¯s side, dropping him. As Hazen bent himself in half on the floor with a soft groan, Volithur knelt down to look him in the eye. ¡°Stay out of my business, Hazen. You made it clear a year ago that you are not my friend and I don¡¯t care to hear your advice.¡±

    ¡°You will¡­ get us both¡­ in trouble. Khana is¡­ still noble.¡±

    The hardness that had been forged in his heart through a year and a half training with soldiers possessing superhuman abilities came to the surface. Volithur seized the boy¡¯s jaw with one hand and turned the face towards his own. ¡°Maybe you should spare some worry for how I might respond to your interference in my matters. I don¡¯t care who your father is, Hazen. I will find you alone and I will hurt you worse than Master Dorian hurt me.¡±

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    Hazen¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Won¡¯t interfere. Promise.¡±

    Volithur retired to his own room in the cottage, struggling to rein in the rage in his veins. He sat on the bed to cultivate. The rhythm of his aura expanding and contracting brought his emotions back under control in short order. Volithur forced his thoughts to remain still, refusing to analyze his intentions or obsess over consequences.

    When he was at his best on the training field, he didn¡¯t overthink his tempo, footwork, or combinations. He let his mind focus without locking it into a specific approach and things happened. That¡¯s how he would handle¡­ whatever he was doing now.

    They attended dinner as a group and then headed over to the dance hall early. Their interactions thus far had been led by Master Rowan and Lydia. That meant a lot of anecdotes that made them seem important and condescending advice no one else needed.

    The large room already had several parties present and Lydia wasted no time turning to face the commoners with hands on her hips. ¡°Hazen and Harridan, I saw a lot of unfortunate girls earlier in the day. They will require your services on the dance floor, so don¡¯t let me catch you sitting down.¡±

    Khana placed her hands on her hips in a subtle mockery of the younger girl. ¡°Ward Harridan, perhaps it would be best if I assessed your skill level before anyone else arrives.¡±

    Volithur held out his arm in the way that she had drilled into him and she took it, the contact of their hands like electric. They moved a good distance from where their group had settled in before facing one another and beginning one of the more sedate movements.

    ¡°Are you concerned about being on your feet all night?¡±

    ¡°I can handle the physical discomfort,¡± he said. ¡°I do worry about the tediousness.¡±

    Khana squeezed his hand. ¡°Surely dancing with me all night won¡¯t be that bad.¡±

    ¡°All night?¡±

    Her smile was infectious. ¡°I worry I might get jealous if you had another partner.¡±

    Volithur found himself standing still, staring down at the girl who had haunted his thoughts every spare moment for many months now. Her swaying stopped so that they were both rooted in place. ¡°Whatever is the matter, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°I think you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.¡±

    His words caught her off guard, cutting through the steady stream of banter she tended to employ in his presence. In the end, all she could manage was his name. His real name. ¡°Volithur.¡± It sent chills down his back.

    They continued to dance throughout the evening. Volithur proved more clumsy than most, but that had more to do with his state of distraction than lack of skill. Khana, for her part, did not attempt to force the twirls and quick switches that they had rehearsed for endless weeks. Instead, she held him close and watched him with her mysterious eyes.

    A time or two, someone tried to cut in to dance with him or Khana, but they simply danced away without responding. Most people around them were savvy enough to realize the two of them were lost in a world of their own.

    It wasn¡¯t until the Head Scribe appeared to collect them that their fantasy ended. They separated and joined up with the others to return to the cottage. Volithur managed to sneak glances with Khana on the walk, each of them grinning like fools the whole time. The Head Scribe continually angled to position himself between them without making it seem too obvious.

    Inside the cottage, Master Rowan seized the Head Scribe and insisted on a celebratory drink to cap off the night. Lydia claimed first shot at the shower and Hazen disappeared into his room. With only the two adults in sight, both of them concentrating on selecting an appropriate liquor from the cart, Khana was able to pull Volithur into her bedroom unobserved.

    As always in her presence, his heart pounded like it would shatter his ribs. This time, however, no fear accompanied the adrenaline. He met her upturned lips with his own. Felt hands pulling him closer until the only distance between them was their clothing. His own hands touched her face, her back, and down further.

    Their mouths welded firmly together as they made slow steps towards the bed, gasping for breath every time they came up for air. As they were about to take things horizontal, the door creaked open and Master Rowan¡¯s nasally voice shattered the mood.

    ¡°What do you think you are doing to my niece, Ward Harridan?¡±

    Khana spun around to face the irate noble, angling to put herself before Volithur. ¡°Uncle!¡±

    ¡°She may be disinherited, but she is my blood and a noble, not some sultry commoner!¡±

    ¡°Uncle! Please! Ward Harridan has asked for my hand in marriage!¡± The rage of Master Rowan sputtered out. Khana continued to speak. ¡°I accepted and became carried away in the moment. It is my fault.¡±

    Master Rowan turned his eyes back to Volithur. ¡°Is this true, Ward Harridan?¡±

    Khana¡¯s nails dug into his hand. ¡°It is, Master Rowan.¡±

    ¡°You were always one to be overly emotional,¡± Master Rowan admonished his niece. ¡°I will forgive the impropriety. But are you certain you wish to shackle your fate to that of a commoner?¡±

    ¡°I am certain, Uncle Rowan.¡±

    ¡°Then so be it. Ward Harridan, you will be sharing a bed with Hazen tonight. There will be no further intimacies until a wedding has been held.¡±

 Chapter 62

    Volithur spent the night in a state of shock. He was engaged to marry Khana. But why? Obviously the fact that he had backed up the story of a proposal in front of Master Rowan had been a major factor in the outcome. What he wanted to know ¨C needed to know ¨C was why Khana had come up with that lie in the first place.

    They had been caught, sure. In the moment, Volithur assumed she was throwing him a lifeline in a precarious situation. Master Rowan had been quite upset, after all. What trouble might have been stirred up if his ire remained raised? Certainly it would not have been good for him.

    Yet, as someone who had lied and maneuvered for increased access to resources, he couldn¡¯t help but think of a more cynical explanation. Khana did not want to be sent away to the Evergreen Institute to be trained as a scribe. She had attempted to win the heart of Ulysses a year before to escape her fate. More recently, she had lowered her standards. A future member of the Lord General¡¯s retinue would be acceptable. She just had to maneuver him into a compromising position, get caught, and coerce him into marriage. It would be impossible for him to escape the way Ulysses had. Not as a commoner caught embracing a noble girl.

    He tried to push the doubts out of his mind, remembering the dance floor and the shared glances and the hunger in her lips. It couldn¡¯t have all been false, could it? Volithur didn¡¯t want to believe her desire for him had been a lie, but¡­ what did he know of women? He was the perfect mark for a desperate girl. As far as she knew, at least.

    Because he had a secret. One that the Castellan suspected but only Thassily ever truly knew. He was not a future footman to the Lord General. He was just some ward granted an education. If he was lucky, everyone would assume the Lord General just forgot about the promise and let him slide into obscurity in some minor role in the fifth household. If he was unlucky¡­ things could become difficult. For both him and his future bride.

    A third line of thought kept resurfacing. One not really related to the purity of Khana¡¯s intentions. One much simpler to latch onto and intriguing to imagine. Once they were married, he would have the opportunity to continue what had been interrupted by Master Rowan. Which would be nice. Really, really nice.

    Volithur managed maybe two hours of sleep the entire night. He at least had the comfort of knowing that he had ruined Hazen¡¯s night as well. The boy muttered every half hour about Volithur ¡®moving too much¡¯. Having spent a year and a half sleeping in a hammock suspended above that of a roommate, Volithur didn¡¯t have much sympathy for light sleepers.

    The Head Scribe made Volithur sit beside him at breakfast, while Khana was kept several spots down on the other side of the table. She still managed to shoot him the occasional smile, which did a good job of suppressing his fears that he had been callously manipulated. Maybe there had been some calculation involved in her actions, but if she still cared for him then it would be hypocritical for him to fault her for maximizing her opportunities. He certainly took advantage of situations himself. If anything, their opportunistic natures made them a good match. Right?

    Then came their first match-up of the competition. He won calculations, Hazen won spelling, and Khana won recital. Lydia¡¯s debate performance did not suffice. The girl stewed quietly as they watched the other teams having their first matches on stage.

    At lunch, Lydia decided that the reason for her loss was that she had trained debate against two commoners and a disinherited noble. She hadn¡¯t been used to countering intelligent arguments. But she would surely win the next round. Master Rowan, who had witnessed the fiasco on stage, avoided entertaining or disagreeing with her self-assessment by launching into a detailed commentary on the quality of food served.

    The second round went poorly. Volithur won, Hazen won, and the two girls lost. Then when the tie breaking logic was applied, it was determined that the other team had a superior record. The Shaocheth team had been eliminated in the second match of the day. Everyone waited for Lydia to explode, but the girl instead began to tell anyone who would listen ¡®it was known¡¯ that the judges were accepting bribes. Members of the other teams responded to this with cold politeness as Master Rowan squirmed in embarrassment.

    Dinner began with more of Lydia¡¯s diatribe about dirty judges and unfair decisions. At some point, Master Rowan decided that line of conversation could not continue and made an announcement. ¡°I have decided to grant Ward Harridan¡¯s request to marry Khana. Since she will no longer need to attend the Evergreen Institute, some of the funds freed up can be spent to rent a house in the city.¡±

    The Head Scribe and Hazen clapped politely while looking straight ahead ¨C a clear sign of their disapproval. Meanwhile, Lydia made a sour face. ¡°Marrying a commoner? Your prospects continue to worsen, Khana. I¡¯m ashamed to know you carry the blood of the Lord General.¡±

    Khana¡¯s smile dimmed and she nodded her head in acceptance of the critique. Volithur opened his mouth to rebuke the child and had his foot stomped aggressively by the Head Scribe.

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    Master Rowan issued a halfhearted defense of his niece. ¡°Marrying a future member of the Lord General¡¯s retinue is not a terrible match. She will be allowed to emigrate to Tian.¡±

    Lydia¡¯s face colored bright red. ¡°I will go to Tian as a rising star of the family.¡±

    ¡°No doubt, Lydia,¡± Master Rowan continued, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t lessen Khana¡¯s ¨C¡±

    ¡°Marrying a servant? It¡¯s a tragedy!¡±

    Master Rowan slammed his palm onto the table. ¡°If this man is worthy of the Lord General¡¯s retinue, then he is worthy of Khana¡¯s hand. Do not second guess the judgment of our ancestor.¡±

    Lydia bared her teeth in a snarl. ¡°You¡¯re a permanent resident of the fifth household, Rowan. A loser. No one respects you. I¡¯m going to insist your resources be cut.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me if I don¡¯t quake in fear at the thought of you turning your debate skills against me,¡± Master Rowan sniped.

    Their private dining room fell silent after that, other than the occasional sounds of eating. Back at the cottage, the Head Scribe pushed Volithur towards Hazen with a snapped ¡®watch he doesn¡¯t sneak off¡¯ before going to work damage control. For the rest of that evening, the Head Scribe split his time between Master Rowan and Lydia, attempting to placate both egos. Volithur cultivated in the corner of the main room to pass the time, doing his best to ignore the tense atmosphere.

    Master Rowan said repeatedly that they had to attend the evening entertainment provided by the Evergreen Institute, then became too drunk to stand, which effectively put an end to those plans. Everyone went to bed in poor humor that night.

    They suffered through a tense breakfast, then watched the tedious end of the competition. The second place team was from Thrush, home of the girl Jemmi who had conversed warmly with him at the previous year¡¯s dance. While another set of teams was battling for third place ranking, Jemmi limped over to where he sat with his group.

    She turned a chair from the first row around and sat facing him. ¡°Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations on your team¡¯s second place finish, Master Jemmi,¡± he said.

    ¡°Our conversation from last year inspired me to hire a foreign calculations tutor. I wanted to thank you for your assistance.¡±

    Volithur forced a smile. ¡°I am glad you found me an inspiration, Master Jemmi.¡±

    ¡°My only regret is not getting to face you on stage again. I am certain I would have been your match this year, Harridan. This is my final year before my majority, so I won¡¯t have the chance to prove my superiority.¡± The girl paused. ¡°Though you seem to be doing well for yourself. Based on the extent of your body enhancement, I assume you intend to be a soldier?¡±

    ¡°I am being trained as a footman for the Lord General.¡± The lie came easily now.

    Jemmi¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion. She glanced to Hazen sitting beside him, and the boy shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°I see. Well, I won¡¯t trouble you any longer. It was a pleasure knowing you, Harridan.¡± Jemmi¡¯s mannerisms had grown more polite suddenly, and she departed without another word.

    They stayed to witness the awarding of trophies, then departed once the winning team members had been led away for their treatment in the cosmic chamber. Master Rowan was stopped a few times by fellow nobles who wanted to comment on his team¡¯s failure to make the finals. He awkwardly turned the jabs aside by stating that academics had taken a back seat since two of the team¡¯s members were recently engaged to be married.

    Volithur found himself glad they were not attending the banquet that night. He might not have his friend Thassily at the barracks anymore, but anything would be preferable to the tense atmosphere that had pervaded their group since their elimination the previous day. He closed his eyes to rest on the transport vessel as the pilot took them home.

    When they touched down, the Head Scribe held up his exit so they could speak alone. ¡°Ward Harridan, your presence in class is no longer desired.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Master Scribe.¡±

    The pilot waited until they were alone to slap Volithur on the back. ¡°You have done well for yourself, kid. The day I brought you here, I thought this place would eat you up and spit you out. Now you¡¯re marrying one of the family. Has the other ward done well here?¡±

    Volithur barely remembered the day he had arrived at the estate. Certainly he couldn¡¯t recall if the man before him was the same pilot. ¡°Thassily got a girl from the city pregnant and they ended his wardship early. He¡¯s a rum distiller now.¡±

    ¡°Now that is a lifestyle upgrade I can envy,¡± the pilot said. ¡°Not that my job is all that bad. If you get tired of swinging a spear, you might consider piloting. It¡¯s not very hard, you just need to spend most of your downtime cultivating so you are always full enough on energy to fly.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Volithur said.

    He returned to the barracks, greeted his fellow soldiers, and joined them for dinner. Afterwards he cultivated for a while before climbing into his hammock, grateful to be home. It wasn¡¯t until about midnight that the peace was shattered by the Marshal yelling his name.

 Chapter 63

    ¡°How is it you cause such a headache in three days, Ward Harridan? Answer me that?¡±

    Volithur stood at attention before the irate Marshal. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°You asked a member of the family to marry you? That¡¯s the dumbest thing I¡¯ve ever heard. But then it gets worse. She actually agreed to your proposal. Her guardian consented.¡± The Marshal loomed over Volithur. ¡°How do you manage to make such a mess of things in three days? How do you even know this girl?¡±

    ¡°We were in class together.¡±

    ¡°A class where a commoner sits silent in the back.¡±

    ¡°We practiced calculations together in the library after class, Master Marshal.¡±

    The frightening man¡¯s fingers curled to make fists. ¡°You have been meeting unchaperoned with a young woman of the family? Ward Harridan, tell me truthfully, is she pregnant?¡±

    ¡°She is not, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°Do not lie to me. If you misrepresent this, I will hit you with a chaos bolt that makes you wish you were dead. Is she pregnant?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t possible, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°Wishful thinking and ignorant attempts at birth control will not impress me.¡±

    ¡°We have not had relations yet.¡±

    ¡°If I find out otherwise¡­.¡± The Marshal pushed Volithur roughly back into his room. ¡°You have made a mess of things, boy. Your shenanigans kept the team up all night and cost them a repeat of their victory. Master Lydia is out for your blood. The family council is debating whether or not to even allow this marriage to happen. A wedding is a lot cheaper than buying a real education, but they are not pleased with you and your presumptions.¡±

    He did not know what to think about that. On the one hand, he did like the idea of being with Khana. On the other hand¡­ he had a lot less to offer her than she knew. A political obstacle might be the best resolution to this mess that he could ask for. Khana wouldn¡¯t be caught in the fallout of his lies. He would be able to escape into obscurity¡­.

    The Marshal remained in the doorway, an immovable object. ¡°Here are my instructions for you, Ward Harridan. Do not meet with Khana in private. Any meetings are to be chaperoned, preferably by Master Rowan or myself. You are not to gossip of the matter.¡± He raised his voice loud enough to be heard by all the nearby soldiers who were no doubt listening intently. ¡°Nor will anyone else under my command gossip about the matter. This is family business and none of us wants to be implicated in it.¡±

    Volithur struggled to get back to sleep after the rude awakening. In the morning, he found himself facing a gauntlet in the intermediate skill class. He was forced to fight one soldier at a time while the rest watched from the sidelines, with a new one rotating in every time Instructor Lisbet decided he needed a fresh opponent.

    It was the first time since he¡¯d supercharged his lungs that he felt his cardio tested. He continuously gasped for air as he fended off punches, kicks, knees, elbows, trips, throws, and tackles. They didn¡¯t break from sparring to move into spear practice that day. Volithur had no doubt the Marshal had left explicit instructions to torment him. Hopefully his punishment would only last that single class.

    When Instructor Lisbet dismissed everyone at the normal time except for him, he knew that he wouldn¡¯t be forgiven so easily. She informed Volithur that the two of them would be doing an extra workout for the next week. Then she loaded backpacks with rocks and brought out weights that fit around the ankles of their standard issue boots.

    Thus encumbered, they began to hike along the inner edge of the wall surrounding the estate. Instructor Lisbet set an ambitious pace and forced him to constantly echo back motivational chants she would shout at him. ¡°Hard work, hard work, hard work! Gimme gimme hard work!¡±

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    His legs burned at first, then began to feel heavy like they had been filled with lead. As they approached the end of their first lap, Volithur grew hopeful that the exercise had reached its conclusion. It had not. They did four more laps, at the end of which Instructor Lisbet allowed Volithur to collapse.

    ¡°Since you are no longer attending classes in the palace, you will be attending the afternoon conditioning training with the rest of us, Ward Harridan. Hydrate and grab lunch.¡±

    He drank copious amounts of water, but found himself preferring to lay on the ground instead of eating bread. Back on the training field for the conditioning training, he managed to somehow not be last when they ran, nor did he give up during push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, box jumps, rope climbs, bear crawls, or bridge holds.

    His increased stamina proved a liability as he didn¡¯t feel he had a good excuse to stop at any point. He always had just a little bit of fuel left in his gas tank. Too much to justify flopping to the ground, at any rate. And his enhanced digestive system didn¡¯t easily escalate from ¡®upset stomach¡¯ to ¡®hurling up the last meal¡¯ like it once had.

    Volithur survived the workout, then retired to the barracks to rest. That was not to be, as the Sergeant sought him out. ¡°Ward Harridan, today you begin domain training.¡±

    ¡°Sergeant, I don¡¯t have much energy stored in my soul.¡±

    ¡°Then you will find the lesson more challenging than it would be otherwise. Now get your butt to the training field.¡±

    Once they were outside, the Sergeant set several rocks the size of a human fist between the two of them. ¡°These are our training aids. We will be extending energy through our domain apertures. Then we will form appendages within our area of influence and use them to move the rocks. It¡¯s a very simple technique, but there is a serious learning curve. Don¡¯t be surprised if you can¡¯t even find your target the first couple of times.¡±

    Volithur sighed dramatically as he pushed energy through the domain aperture of his soul. Despite his curiosity, he had always avoided performing any domain work due to the knowledge that it was extremely wasteful of cosmic energy. He had never been in a place where he could afford the expense. There was always a desperate need to level up his soul or enhance his body taking precedence over experimenting for the fun of it. Over time, he had developed a generally negative opinion of domains. He wasn¡¯t a natural at any of the Xian skills, with the exception of senses Khana claimed were superior than average.

    But he had been given an order and there was no benefit to disappointing one of his few allies on the estate. So Volithur slowly pushed out his domain, feeling the confusing feedback from the invisible sphere extending out from him in all directions. It created a noticeable drain on his energy reserves even in its passive state. Volithur estimated his soul would be completely empty in no more than fifteen minutes.

    Next up came forming the appendages. Volithur tried several times before he figured out how to concentrate energy into a dense cable, which shot his energy expenditure through the roof. He would be exhausted in maybe two minutes at this rate. The cable of energy had frayed threads leaking from every inch of its length, which was a far cry from the smooth creations he¡¯d observed from others.

    ¡°Very sloppy technique,¡± the Sergeant observed.

    Knowing he didn¡¯t have much time left, Volithur swiped a cable across the ground to slap the three rocks and send them flying.

    ¡°Now, don¡¯t be surprised if you can¡¯t¡­ oh.¡± The Sergeant blinked at the rocks as if confused by their movement. After a moment, smooth glowing cables extended from him and placed the rocks back in their starting positions. ¡°Not terrible for a first try, Ward Harridan. Try demonstrating a little more control, however. Lift one of the rocks straight into the air.¡±

    Volithur used the last of his energy to coil an energy appendage around the center rock and lift it up a single foot. Then his reserves failed and his domain guttered out. The rock fell back to its original spot. ¡°I¡¯m out of energy,¡± Volithur needlessly stated.

    The Sergeant stared at the rock. ¡°Well, that was not the complete disaster I expected it to be. You have superb accuracy and at the same time some of the worst appendage formation I have ever seen.¡±

    ¡°Khana says I am talented at sensory techniques,¡± Volithur said with a touch of pride.

    ¡°Your future wife,¡± the Sergeant noted.

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I¡¯m supposed to talk about that, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°Is it love?¡±

    Volithur nodded, not daring to put his tangled thoughts into words.

    The Sergeant shrugged. ¡°Though they like to think otherwise, nobles are no different than any other human. The members of the Shaocheth family conveniently forget that the Lord General himself was born a commoner. He only became a noble when he reached level ten and became a Lord. If you love the girl, Ward Harridan, and she loves you, then it is a good match.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sergeant.¡±

    ¡°I will be sure to let the Marshal know you have some talent for precision domain work. That may alleviate some of the pressure being placed on you. But now you need to cultivate to restore your energy reserves.¡±

 Chapter 64

    As Volithur cultivated in the barracks dining hall, struggling to restore some cosmic energy to his emptied soul space, Cook¡¯s Assistant Ava arrived for the dinner delivery. Caught up in his aura movements, Volithur barely noticed her appearance or when she set out the meal. It was only when she sat down across from him at his table that he came back to himself.

    The girl wore sadness like a glove. ¡°Everyone at the palace is talking about you.¡±

    Volithur sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised.¡±

    ¡°Marrying a noble. That¡¯s¡­ good for you, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been asked not to speak about it,¡± he said awkwardly.

    ¡°But you did ask? She did accept?¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°You lead a charmed life, Ward Harridan. I hope it all works out in your favor.¡± Before he could respond, Ava abruptly stood and left the room.

    Though the encounter introduced a worm of guilt to his heart, that was nothing compared to the sea of relief brought by knowing Ava¡¯s pursuit of him would end. He ate dinner with the soldiers, then showered and cultivated in his hammock until sleep came.

    The next several days played out similarly. Volithur did morning mobility training, followed by a gauntlet sparring session, a one-on-one session with Instructor Lisbet, a quick lunch, afternoon conditioning, a short domain training session, cultivation, dinner, evening cultivation, and sleep. Any ¡®free time¡¯ became ¡®cultivation time¡¯ by default.

    His efforts at taming the frayed appendages of his domain saw some small results, but that only upgraded his inefficiencies from ¡®absolutely atrocious¡¯ to ¡®very bad¡¯. More promising, not only had his accuracy in aiming his energy appendages improved further, he had even begun to develop what the Xian called ¡®extended touch sense¡¯. Basically, the feedback from his spherical domain let him detect things around him.

    The Sergeant, when not insulting his energy leaks, became almost excited about his progress. Volithur simultaneously resented the misuse of his cosmic energy reserves and thrilled at the discovery of a legitimate use of his sensory talent. He had always thought his singular gift in the Xian arts to be an ironic joke, but it seemed there was some utility to it after all.

    Not that precision control of an inefficient domain could be used to lift a transport vessel. He bled energy even when the glowing cables he formed weren¡¯t actively moving items. The second he picked up a rock, the leaks intensified many times over.

    But what his domain could do was guide him. The Sergeant took him on a couple of blindfolded walks, having him use his domain to sense his way around and through various obstacles, which Volithur did well enough that at one point the Sergeant couldn¡¯t hold back from exclaiming that Volithur was better than him at it. Apparently, Khana had not been giving him false praise when she complimented his abilities.

    As the days passed with him restricted to the barracks, Volithur began to feel a deep ache that had nothing to do with his sore muscles. Without their lessons in the library, he no longer interacted with Khana. Unable to attend class, he didn¡¯t even get to see her anymore. The girl he had fallen for no longer had a daily presence in his life.

    That absence brought other concerns. What if the family would not let them marry? They could send Khana away to the Evergreen Institute immediately to keep them apart. He might have already seen her for the last time. Or what if they convinced her not to follow through with their hasty plan? Such an outcome might be for the best, ultimately, but he found it less appealing the more he considered that course of events.

    Fortunately, a distraction came along before more than half his week of punishment had passed. The third daughter had returned to the estate, accompanied this time by her son, Master Corey. The soldiers learned of the fact at breakfast, where they were informed that the young noble would be joining them for sparring practice. The usual lecture was given on how to properly lose to the noble while going all-out against other opponents to make it look like they were dangerous savages who just happened to be inferior to their visiting master.

    The soldiers took the news as well as they could, though that likely had more to do with the Sergeant¡¯s stern presence than their own stoic resolve. They got into formation in preparation for whatever direction the morning activities would take. Quite often the normal schedule of events would be overturned by the whims of important guests.

    Master Corey arrived in the company of the Marshal. He was a short, handsome man several years Volithur¡¯s senior who had an easy smile. Volithur didn¡¯t let down his guard at the sign of good humor, cautious that the carefree attitude might be a prelude to throwing his authority around.

    But then the unthinkable happened. Master Corey bowed to the Sergeant and asked to join the class. For a moment, the Sergeant seemed caught off guard. He bowed back, making an effort to exceed the steepness of the noble¡¯s deep bow, and stated that he would be honored.

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    And so morning mobility class went on as normal. Master Corey followed along with everything they did as if he were just another soldier. He didn¡¯t complain, he didn¡¯t try to slack off, he didn¡¯t even joke around with his neighbors.

    When they reached the point where they broke into groups, the Sergeant hesitated. ¡°Master Corey, we normally spar at this time.¡±

    ¡°Please do everything as normal, Sergeant. Forget I am even here.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Master Corey,¡± the Sergeant sputtered, apparently at a loss for how to respond to a request for a noble to be forgotten. ¡°We split into three skill levels for sparring. Which would you prefer to join?¡±

    ¡°I would like to work with Ward Harridan, if that is possible,¡± Master Corey said.

    ¡°Please join Ward Harridan in the intermediate group then, Master Corey.¡±

    Volithur held in his groan as they separated into their normal places. Instructor Lisbet collected Master Corey and brought him over. The whole time, Volithur wondered how he had been dragged into this latest mess. Had all the talk in the palace about his marriage attempt encouraged this man to attempt to mete out some justice? Or, even worse, had Master Dorian related tales of beating up a useless ward to one of his friends?

    ¡°This here is Ward Harridan,¡± Instructor Lisbet said.

    Master Corey clasped hands with him. ¡°It¡¯s good to meet you, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine, Master Corey.¡±

    Instructor Lisbet told them to begin their sparring, and Volithur lowered into a stable stance. Master Corey threw a few punches, then ducked a return blow, raked his knuckles across Volithur¡¯s middle in a simulation of a hook to the body, pivoted to gain a superior angle, seized a rear body lock, and stepped in to perform a hip throw. Master Corey caught him before he hit the ground and returned him to his feet before stepping back into his stance.

    It was perhaps the most graceful defeat Volithur had ever suffered. It had been all technique and care had been taken to avoid injuring him. Over the year and a half that Volithur had been living in the barracks, he had learned to read people through their approach to sparring. Some men fought dirty by default, showing their lack of restraint when pursuing a goal. Others strictly followed a rule of balance, giving back the same level of intensity they received from their partner. What he sensed from Master Corey was fairly rare in this environment. The noble appeared to be a genuinely nice person. His earlier humility did not appear to be an act.

    As they continued their spar, Master Corey continued to catch Volithur off guard. The highly technical experience proved helpful to Volithur. More so than the usual slug fests he engaged in. Caught up in their competition, he complimented Master Corey on his skill.

    ¡°I was never given much choice on whether I would become good at fighting,¡± Master Corey laughed. ¡°You seem to have potential yourself.¡±

    ¡°You are too kind, Master Corey.¡±

    ¡°I wonder, Ward Harridan, if I could ask you some questions?¡±

    The wide smile on Volithur¡¯s face grew strained. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°I understand you were given an education in the palace. Did you have much interaction with Rolanda? And if so, could I have your honest opinion of her?¡±

    Volithur blinked. Rolanda? The first thing to come to mind was the fact that she was ridiculously beautiful. But saying that aloud seemed like it might be disloyal to Khana and just generally inappropriate given his standing. Besides, the question obviously wasn¡¯t about something as obvious as appearance. ¡°I never interacted much with Master Rolanda.¡±

    The young man¡¯s excitement deflated a bit, prompting Volithur to throw out something. ¡°However, Khana has told me a bit about her. Rolanda is a kind and gentle person.¡±

    ¡°Is that in line with your experience of her? Is she kind and gentle?¡±

    Volithur remembered the time Master Dorian had beaten him as he fled the class. Rolanda had appeared on the verge of rushing to his aid, despite her weak cultivation level. ¡°I would say that the assessment is accurate.¡±

    A bright smile bloomed on Master Corey¡¯s face. ¡°That is good to hear. Many noble women tend to abuse their position. It¡¯s quite off-putting in a potential match. Say, Ward Harridan, as one who has recently become engaged, do you have any words of advice on courting a woman?¡±

    Volithur had to choke back a laugh at the thought of a noble man asking him of all people for advice on talking to girls. ¡°I think you should just be yourself, Master Corey. I probably should not repeat this¡­ but Rolanda has said that she could never marry a cruel man. Once she sees how well you treat people beneath you, I think you will have an easy time courting her.¡±

    Master Corey reached out to clasp hands with him. ¡°You have no idea how helpful this has been, Ward Harridan. I hope to have as much fortune in love as you.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully more,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Come now, my friend. You have a beautiful woman promised to be your bride.¡±

    ¡°It hasn¡¯t been decided if our marriage will be permitted yet.¡±

    The young man grew outraged. ¡°What? They¡¯re delaying approval of such a simple matter? Why kick up a fuss if a disinherited girl wishes to marry a commoner? These kinds of attitudes are ridiculous, especially in an auxiliary household. I mean no offense by that.¡± Master Corey squeezed his hand hard. ¡°You will have your approval by tomorrow, Ward Harridan.¡±

 Chapter 65

    After being seen to be chummy with Master Corey, Volithur found himself released from the extra exercise session following lunch. The Sergeant instructed him to cultivate inside the barracks at the conclusion of sparring, a command which Volithur eagerly obeyed. No one openly asked what his conversation with the noble had been about, but plenty of eyes followed his every move that day.

    The next morning, the Marshal collected him after breakfast to have a meeting with the family council. ¡°Before we get there,¡± the Marshal said, ¡°I think it important for you to remember that Master Zara and Master Corey will be leaving soon. Do not poison the well to gain a momentary victory.¡±

    As he walked beside and slightly behind the Marshal, Volithur thought on the advice. ¡°Is this meeting to approve my marriage?¡±

    ¡°I think you know that it is. Be respectful and don¡¯t speak unless requested. Do not complain and definitely do not argue.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°You cause me so many headaches, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m genuinely sorry, Master Marshal.¡±

    They went all the way to the third floor of the palace, where they were told to wait outside a large conference room with walls of glass to give it a clear view of the exterior. Through the open doors, they could hear the sounds of an ongoing meeting. It seemed to be the Castellan presenting business to prominent members of the fifth household, then receiving approvals or denials. Occasionally there would be debates among the nobles.

    The business in question seemed mostly around the schedule for using the cosmic chamber and distribution of resources. The Castellan occasionally brought up budgetary items, but anything dealing with normal currency instead of resources received an instant rubber stamp.

    Finally, the Castellan announced that they would bring a marriage request up for review. The Marshal seized Volithur¡¯s arm and dragged him through the open doors, stopping his progress just inside the room. ¡°I, Marshal Lethevar, represent the prospective groom. He is Harridan, a ward of the Lord General placed in my care.¡±

    A familiar form at the table stood. ¡°I, Rowan Shaocheth, represent the prospective bride. She is Khana, the daughter of my sister and a descendant of the Lord General.¡±

    In one of the corners of the room that held observers, Khana stood from her chair and raised her hands in a subtle wave at him. Volithur smiled back, suddenly happier than he had been in days.

    The Castellan resumed his duties. ¡°The prospective groom wishes to marry?¡±

    ¡°I do, Master Castellan,¡± Volithur managed to squeak out.

    ¡°And the prospective bride wishes to marry?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Khana said clearly.

    ¡°And what do the members of the family council say?¡±

    ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be allowed,¡± came the vicious words of Lydia. Volithur spotted her at the long table, where she glared at him with a self-pleased expression.

    ¡°There is no reason to prevent a marriage,¡± Master Rowan insisted. ¡°Khana is disinherited already. No scandal exists. This will even save the household conventional funds.¡±

    ¡°He was responsible for us losing the academic competition. He shouldn¡¯t be rewarded.¡±

    As one, the other members of the council turned to one of the corners as if awaiting something. With a sigh, a woman there with a level nine soul stood. She had platinum hair in a short cut that framed hawkish features. Her piercing gaze swept the room, causing anyone who met it to freeze and look downwards meekly. She displaced the Castellan to stand at the head of the table.

    ¡°I don¡¯t prefer to interfere in the self-governance of the auxiliary households. But in this case, I believe there is an important matter to be addressed. Why is there a child on the family council?¡±

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    No one spoke. Volithur found great joy in seeing Lydia go pale at the question.

    Master Zara scowled. ¡°Everyone remains silent? Then you stand and speak, child. Justify your presence here. That was a command.¡±

    A quivering Lydia rose to her feet. ¡°I am sorry, Senior Zara.¡±

    ¡°You are sorry? That is an apology, not a justification. Why are you here?¡±

    The Castellan bowed and interjected when the girl could not respond. ¡°Master Zara, the girl is not on the family council. She comes to observe.¡±

    ¡°She sits at the table. She voices opinions. Child, I demand you justify your presence.¡±

    Lydia, tears running down her cheeks, could only apologize once more.

    ¡°You have no justification. Children have no place here. Lydia, you are to leave this room and never return until you reach your majority. The adults in this room should heed my advice well. Do not allow any child, no matter how promising you think their meager talents, take a position of leadership in the household.¡± Master Zara skewered everyone at the table with her fierce gaze before retreating back to her chair. Just before she sat, she issued a crisp order. ¡°Continue.¡±

    The Castellan cleared his throat. ¡°Are there any objections to the marriage?¡±

    Silence. ¡°Then approval is given. Congratulations, Khana and Harridan. Master Rowan, do you have a timeline for the wedding celebration?¡±

    Master Rowan stood once more. ¡°I would like to hold it on the day of her majority. That is a little over one month away.¡±

    ¡°Does anyone object?¡± Silence met the Castellan¡¯s question. ¡°Approved. Is this sufficient, Master Rowan, Marshal?¡±

    When both men agreed, the Castellan pronounced that item of business complete. The Marshal pulled Volithur back out the door. ¡°You are free until lunch, Ward Harridan. Don¡¯t cause me any further headaches.¡± Then the Marshal entered the room and moved to stand near the Castellan.

    Volithur¡¯s fascination with the proceedings vanished as Khana jumped through the door and embraced him hard enough to take his breath away. ¡°You have no idea how much I missed you,¡± Khana said. He brushed a stray hair away to tuck behind her ear. ¡°I couldn¡¯t wait to see you again.¡±

    The voice of Master Zara echoed out into the hall. ¡°I hope I do not need to give a lecture on the inappropriateness of public expressions of affection.¡±

    They both turned to stare back through the door, where every head had turned their way. Master Zara wore a small smirk, but the Marshal had slapped his hand over his face in despair. Khana pulled him into a fast run away from the disapproving adults.

    Their path to escape ended in the library where they had spent so much time together. Khana spun on him when they were alone once more. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you swayed Senior Corey to champion your cause.¡±

    Volithur took her hand. ¡°Khana, I never asked you to marry me.¡±

    She winced. ¡°I know. I thought you might, though, and we needed an excuse in the moment.¡±

    ¡°I want to. Marry you, I mean. I want you to be my wife.¡±

    He didn¡¯t get out any more words before Khana pounced on him. They almost repeated the events of the night they had been caught, but something in Volithur¡¯s brain warned him that ravishing a noble girl on the library table could cause the Marshal a bit of a headache. Khana seemed to realize that as well, because she didn¡¯t object when he pulled back.

    ¡°I am so happy Senior Corey intervened,¡± she said.

    ¡°I know how we can repay his kindness,¡± Volithur said. ¡°Tell Rolanda what he did for us.¡±

    ¡°I think everyone in the palace already knows about that.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Maybe tell Rolanda that he sparred really gently with me?¡±

    Khana laughed. ¡°Senior Corey doesn¡¯t need our assistance. Rolanda may not be overly clever, but she understands her circumstances well enough. The third daughter is the most influential of the Lord General¡¯s children. So long as Corey doesn¡¯t make a complete ass of himself, he will have an easy courtship. From what little I have seen, they appear well matched. Attractive and charitable and a touch naive.¡±

    ¡°I wonder what people say about us as a match?¡±

    ¡°Nothing nice, I would imagine. Two troublemakers shaming the estate. It doesn¡¯t matter. We won¡¯t be here for much longer.¡±

    ¡°Khana? What if the Lord General doesn¡¯t make me a footman? It was a casual conversation from years ago. He might not even remember it.¡±

    ¡°Then we find our own way to Tian.¡± Her voice was filled with such certainty that Volithur almost believed they had the ability to forge their own destiny. The truth, of course, was that neither of them possessed much talent and would go nowhere without the resources a noble family could provide. He wasn¡¯t even sure they would be better off on the Xian home world if they arrived without connections of any kind.

    As they slowly gravitated closer towards one another in a way that would no doubt cause problems should they be caught, strident screams erupted from deeper in the palace.

 Chapter 66

    They joined a ring of onlookers at its outer rim. At the center of the ring, a man in a cook¡¯s uniform knelt cradling several severed digits in his good hand, the other a bleeding mess. On the ground beside him a frail form lay still in death, a cleaver embedded in her skull so that her face wore a red mask.

    Others in the crowd shared what they had seen, eager for the spotlight sharing gossip gave them. ¡°The cook¡¯s assistant went crazy and sliced the cook¡¯s hand.¡± ¡°He took the cleaver from her and turned the situation around.¡± ¡°This is terrible timing for kitchen shenanigans, with the third daughter in residence.¡± ¡°Commoners shouldn¡¯t be trusted with weapons in the palace.¡±

    Beside him, Khana huffed in annoyance. ¡°The fifth household can¡¯t do anything right.¡±

    Volithur stared at the body. He couldn¡¯t be certain, but he suspected he knew which cook¡¯s assistant lay there. He¡¯d never known exactly what was happening, but there was a reason everyone assumed Ava had been chasing after a ward receiving soldier training. Volithur suspected the cook deserved far worse than the loss of his fingers. He didn¡¯t say anything that would draw attention to himself, though. That wasn¡¯t his place as a commoner. In truth, he shouldn¡¯t even be standing among the noble family members like he was, but he wanted to know the details.

    From what he could piece together, Ava ran after the head cook with a cleaver, screaming like she was possessed. The cook had lost fingers when he raised a hand in defense. Then he gained the cleaver in a struggle and ended the life of the assistant. It seemed that the nobles expected the head cook to be let go now that he¡¯d been maimed, so at least Ava would posthumously ruin his fortunes.

    Khana pulled him away from the area as the family council descended the stairway to investigate the disturbance. The two of them escaped out of the palace to stroll aimlessly across the lawn. ¡°On a more positive topic,¡± she said, ¡°we have four weeks and three days until our wedding.¡±

    Volithur put thoughts of Ava away. He was never responsible for saving her. He could barely manage his own affairs. ¡°I don¡¯t know the wedding customs here. Do I need to buy a ring or something?¡±

    ¡°A ring? Your first world must be a strange mix of Jinn technology and Arahant traditions. Dress nicely on the day of the ceremony, say ¡®I marry Khana¡¯, and sign the marriage agreement. If we¡¯re lucky, the family will have a banquet after. I¡¯m not optimistic on that count. They at least must grant us both a place at the palace dinner that night. Maybe even a toast in our honor.¡±

    ¡°So I don¡¯t really have to prepare for the wedding.¡±

    ¡°I do expect you to look presentable. A proper hair cut would do wonders.¡±

    Volithur reached a hand to his head. The soldiers gave each other cuts with a pair of rusty tailor¡¯s shears. None of them could be said to have any talent at hairdressing, but they didn¡¯t charge for their services. ¡°I don¡¯t have any money.¡±

    ¡°Maybe my uncle can get me an advance on the housing funds.¡±

    He winced at that. ¡°If they do give us money to live in the city, won¡¯t we need to be careful with how we spend it?¡±

    Khana laughed. ¡°Uncle Rowan wants to set us up for an entire year. Your wardship will end in half that time. We will be on Tian well before we can run out of funds.¡±

    ¡°Khana¡­ I don¡¯t think the Lord General will actually send for me.¡±

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    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to remind him of your existence,¡± Khana said. ¡°I¡¯ll send him a wedding invitation through Master Zara.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s heart lurched. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea. He¡¯s an important person¡­.¡±

    ¡°It will be fine. He never attends celebrations at the auxiliary households. When my mother married, the Lord General sent a gift instead of attending. Though she was part of the second household, so we shouldn¡¯t expect the same. It will still be good to remind him that ¡®Ward Harridan¡¯ exists.¡±

    Volithur almost told her the truth of the matter then. Fear of how she might react stopped him. Their marriage seemed inevitable at this point, but his future wife could enter their union with grudging acceptance as easily as joy. He didn¡¯t see her taking the news well. There might be love, but there was also a fair bit of unfounded optimism for their future prospects.

    ¡°I need to get started on the invitation. My calligraphy skills will be sorely tested.¡± Khana pulled him into a quick kiss and strolled back towards the palace before he could formulate an argument against her chosen course of action.

    Before he reached the barracks, he convinced himself that he had nothing to worry about. The third daughter might not even agree to carry the invitation to her father. If she did, he probably wouldn¡¯t read it. Even in the unlikely scenario that he received and read the invitation, it would surely be beneath the mighty Lord General to retaliate against a commoner.

    He placed himself in the dining hall to cultivate until lunch. An hour later, the room full of angry soldiers, it became evident that their noon delivery of bread would not be arriving. Volithur sighed and sought out the Sergeant to explain the situation with the head cook. Which led to the Sergeant sending Instructor Gordo into the city for a bread run. Which meant the slush fund used for the occasional cask of rum had been raided for a less than ideal purpose.

    Dinner that day was a burnt and bland potato stew, but at least it arrived on time. The Marshal didn¡¯t arrive to discipline Volithur, Master Corey did not return to class, and no one seemed to remember Volithur was being punished. He no longer received the full attention of his class in sparring nor had to attend private training with Instructor Lisbet. Other than the fact that he no longer had a free pass to skip afternoon conditioning because of classes in the palace, things had largely reverted to how they were in the past.

    Volithur exercised, sparred, cultivated, slept, and took regular meals in the barracks. The Sergeant was too busy to spare time for their domain lessons, which gave Volithur an opportunity to resume his interrupted body enhancement. He had just started enhancing his leg muscles before he left for the fateful academic competition. Since his return, the domain exercises had stolen every bit of energy he had to spare, making it impossible for him to enhance himself.

    The plan he had cobbled together from numerous manuals attacked the hamstring muscles next. They not only bent the knee, but also extended and rotated the hip. Various authors prioritized hamstring enhancement over the quads because the backs of the leg tended to be underdeveloped. The comparatively stronger quads would thus be better equipped to counter the tension of an enhanced hamstring than if the order of enhancement were reversed.

    While he could have started with the lower leg like many authors advised, Volithur preferred to see the performance gains of strengthening the prime movers over the purported benefits of having more stable feet. The truth was, he would not have ¡®more stable¡¯ feet while he was enhancing his legs. The complex task of human locomotion would be drastically complicated when some of his muscle fibers became multiple times stronger than others. In other words, he would become very clumsy once he sufficiently enhanced a major muscle group.

    Volithur had experienced only a slight preview of his upcoming trials when he enhanced his glutes. He had occasionally stumbled before getting used to the differences. The other stabilizer muscles had not caused any dramatic change since they were smaller muscles and more involved in maintaining proper posture and joint socket positioning than movement.

    He did not look forward to sparring sessions while his coordination was impaired. His training partners didn¡¯t know what ¡®going easy¡¯ meant. Then after he finished every muscle in his body, it would only get worse. The manuals all agreed that the adaptation period following nervous system enhancement brought with it serious challenges. Apparently increasing the speed of nerve transmission at the same time as improving every physical sense required relearning how to do something as basic as walking.

 Chapter 67

    Hector turned away from the potent blast of dog breath that greeted his return to consciousness. He scratched Jasmine behind the ear as he considered the next fumbling steps intended to save the world. They had managed to contact Professor Rahman and were going on a bit of a road trip to meet the man. That meant six hours in a car with Evelyn and Jeremy, followed by ambushing an educator who thought they wanted to talk about technology.

    Pushing the self doubt from his mind, he set about preparing for the day. First came a quick run around his neighborhood, followed by a quick shower. Hector then began to pack an overnight bag, bumping into Buster and Jasmine with every step. He double-checked he had everything he might need and almost ran into Jen when he turned around.

    ¡°Oh, hey. I¡¯ll be gone for a day or two.¡±

    Jen¡¯s arms were folded and she stared off to the side. ¡°I want to keep living here if we divorce.¡±

    Hector paused his escape attempt. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ve given up on getting back together?¡±

    ¡°You have obviously moved on, so I don¡¯t see any reason to hope.¡±

    He pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Look, Jen, I have a lot going on right now. I don¡¯t have time to find another place to stay. Can we worry about divorce stuff later?¡±

    ¡°You know, Hector, I feel sorry for this girl. She thinks you are going to make her feel a certain way and the truth is all you have to offer is neglect and loneliness.¡±

    Hector forced his eyes away from the clock. As critical as his mission to meet with Rahman might be, he did owe something to the woman before him. ¡°You were the one and only Mrs. Thoreaux. I am too old and jaded to believe I can change my stripes. I have not and will not promise Evelyn a future. I wouldn¡¯t even want that with her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving up the house.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to share space for a while.¡±

    Jen nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t want you bringing her around.¡±

    ¡°And I didn¡¯t want dogs in my house, but here we are.¡± He patted Jasmine on the ribs, causing her tail to begin thumping the wall.

    ¡°So what now?¡±

    ¡°I need to go on my trip.¡±

    ¡°I mean with the divorce. Do we need lawyers?¡±

    ¡°Only if you want a third party to get a cut of the marital assets. Despite how things turned out between us, we¡¯re both reasonable people. I think we can split things up fairly on our own. It¡¯s a conversation for later, though.¡±

    ¡°Just like old times. I get two minutes to talk and you¡¯re off to the next thing.¡±

    Hector stepped past her into the hall. ¡°I wish I could have changed for you.¡±

    ¡°Me too.¡±

    A while later, he was on the road with his co-conspirators.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just drop ¡®the world is ending¡¯ on this guy like you did to me,¡± Jeremy insisted.

    Hector kept both eyes on the road as the debate between his two passengers continued. The youth of Jeremy and Evelyn made him feel like he was the chaperon for two kids. It wasn¡¯t a great feeling, considering he was dating one of them. He¡¯d remained withdrawn for much of the drive due to the weight of his conversation with Jen.

    The divorce was actually going to happen. Even though he wanted out of the marriage and had even moved on to the next women already, it still stung. The fact that he would soon be witnessing Volithur¡¯s wedding twisted the emotional knife buried in his heart. He didn¡¯t know what he wanted to see happen to his dream counterpart. A happy marriage would make his own situation more painful in contrast. A broken one would add to his own bitterness.

    ¡°Are you the Sage of Foresight?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Jeremy countered, ¡°but neither are you.¡±

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    Hector glanced at the navigation screen. ¡°Five minutes away.¡±

    ¡°Just let me do the talking,¡± Evelyn insisted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I came along for the ride,¡± Jeremy muttered in complaint.

    Their destination proved to be a small suburban house next to a large detached garage. Hector parked beside the garage and they lined up in front of the door. It took knocking at least a dozen times before the door opened. The Indian man from the videos squinted at them. ¡°Hey there, you guys said you have plans for a fusion reactor?¡±

    ¡°Aneutronic fusion reactor,¡± Jeremy clarified.

    Professor Rahman glanced pointedly at their empty hands. ¡°Right. So where are the plans?¡±

    ¡°In my head,¡± Jeremy said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I can¡¯t put out an episode based on your recollections. I need to see blueprints, equations, and a write-up in plain language. Otherwise, you are wasting my time.¡±

    Jeremy looked towards Evelyn. ¡°You¡¯re up.¡±

    Evelyn squeezed Hector¡¯s hand hard in panic. He sighed. ¡°Jeremy is capable of the fusion thing, but that was just a pretext to start a conversation. Evie has the memories and insights of the Sage of Foresight. She is predicting a massive monster invasion in the near future that could be the end of human life on this planet. Your automated factory idea seems like it has the potential to help the hopeless situation a little. So are you interested in saving the world or did we drive six hours for nothing?¡±

    Professor Rahman squinted at Evelyn. ¡°Sage. That¡¯s an Arahant thing, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said.

    ¡°Can you actually prove you see the future or is this something I need to take on faith?¡±

    ¡°I glimpse potential futures. It¡¯s not easy to demonstrate.¡±

    ¡°Surely you have some control over the futures you view,¡± Rahman said.

    ¡°I set an intention and see a potential that resonates with that. The visions arrive without any context, though. It will only be really useful if I can get stronger.¡±

    ¡°Can you look into the future and tell me the password?¡±

    Evelyn hunched her shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s possible.¡±

    Rahman pulled out his cell phone and tapped on it a few times. ¡°I have decided on a password that will get you into my garage for a longer conversation if you can guess it. I will tell you that phrase in five minutes and ask you to leave. If I¡¯ve understood your ability correctly, there is a future timeline established where I tell you the information I desire. Tell me the password.¡±

    Evelyn let go of Hector¡¯s hand and crouched down to sit on hands and knees in the gravel driveway. Her eyes squinted shut and she remained silent for over a minute. When she opened her eyes, she stood. ¡°Three two seven seven one five.¡±

    Rahman glanced at his phone and held it up. ¡°That is correct. Very impressive. I did not in fact decide on a password. I generated a random password using an app without looking at it ¨C to ensure I could distinguish between mind reading and future vision.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s smart,¡± Jeremy said.

    ¡°I thought so. Come on in, guys.¡± Rahman led them into the garage, which was divided into three distinct sections. There was the set for the videos he recorded, which looked exactly as it did online. Then there was a mess of parts and machinery. And finally a couple of dilapidated couches near a fridge, empty beer cans filling a strategically placed recycling bin.

    They were led to the couches. ¡°How do these monsters destroy the world?¡±

    For several minutes, Evelyn described her visions. The giant scorpion slicing an aircraft carrier in half, the Minotaur smashing cars, the spiders spearing people with their pointy legs. Rahman listened, enraptured, as the horrifying future was described to him. When Evelyn fell silent, he asked a single question.

    ¡°What do you think I can do better than the military?¡±

    Evelyn shrugged. ¡°I mean¡­ build protectors in your automated factory?¡±

    ¡°The automated factory won¡¯t exist for at least two years. But say I could start it up tomorrow. How would any machines I built succeed where an aircraft carrier failed? Those don¡¯t travel alone. It would be part of an entire fleet.¡±

    Hector cleared his throat. ¡°Because you would use Jinn technology?¡±

    ¡°Technology relies upon order to function. It becomes useless around creatures of chaos unless it is tied to a powerful soul. No Jinn on Earth is going to be able to overrule chaotic miasma with a causal imperative. Even if I could churn out a million drones and equip them with state of the art weaponry, they would only delay the inevitable.¡±

    ¡°Fuck me,¡± Evelyn muttered.

    Rahman shrugged. ¡°I am sorry to ruin your hopes, but I think it is always best to work with facts. Your plan is not realistic.¡± When the mood seemed to be as bad as it could get, the man continued. ¡°We cannot directly fight the monsters. However, that does not mean we shouldn¡¯t take action. My role is that of an educator. I think my next video will be about what to do in case of a monster attack. The subject has certainly garnered enough attention to justify a video. Everyone wants to know if monsters will come to Earth. I will outline a rough plan for normal people to use in case of a monster attack, then challenge my fellow content creators to come up with plans.

    ¡°I understand this may not be what you wanted from me, but this is the kind of help I am able to give. I would be happy to accept your collaboration on the video.¡±

 Chapter 68

    Volithur lost all semblance of coordination once he completed enhancement of his hamstrings. His tailbone had become permanently tucked and the fronts of his hips ached from fighting the tension. The situation made walking painful and effective fighting impossible. He took a lot of damage during weaponless combat training before Instructor Lisbet pulled him aside several days into the experience.

    When she learned that the reason for his performance had to do with body enhancement and not distraction over his engagement, Instructor Lisbet dismissed him for one week to fix his issues. She didn¡¯t have much sympathy for him, but she did express concern that he would gain bad movement habits if he trained too much with compromised hips.

    The time freed up went directly towards fixing his issue. He abandoned the body enhancement manuals he had previously been basing his plans on and found another that was more suitable for someone with tight hamstrings ¨C which, apparently, was him. He couldn¡¯t directly follow the manual since he had done hamstrings too soon, but he cobbled together a new plan based on the insights he gained into functional anatomy.

    His first priority was the iliopsoas muscles along the front of the hips. Then he could tackle the quadratus lumborum along the lower back. Then he could attack the quads, starting with the rectus femoris. Driven to alleviate his issues, Volithur¡¯s progress was rapid, but it initially exacerbated the problem more than it helped. The muscles of the human body did not function well with the types of imbalances he had introduced. He didn¡¯t have an entirely accurate measure of his body enhancement results, but he estimated he tripled the strength of any muscle he targeted.

    When the clerk delivered Volithur¡¯s weekly tea powder elixir, he finished the iliopsoas in a single session. That instantly relieved most of the strain he had felt. Volithur no longer had trouble standing, walking, or moving. He did, however, feel a constant ache in his quads from the extra work they were being forced to do.

    All of the drama of his muscles made Hector wonder if the flood method might be superior to the cold forged method of body enhancement. It might require more resources, but at least its practitioners would be fully functional as every part of the body grew in strength proportionally.

    Still, the unexpected problems he encountered helped to keep him from stressing overly much about his upcoming nuptials. Volithur on occasion would begin to panic when he thought about the wedding ceremony. He didn¡¯t feel comfortable being the center of attention, didn¡¯t trust the nobles to not mess with him, and couldn¡¯t help but worry Khana would change her mind.

    He managed to get an evening pass to visit Thassily by asking on a day the Sergeant seemed favorably disposed. Volithur eagerly sought out his friend, who engulfed him in a bear hug and spun him around while laughing. The two of them chatted over glasses of spiced rum while Thassily told a horror story of soiled diapers, interrupted sleep, and competition for breast suckling.

    ¡°Please tell me you¡¯re not drinking milk from your wife. That¡¯s just a joke, right?¡±

    Thassily only laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t kink shame, Harridan.¡±

    ¡°What is it like being married?¡±

    ¡°Wonderful, horrible, and everything in between, my friend.¡± Thassily scratched his neck as he pondered his words. ¡°I would much rather live the life I had planned back home. This, though¡­ it¡¯s better than being a lowly soldier under a war hungry noble. Still. I work one job in the day. Then labor in the distillery in the evening. Then deal with a wife and child when I¡¯m thoroughly exhausted. I should still be doing kid stuff, Harridan. Spending time in the arcade with my friends, watching that ¡®Space Adventures¡¯ show on television, dating lots of girls. That¡¯s the life I want. This is just the best I can do here. I need to keep reminding myself that every other option is worse. Enough of my complaining, though. How are you doing?¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Volithur sighed. ¡°I love her. I¡¯m just not sure marrying a noble is smart.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely not smart. You should have knocked up a commoner to get away from nobles, not become in-laws with them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve done a lot of body enhancement. They advanced me to the intermediate skill group.¡±

    ¡°Way to go, Harridan! Nobody thought you had any talent, but you¡¯re proving us all wrong.¡±

    ¡°Only by lying,¡± Volithur muttered.

    ¡°It¡¯s one tiny lie,¡± Thassily shot back.

    Volithur snorted. ¡°I can tell that you¡¯ve been away from the fifth household for a while. Anything said about the Lord General is serious. He¡¯s like a god to them and I¡¯m claiming I have his favor. It¡¯s a huge deal. Khana thinks marrying me is going to elevate her status.¡±

    Thassily glared at him. ¡°Don¡¯t ever speak your schemes out loud, Harridan. I know the risk you took and I think it paid off. You¡¯ll slowly be forgotten over the next few years and then you¡¯ve gotten away with it. They will probably keep you on as a soldier, either in house or pass you off to the city militia. Khana might resent her reduced status in years to come, but if you set yourself up properly with her dowry you will live better than most around here. Now, enough serious talk. Your best friend is a distiller, so take advantage of the fact and drink up.¡±

    Volithur went back to the barracks with a tiny barrel to share with the soldiers. They drank the barrel dry, alternating between toasting his upcoming marriage and lamenting that he couldn¡¯t carry a bigger barrel. The easy, shallow camaraderie somehow made him feel more lonely than usual. It was like they were all playing parts in a theater production rather than authentically interacting.

    The day after visiting with Thassily, Volithur received a visit from Master Corey during breakfast. The Sergeant gave Volithur a nod as the rest of the soldiers left for morning training, tacit permission to be late.

    ¡°Rolanda accepted my proposal, Ward Harridan,¡±an effervescent Corey told him when they were alone. ¡°I wanted to thank you for your assistance. My beloved tells me that you have never spoken to her in person for so long as you have known her, but passed a message through Khana praising my good qualities. Much as I¡¯d like to think myself charming enough to succeed on my own efforts, the aid of a loyal ally should always be rewarded.¡± Master Corey pulled a vial that Volithur recognized to contain blood boiling elixir.

    Volithur stared at the vial. ¡°Master Corey, I did not speak on your behalf because I sought rewards. You got the family to approve my marriage. That is a greater kindness than I can ever hope to repay.¡±

    The older boy smiled. ¡°Ward Harridan, as a son of the third child of Thrakkar Shaocheth I have all the cultivation resources I could ever need. If we were at the main household, I would place a silver plasma elixir in your hands. Here the best reward I can give is cold tea water mixed with botanical extracts.

    ¡°My kindnesses may have been larger than your own, but my means are also far beyond yours. I want you to accept this elixir as a token of friendship. The fates know you need to take every advantage while you can. Soon enough someone with more authority than sense will come along and undo my mother¡¯s policies. She always intends to keep a close eye on the auxiliary households, but she is exceptionally busy running the Lord General¡¯s commercial enterprises.¡±

    Volithur took the vial and bowed. ¡°Thank you, Master Corey.¡±

    Once Corey took his leave, Volithur drank the elixir and went outside for the morning exercises. He had only missed the warm-up and soon was sweating. The blood boiling elixir burned inside him and Volithur absorbed the cosmic energy into his soul and redirected it roughly towards the quadratus lumborum muscles of his lower back. He didn¡¯t have the ability to finely manage the process while in the middle of a workout, but so much of his body tissues were already enhanced that the inefficiencies weren¡¯t terrible. Any organ already brought up to the full saturation of his current soul level was incapable of absorbing more, so it couldn¡¯t ¡®steal¡¯ energy intended for elsewhere.

    He made it through sparring without event, the lingering strength of the elixir countering the muscle instabilities still plaguing him. Then he went to cultivate by himself. There were only two weeks to go before he would be a married man.

 Chapter 69

    Those two weeks seemed to take forever. Volithur cultivated like mad, trying to distract himself from the worries in his head. The soldiers joked with him about his upcoming marriage, but otherwise he heard nothing about it. No one in a position of authority said or did anything to confirm that the ceremony would still take place. Khana never came to see him in the barracks and he didn¡¯t dare sneak into the main building in search of her.

    Fortunately, he received his weekly tea powder elixirs. That gave him the energy he needed to power through hours of body enhancement. He managed to complete his lower back and the rectus femoris of his quad muscles. That returned a significant portion of his athleticism to him. There was still a tendency for his knees to bend too easily, given the mismatch between the fronts and backs of his legs, but Volithur managed to account for that with a little effort.

    His fellow trainees took it somewhat easy on him in sparring, making wisecracks about him needing to look pretty for his big day or his noble bride might change her mind. Their words caused him more anxiety than an elbow to the nose ever could have. Volithur¡¯s stress came to a head the day before his wedding. Neither the Marshal nor the Sergeant had said anything to him about what would be expected of him.

    So Volithur spoke to the clerk on duty. ¡°Uh, Master Clerk? What is the plan for tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow? It¡¯s a normal day, so far as I¡¯m aware.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what time am I supposed to be there? Or where there is, even?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re talking about, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°My wedding to Khana.¡±

    The clerk blinked. ¡°Oh. I forgot about your situation. I¡¯m sure the family will send for you when the time comes to sign the certificate in the administrative offices. Disinherited nobles don¡¯t get big celebrations for marrying below their station, after all.¡±

    Ego thoroughly deflated, Volithur went to bed thinking all of his nerves had been for nothing. He would be married in two minutes by a bored secretary and sent back to work. The family would probably drag their feet on the dowry as well, forcing him to continue living in the barracks instead of like a married man.

    It had been a while since he abused mental cultivation to put himself to sleep, but Volithur relied on his old trick once more that night. He dragged his feet the next morning, barely finishing his rice porridge before it was time to line up for morning training.

    They began with stretches, as always. The exercises became more intense as dawn broke, until they reached the point of separating into their various groups. The Sergeant walked up front to address them on autopilot, directing them to break into their skill level groups. The only difference from every other day was that when the Sergeant finished, no one moved.

    ¡°Well? What¡¯s the hold up?¡±

    ¡°Uh, Sergeant? Behind you.¡±

    Glinting in the dawn¡¯s light, a perfectly spherical mirror grew in the sky above the estate grounds. It grew larger and larger until any doubt to its owner faded away. Only one man in the entire multiverse created a transit sphere that could cast a shadow on a city.

    Watching the sight, Volithur¡¯s heart began to pound.

    ¡°Fickle fates,¡± the Sergeant cursed. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard anything about an upcoming raid, but sometimes things happen on short notice. Everyone, throw together your full kit and get back in formation. Don¡¯t worry about cleaning up. The Lord General is a warrior, not a pampered noble.¡±

    The soldiers rushed to the barracks or back towards the city if they were part of the militia. The Sergeant frowned in Volithur¡¯s direction. ¡°You too, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°Uh, Sergeant?¡±

    The man folded his arms. ¡°I know you haven¡¯t been issued gear yet. Just grab a change of clothes. Don¡¯t worry about anything. These outings rarely are dangerous. Mostly we pacify the unempowered population while the powerhouses battle against the Jinn.¡±

    ¡°Sergeant, today is my wedding.¡±

    ¡°Look, kid, that obviously isn¡¯t happening. They¡¯ll reschedule for another day.¡±

    ¡°Khana sent the Lord General an invitation.¡±

    The annoyance on the Sergeant¡¯s face morphed into pure horror. For ten heartbeats, neither of them moved. Then the Sergeant sprinted forward to seize Volithur by the arm and pull him into a run. ¡°We¡¯re moving to the palace immediately. I¡¯ll be briefing the Marshal. You¡¯re going directly to the Castellan. Don¡¯t under any circumstances let his underlings prevent you from informing him of the situation. Run as fast as you can, Ward Harridan. They¡¯re late setting up for your wedding.¡±

    Volithur sprinted into the palace and up stairs towards the Castellan¡¯s office. He ran into a roadblock of bodies and plowed through them, shouldering staff and nobles aside until a cable of telekinetic force extended towards him.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Without a thought, Volithur engaged his aura and denied the attempt at restraint. He pushed aside one last ring of bodies to arrive before the Castellan, who only frowned briefly before flicking his hand dismissively. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for his nonsense. Throw him out of the palace.¡±

    ¡°Khana invited the Lord General to our wedding.¡±

    The Castellan blinked a couple of times as if the words struggled to reach his mind. ¡°You think the Lord General came here for your wedding?¡±

    ¡°Master Zara carried a handmade invitation from Khana when she left.¡± Or so Volithur assumed. He hadn¡¯t actually been able to follow up with his bride to know if she succeeded.

    For a few more seconds, the Castellan maintained an air of offended incredulity. Then his carefully cultivated image cracked, revealing panic. ¡°Have you been honest about your interaction with the Lord General this whole time?¡±

    Whether or not it was digging himself deeper into trouble, the only response he could give was to double down on the lie. ¡°I understand the Lord General was quite fond of my namesake,¡± Volithur said. ¡°Quite fond.¡±

    ¡°Merciful heavens,¡± the Castellan muttered. The tension of the people gathered in the corridor began to mount. ¡°Wedding. Right. Set up the banquet hall. Have the kitchen start on celebratory confections. Whatever was planned for dinner¡¯s main course will have to do, but see if the cook can improve on its presentation. The tailor needs to get rough measurements for the bride and groom immediately. Break out all three wine varieties in the cellar.¡±

    When the man paused for breath, the people who had been pointed at began squeezing through the crowd to attend to their duties. The Castellan turned to Volithur. ¡°I can assure you that your discretion today will be vastly rewarded. Stirring up trouble would make things uncomfortable for you just as much as the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any problems,¡± Volithur assured the man.

    ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s go meet the Lord General. Any of you who haven¡¯t been given a specific duty should spread the word that we are having a large celebration for the wedding and no one should forget that we have been planning it for quite some time.¡±

    The crowd scattered but for a couple of nobles who moved forward to stare at the Castellan. One was Master Rowan, who cleared his throat. ¡°Should I find my niece?¡±

    ¡°That would be a fantastic idea, Master Rowan,¡± the Castellan said with exaggerated patience.

    It was a mere five minutes later that they emerged from the palace towards the place where the Lord General waited to be received with his retinue. Volithur was still buttoning up the new uniform that had been forced onto him, one similar to what the Marshal would wear, that straddled the line between soldier and noble.

    Without needing to be told, Volithur understood his mission. He was to present himself as having been treated much better than he had in reality. Presumably he would be richly rewarded for the ruse. Alternatively, everyone would be extremely upset if he brought the wrath of the Lord General down upon the Fifth Household.

    The Lord General blazed with power, but was otherwise as Volithur remembered. He was average of height and build, with sharp features and a hint of gray at the temples. Unlike last time, he was not serious. In fact, he was laughing with his men at a lewd story being told by one of the soldiers.

    ¡°You know how Radish is! He will go along with absolutely anything. So the whore pulls her finger out of Chester¡¯s puckering rear end and puts it in Radish¡¯s mouth. She says ¡®suck it clean, big boy¡¯!¡±

    Another man leaned in. ¡°Did he?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know, man. I was out the door the moment butt fingers started going into mouths.¡±

    The Lord General wiped tears away from his eye as he turned towards the party come to greet him. ¡°Enough crass talk for the moment, men. The civilians might think less of us for it. Well met on your day of celebration, Ward Harridan!¡±

    ¡°Well met, Lord General,¡± Volithur returned immediately, reflexes honed during classroom etiquette lessons automatically engaging. Beside him, the Castellan wobbled on his feet.

    ¡°None of that Lord General stuff. For today, call me Master Thrakkar.¡±

    Volithur bowed. ¡°Thank you, Master Thrakkar.¡±

    ¡°So formal,¡± the Lord General remarked.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe this well-mannered child groped a woman in front of the family council,¡± the largest man in the retinue rumbled.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± the Lord General said, ¡°what is the story behind that adventure?¡±

    Volithur could only assume they were talking about Khana hugging him after their marriage was approved. Judging by the rowdy attitudes of the retinue, they would not appreciate if he set the record straight. They wanted to joke around. With him, for some reason. Yet he couldn¡¯t say anything too inappropriate. The sense of propriety instilled in him during his stay here could not be wholly ignored. It was the only thing that kept him safe most days.

    ¡°Master Thrakkar, I forgot the walls were made of glass,¡± he said.

    The Lord General chuckled. ¡°Watch out for those glass walls, men.¡±

    ¡°Glass walls will get you every time,¡± a handsome member of the retinue said.

    ¡°Castellan! What are the plans for the day?¡±

    The Castellan stepped forward and bowed. ¡°The wedding banquet is scheduled for dinner time. Do you wish us to pull the celebration forward, Lord General?¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± the Lord General said. ¡°My forces are gathering at the Fourth Household over the next several days. War Barge Kevin is guarding a lithium mine on an unempowered world. I intend to crush the damn Jinn this time. Prepare a room for my retinue. We¡¯ll spend some time with Ward Harridan if he has any to spare.¡±

    ¡°I believe the Marshal has given Ward Harridan the day off,¡± the Castellan said.

    ¡°Excellent! Be sure to collect Harridan when he is needed for the festivities. Until then, I¡¯d like to get to know my Ward.¡±

 Chapter 70

    Hector startled awake to the sound of Jeremy¡¯s incessant sneezing. Evelyn growled beside him and pulled a pillow over her head.

    ¡°Important events were happening in my dream,¡± Hector said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you picked a hotel with so much dust,¡± Jeremy shot back.

    ¡°We¡¯re not letting him into our room again,¡± Evelyn said.

    Jeremy sneezed once more. ¡°Are you going to pay for two rooms, Hector?¡±

    Rather than promise anything, Hector chose to continue his previous complaint. ¡°My dream guy was about to get married. One of the major figures in Xian history just arrived.¡±

    Evelyn lifted the pillow off of her face to look up at him. ¡°The Lord General?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. He was laughing and joking. Much less intimidating than the first time we met.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Jeremy said. ¡°You met the Lord General of the Xian in your dreams? That¡¯s insane. He¡¯s like if Hitler and Stalin had a baby as far as the Jinn are concerned.¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right. The Lord General¡¯s army killed my guy¡¯s parents in brutal fashion.¡±

    Jeremy sneezed once more. ¡°So who is your guy? Anyone famous?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a nobody whose only talent is his mental sense. Though with the way things are going, he could become a member of the Lord General¡¯s retinue.¡±

    ¡°Retinue. Sounds bougie.¡±

    Hector sat up. ¡°It¡¯s an entourage that entertains him, serves him, and theoretically protects him. Though I can¡¯t imagine a level ten Xian needing help from anyone.¡±

    Sneeze. ¡°If he¡¯s such a chill dude, call him up and tell him to save Earth.¡±

    ¡°You really think inviting Magic Hitler to invade is a good idea?¡±

    ¡°I think he mostly ignores unempowered people,¡± Jeremy said. ¡°He just slaughters Jinn. Oh, shit. That¡¯s me now. Maybe let¡¯s not summon the devil.¡±

    ¡°Good call.¡± Hector stretched. ¡°I¡¯m going to hit the fitness center. Do you two think you¡¯ll be ready by the time I get back? The Professor wants us at his place by ten to start taping.¡±

    ¡°Boo, no fitness center. Stay in bed with Evie.¡±

    ¡°Baby talky no attractive,¡± Hector admonished the girl in his bed.

    She threw a pillow at him in reply.

    ¡°I can warm his side of the bed if you¡¯re lonely,¡± Jeremy offered.

    ¡°Punch him in the penis, Hector.¡±

    Jeremy sneezed once more. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking advantage of the complimentary breakfast and not your girlfriend, Hector. No penis punching, please.¡±

    Hector left the room to hunt down the fitness center and get a quick workout in. Though he could have skipped a few days of his regimen, he didn¡¯t like the fact that he would be essentially useless the rest of the day. He had no information to offer on monsters and even less on relevant combat strategies. What he had learned vicariously through Volithur would be insane for normal humans to implement. From what he understood, punching a monster was one of the quicker methods of suicide. He wouldn¡¯t fare any better with a paltry level two soul and zero body enhancement.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Evelyn was still in bed when he returned and Jeremy was playing games on his phone. Hector had to herd the two of them through a morning routine and out the door to his car. They reached the garage studio of Professor Rahman and Hector moved to one of the raggedy couches to stay out of the way while the others discussed survival strategies that could be of use in a monster apocalypse.

    Sitting there, Hector thought of his father¡¯s tale of Deronto dying as collateral damage in a dragon attack. That same dragon had survived the ultimate strike from the most offensively powerful Xian of the Amarat nation on Tian. The risk to Earth wasn¡¯t a dragon, fortunately. Unfortunately, a horde of monsters would ultimately lead to the same outcome. People couldn¡¯t successfully hide. They couldn¡¯t defeat the larger specimens. They would eventually be poisoned by chaotic miasma if they managed to survive on the run long enough. That was the best outcome possible: live long enough for an inimical poison to rot their souls.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to lean too far into the doom and gloom aspect,¡± Rahman said. ¡°People will tune out. This is a waste of time if we don¡¯t get views. The views, whether you think it appropriate or not, will come from us having fun with it. The introduction will be something along the lines of ¡®we all know from our dreams that monster invasions are a thing that can happen; recently, a viewer asked me what should be done if such a thing happened on Earth, so I thought we might explore that topic for an episode¡¯. It frames the scenario in a way that makes people curious. From there we can get everyone thinking about the issue.¡±

    ¡°It really sounds like you¡¯re concentrating too much on your views,¡± Evelyn said.

    ¡°That¡¯s how it has to be done. You could post your own video if you wanted to. No one would ever see it, though, because you don¡¯t have an established audience. I have an audience because I know how these things work. We want this video to go viral so we can have an impact on people. That¡¯s a requirement for us to be effective. You think it will be some amazing boon to my channel, but this is going to be very off brand for me. I¡¯m a technology video blogger. One random off-topic video going viral won¡¯t give me a permanent boost in my numbers. It might even hurt if my original audience thinks I¡¯ve sold out.¡±

    Hector tuned out the rest of the discussion and sank into the couch. He attempted to cultivate, both with his aura and mentally, but the meager amounts of cosmic energy in the garage were rapidly depleted. Enclosed spaces at ground level tended to be poor environments.

    ¡°Fleeing is the best strategy,¡± Rahman was saying. ¡°We should emphasize stockpiling supplies and planning escape routes. A lot of our research has already been done by survivalists who write about ¡®shit hits the fan¡¯ events. The monster element doesn¡¯t appreciably change the best move available for the average person.¡±

    ¡°This is ridiculous. I can tell people where the monsters are most likely to come ashore. The invasion point is over the Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    Hector huffed in annoyance. He considered doing some push-ups for a moment. That would be weird and distracting for the others. What was he supposed to do here? After thinking it over for a while, he stood. ¡°Guys, I¡¯m not providing any value here. I¡¯ll be back at the hotel. If I¡¯m not back before you finish taping, give me a call.¡±

    He left before anyone could object, returning to the hotel where he cultivated in various public spaces while he considered his options. No action he could take would be immediately useful. Or even eventually useful. He still only had a level two soul. By his original time estimates, he should be close to level three by now, but these side quests were taking his focus away from cultivation. It would still take weeks of effort for him to advance his level.

    Once he reached level three, the fact remained that level four would require four times the cosmic energy and time investment to achieve. He might manage to get there before the impending monster apocalypse, but he would never see level five or higher. He certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to enhance his body. He would never have enough cosmic energy to make casual use of his domain, but it wasn¡¯t impossible that he could use his aura on occasion to block damage.

    That would not be enough. He couldn¡¯t fight the monsters. The survival focused video being created by the others wouldn¡¯t save any lives, only prolong them a few weeks. There seemed to be no hope for the future.

    Hector suddenly felt a pang of grief for his parents. His mother had been the glue that held their family together and he still on occasion held one-sided conversations with her. His father¡¯s loss was far more recent, bringing a sharper stab of pain. He¡¯d chosen to cast off Jen. All he had left were casual acquaintances and a romantic relationship that likely wouldn¡¯t last long enough for the end of the world to terminate it.

    Back in the dusty room he had rented, Hector lay down on the bed and began to use the inefficient version of mental cultivation. There really was only one thing he looked forward to. Much like his father in the end, Hector wanted to see the full story of his dream counterpart. ¡°Hope you¡¯ve got something good to entertain me with, Volithur.¡±

 Chapter 71

    Volithur sat with the retinue in a room at the very peak of the pyramid. The ceiling cap was the blue-green of copper verdigris, the sloping sides of the room were glass, and the floor was solid stone. They could look in any direction and see the estate of the Fifth Household with the city beyond its boundaries. Their seats had been provided by a dour member of the retinue called Stowaway, summoned out of nowhere as if by magic. The goblets of wine in everyone¡¯s hands had come from the servants who stood at strict attention, immobile but for the occasional fear tremor.

    ¡°Were you the only one sent to the Fifth Household?¡±

    ¡°There was another, Master Thrakkar. My friend Thassily was your ward until a girl in town fell pregnant.¡±

    The Lord General snorted a laugh. ¡°Young men truly have one thing on their minds.¡±

    Another of the retinue posed a question. ¡°Should we fetch your friend for the wedding?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that is necessary. He is very busy with his work and his family.¡±

    ¡°Sounds miserable,¡± the man responded.

    The Lord General grunted, which was enough to create a space in the banter for him. Volithur had noticed that the free spirited members of the retinue were not as free from convention as they first appeared. They told crass jokes, certainly, but no one ever interrupted the Lord General or contradicted him or had fun at his expense. If anything, they played more hazardous roles with their improvisation than those who followed the strict script of hierarchical interactions.

    ¡°I have known many men to be quite content with domesticity,¡± the Lord General drawled. ¡°It has never appealed to me, though I don¡¯t look down on those who choose that path. Let me ask you a question, Ward Harridan. Do you consider me a noble?¡±

    Volithur paused, mind racing. He had heard once that the Lord General was born a commoner and only became a noble when he reached level ten and became a lord. Calling the man a commoner, though¡­ that would not be proper. Not at all. ¡°Master Thrakkar, I would consider you a lord.¡±

    ¡°A good answer,¡± the Lord General said. ¡°I don¡¯t think of myself as a noble. They¡¯re a soft, pampered lot. I grew up poor in a neighborhood that only those with strength of limb and quickness of wit could survive. After a few false starts, I thrived there. Until the authorities decided I was a criminal, at which time my only options were execution or joining the local army. I think it¡¯s obvious from who I am now what I chose. I consider myself first and foremost a warrior. My next question: what do you consider yourself, Ward Harridan?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really know, Master Thrakkar.¡±

    ¡°The youth often struggle to find themselves. I notice that you¡¯ve made acceptable progress on your body enhancement. How has your combat training progressed?¡±

    ¡°I train with the intermediate group during sparring,¡± Volithur said.

    ¡°Do you do well?¡±

    Volithur winced. He really wanted to avoid displeasing this man, but he didn¡¯t want to be caught in a lie. ¡°The current stage of my body enhancement has introduced muscle imbalances that hurt my coordination.¡±

    ¡°How was your performance before that?¡±

    ¡°I was doing very good at the beginner level. They moved me up because they said I sparred too hard against the others.¡±

    ¡°Did you?¡±

    ¡°I think my fists are just hard.¡±

    Chuckles greeted his words. When the Lord General directed a smirk at his retinue, the large guy spoke. ¡°He looks like Harridan but thinks like me.¡±

    ¡°Hold up a minute, Yowl, let¡¯s not diagnose the boy with a personality disorder quite yet.¡±

    The big man smacked his gut as he laughed. ¡°Come on, Perry, I¡¯m tired of being the only battle maniac in the group.¡±

    The Lord General held a hand to his chest in faux outrage. ¡°I¡¯m not a battle maniac?¡±

    Yowl shrugged. ¡°With all my respect, Master Thrakkar, you¡¯re too smart to be called a maniac. When I punch a Jinn tank, I never know if the metal or my fist is breaking first. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you make a real mistake.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The Lord General nodded. ¡°Fair enough, Yowl. I have been warring with the Jinn for two hundred years now. That¡¯s taught me a thing or two about what not to do.¡±

    ¡°Master Thrakkar, with the virtue of all that experience, do you think I should punch War Barge Kevin?¡±

    ¡°Yowl, I think such action would be contrary to your well being,¡± the Lord General said. ¡°Ward Harridan, despite the hardness of your fists, I have reason to believe you might be a bit of an intellectual. I understand you attended an academic competition?¡±

    Volithur nodded. ¡°Yes, Master Thrakkar. I performed calculations as part of the Shaocheth team. We received a trophy the first year, but failed the next without Master Ulysses.¡±

    ¡°Calculations. The ability is essential for the commercial aspect of my family.¡± The way the Lord General spoke made it clear that he didn¡¯t have any personal interest in the subject.

    As a silence fell, Volithur racked his brain for something to say. He was certain the Lord General had never intended to make Volithur part of his retinue. Yet for some reason the man had accepted an invitation. During their first encounter, the Lord General gave the impression of someone seeing to a tedious task. Today he appeared in good spirits. His retinue put quite a bit of effort into entertaining their lord. Everything crystallized in a moment. The Lord General, warrior that he was, only enjoyed fighting and hanging out with the guys. He¡¯d come that day because he missed the real Harridan.

    ¡°Master Thrakkar? I have often wondered about who Harridan was. Could you share any stories of him?¡±

    His request proved wise. Not only did the Lord General jump at the opportunity, the members of the retinue became more at ease. He¡¯d not noticed it, but their previous levity had been a bit tense. No doubt worried that the ignorant commoner from an unempowered world would ruin the mood.

    The picture that they painted for Volithur was of a quiet man who had a savage sense of timing for comedic remarks. There was a long-running joke where Harridan would claim of random events that ¡®the dog must have done it¡¯. It had begun when a tracking dog had eaten the core of a beast they hunted before they could get there. Everyone had been irate at the animal until Harridan pointed to the missing heart core and made the obvious observation. It barely qualified as a joke then.

    Over time, though, the joke had grown. A soldier came home from over a year of warring to discover his wife pregnant and trying to play innocent. When the man roared to the retinue that someone had to be to blame, Harridan had struck with his line. When a Jinn hydrogen facility spontaneously exploded just days before their attack, Harridan had caused the irate Lord General to break into laughter when he blamed the dog.

    There was also a story of him discovering that the girl he married from his hometown was his second cousin. He voluntarily told everyone the situation, even people he met for the first time. He would apparently introduce himself and add ¡®I just recently learned I married my second cousin¡¯. After about a week of that, the Lord General asked him if he was bothered by the fact. His response was ¡®I thought she was my first cousin¡¯.

    In addition to being a laid back joker, Harridan had also been a steadfast companion who went out of his way to keep an eye on his fellow soldiers. He got drunks safely to bed, kept track of enlistment anniversaries, introduced shy soldiers to girls, and prevented equipment losses due to carelessness. His mannerisms eased over conflicts that arose among the ranks during the tension of extended campaigns.

    Volithur couldn¡¯t help but think that there were worse people to be named after. Not that he would ever think of himself as anything other than his birth name.

    Eventually, the Marshal¡¯s head appeared as he climbed the stone stairway to the top level. The Lord General squinted over at the man. ¡°You are the Marshal of this household, I believe?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lord General.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve done well with my Ward.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lord General.¡±

    ¡°Are you here to collect him? Wedding days tend to require things of the participants, as I recall.¡±

    ¡°If you do not mind, Lord General, I would like to describe the ceremony to Ward Harridan. He has never attended a wedding ceremony from our culture and I neglected to rehearse the proceedings with him.¡±

    ¡°Go, Harridan,¡± the Lord General commanded. ¡°On any other day, I would be the most important person here. Today it is your bride.¡±

    Volithur thanked the Lord General for his time and followed the Marshal down the steps. When they were on the first floor, the Marshal pulled Volithur into a side corridor where the Castellan awaited them.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on up there?¡±

    Volithur smiled at the nervous Castellan. ¡°Master Thrakkar was telling me stories about the original Harridan.¡±

    The Castellan scowled. ¡°You should have emphasized to us how fond of you the Lord General was. How were we to know you weren¡¯t a normal ward?¡±

    The Marshal made a chopping motion of his hand. ¡°The boy is not at fault for anything, Castellan. Ward Harridan, we have decided on a plan for your immediate future. As you are marrying, it would be improper to house you in the barracks. We will be assigning you a room in the palace for one year. And as an apology for any oversights in the past, you¡¯re being guaranteed a weekly blood boiling elixir.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s sense of righteousness indignation urged him to punish the Castellan and extort more resources, but whatever wisdom he possessed put a hold on that foolishness. He did not need enemies. Especially not when his fortunes rose and fell so easily on the whims of others. ¡°Master Marshal, Master Castellan, I of course appreciate your generosity. I hope you will continue to show me goodwill even though it is not necessary to entice my good behavior. The Fifth Household is my home and I would not speak out against it.¡±

    ¡°The fates are kind today,¡± the Castellan whispered.

    The Marshal nodded in agreement. ¡°Let¡¯s take you to your bride, Ward Harridan. The ceremony isn¡¯t complicated, but we don¡¯t want you looking like a fool.¡±

 Chapter 72

    When they arrived at the banquet hall, Master Rowan took a large gulp from his goblet of wine and eyed Volithur with a touch of exasperation. ¡°You cause me a great deal of stress, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°You have my sincere apologies, Master Rowan. You have always been kind to me.¡± The lie came easily. Rowan had never been hostile to him, so he bore him no ill will, but his most kind actions would be better described as polite.

    ¡°I have been kind to you,¡± the man agreed. ¡°Mention that to the Lord General if he asks about me. Only if he asks, mind you. I don¡¯t want his attention called to me unnecessarily.¡±

    Khana stepped past her uncle to stand before Volithur, a wild look in her eye. She looked radiant in a red wedding gown. ¡°How was your time with the Lord General? I heard you were granted permission to address him as a casual superior.¡±

    His lips quirked into a smile despite his attempts to keep a straight face. He had been quite annoyed at her for the terror the wedding invitation had caused him all morning, but at the moment something else occurred to him. He was no longer misrepresenting himself to his bride. He had publicly received the favor of the Lord General. Whether or not an invitation to join the famous retinue was extended, Volithur had already proven himself worthy of Khana.

    ¡°It was fun,¡± he said. When the Castellan gasped, Volithur amended his statement to something more appropriate given their relative stations. ¡°It was a great honor to be in his presence.¡±

    ¡°I bet you left a good impression,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hopefully,¡± Volithur said.

    The Marshal snorted. ¡°I arrived to extract Ward Harridan after two hours and discovered my efforts entirely unnecessary. He seemed quite at home.¡±

    The Castellan began pointing at seats. ¡°The Lord General is likely to place himself at either the head of the room or next to the windows. The positioning of the wedding party will be dictated by which is chosen and his level of interest in the proceedings.¡±

    Volithur found himself rapidly lost in the complexities of the Castellan¡¯s plan. It was an insane attempt to premeditate a response to whatever whim might possess the Lord General. As always, everything in the Fifth Household revolved around its ultimate master. That situation was only exacerbated by the Lord General being physically present.

    When the Castellan finished lecturing them on every anticipatable permutation of seating, they went outside to where a wooden arch had been erected on the porch of the West entryway of the pyramid palace. ¡°Once those in attendance have formed up in the yard, the two of you will be escorted by your representatives from the house to stand beneath the arch. While there, you will each swear to provide for each other physically, mentally, and financially. At that point you clasp hands and step out towards the guests. The officiant, in this case myself, will be holding a marriage contract. It is bad form to stop holding hands before both of you have signed. At the conclusion of the signing, you are expected to greet every witness. I trust I do not need to explain who you should greet first?¡±

    They rehearsed the ceremony a few times, Khana taking his left hand in her right because she had been practicing signing her name with her left hand. Then came a quick lunch in the palace, which was far more elaborate than the bread and water provided in the barracks. Volithur sat with Khana at a table in the banquet hall and ate a veritable feast. The first course was crumbles of hard-boiled eggs served over toast with various seasonings sprinkled on top. Then came steamed mussels with a creamy garlic sauce, which came with a side of rice. Finally, dessert consisted of various fruits.

    Khana chatted away as they ate, describing how she had been awoken by her uncle and aunt in a panic. Her guardians had not been very clear about their explanations and she¡¯d originally thought she had somehow slept so late that she was in danger of missing her wedding ceremony. It took her a few minutes to understand that the Lord General they kept referencing had come in person.

    To Volithur¡¯s gratification, Khana revealed that she had experienced many moments of self-doubt and regret for sending the invitation throughout the morning. Her concerns had only been replaced by relief when she heard the rumor that the Lord General was swapping jokes with his ward. Servants and family alike were astounded by the development.

    ¡°I heard Lydia was inconsolable,¡± Khana laughed. ¡°She thinks you are going to speak ill of her to the Lord General.¡±

    Volithur shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m amazed at how self-centered that kid is. As if I would even think about her when I¡¯m in the presence of a man who is¡­ a hundred and twenty-eight times more powerful than me.¡±

    ¡°Your talent at calculations still amazes me,¡± Khana said. ¡°I¡¯m amazed you can be successful as a soldier and a scholar.¡±

    He almost laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t know that I should be considered ¡®successful¡¯ as a soldier.¡±

    ¡°Of course you are! Your body enhancement is better than most of the soldiers.¡±

    Though he knew the measure of soldierly competence wasn¡¯t so simple as that, Volithur didn¡¯t truly want to convince his bride of his deficits. The end of their meal saw them separated once more. The Castellan had Volithur bathed, groomed, and dressed up in a red wedding tunic by servants.

    He was given a tea powder elixir afterwards and instructed to bring all the cosmic energy into his soul so that he would appear more impressive to the senses of his fellow Xian. So Volithur sat and cultivated, first bodily and then using the aura method, for once not immediately using the gathered energy to enhance portions of his physique.

    The day had been the best one since his abduction. He felt a sliver of guilt cozying up to the man whose egotistical invasion led to the deaths of his parents and friends. Volithur fought back against the moral reaction. He couldn¡¯t hold onto his grievance and move forward at the same time. He wanted to be happy. He wanted Khana to be happy with him. The price of that was low, he simply had to ignore a fact that he could never change. His old world was dead to him and the man responsible for that was the ticket to everything he wanted in this new world.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The Marshal collected him when it was time and guided him to the doorway leading to the West. There were still hours of daylight remaining, but the angle of the sun had turned it into a spotlight illuminating the arch. Off to the side, Master Rowan arrived with Khana in tow.

    The lawn filled with members of the family, all of whom were strangely docile. Though he knew the reason for their subdued behavior, Volithur had trouble reconciling the egotistical creatures with the somber crowd. The hush grew more pronounced when the Lord General and his retinue descended from the sky to land at the front of the crowd.

    That was the signal. The Castellan moved forward to stand as officiant, his private clerk at his side holding a portable lectern with a piece of paper secured to it. ¡°Lord General, esteemed guests, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the wedding of Khana Shaocheth and Ward Harridan. All of us know of the love these two have for each other and share in their happiness. In the sincere tradition of the Amaratti Xian, then, let us witness the public proclamations.¡±

    The Marshal led Volithur through the door to stand at the right side of the porch, the arch still between him and the audience. Then Master Rowan led Khana to stand on the left side. As rehearsed, the two of them left behind their chaperons to step under the arch.

    ¡°I, Harridan, Ward of the Lord General, swear to provide for you, Khana, physically and mentally and financially for so long as I live.¡±

    ¡°I, Khana Shaocheth, descendant of the Lord General, swear to provide for you, Harridan, physically and mentally and financially for so long as I live.¡±

    Khana took his left hand in her right and they stepped forward towards the audience, leaving the arch behind. Taking the offered pen, Volithur signed his name and then handed it to Khana. Once she had signed, the Castellan took the pen. They bowed deeply to their witnesses and the ceremony was complete.

    They intended to greet their guests, starting with the Lord General, but that proved wholly unnecessary. The Lord General stepped forward with the dour man Stowaway at his side, speaking in a voice that carried quite some distance.

    ¡°I receive a lot of invitations to these sorts of events. It¡¯s not often I have the time or inclination to attend, but today I am pleased to serve as witness. May this marriage be blessed by fortune and fate. Descendant Rowan, Marshal Lethevar, I bestow upon you each as marriage sponsors a double dose of silver plasma elixir.¡±

    The Lord General held out a hand and Stowaway placed the extra large vials in it. Master Rowan and the Marshal rushed forward to kneel and accept the gift, words of thanks stumbling from their lips.

    ¡°Descendant Khana, Ward Harridan, I bestow upon you each a double dose of gold plasma elixir made from the blood and core of a bear I personally hunted on Xian.¡±

    Volithur accepted the large vial placed in his hand, too shocked to take a knee as etiquette dictated. Beside him, Khana was similarly out of sorts. The Lord General¡¯s smile grew sad as he stared at Volithur. No doubt missing the real Harridan. The joker with impeccable timing.

    Well, here¡¯s my cue.

    Volithur cleared his throat. ¡°I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, Master Thrakkar. Though now I must content myself with being the second best thing my bride received on our wedding day.¡±

    For several seconds, horrified silence followed his cheeky reply, the severity of the impropriety highlighted by the absolute horror writ across the Castellan¡¯s features. Volithur¡¯s stomach clenched as he wondered if he had made a misjudgment.

    Then the Lord General erupted into laughter. His retinue joined in with the merriment, and then the crowd of family members rushed to titter politely. The Lord General clapped Volithur on the back. ¡°That¡¯s the risk of inviting a lord to your wedding, Ward Harridan. Marshal!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lord General!¡±

    ¡°I will send someone to evaluate Ward Harridan in one year¡¯s time. See to it that his training is not neglected. I may have need of his services.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Lord General,¡± the Marshal snapped.

    The Lord General stepped back. ¡°As pleasant as this has been, it is time I return to my army. We have to prepare for our appointment with War Barge Kevin.¡± The Lord General held out his hand imperiously.

    Volithur glanced at the dramatic gesture, instinctively using his sensory ability in the ¡®mimic monkey¡¯ game. Instantly, he saw a nightmare he had almost forgotten unexpectedly come to life: waves of primordial chaos rising in a cohesive up-welling.

    It was like what he had seen countless times before with the ¡®twin touch¡¯ game, except whatever the Lord General did nullified the self-cancellation effect that prevented chaos from exploding into a virulent reality-eating cancer. The restraints of mundane reality were slipped and chaos was released upon the world.

    With mounting horror, Volithur watched the doom of reality. Time slowed to a crawl. Every momentary, random fluctuation was highlighted in excruciating detail as the microscopic bubble of primordial chaos swelled in size and intensity and grandeur. It was raw and beautiful and absolutely captivated him mind and soul.

    And then his perspective twisted. With sudden clarity, he saw before it happened how the rapidly inflating sphere of disorder would transform. Countless threads of randomness would merge into perfect cohesion.

    It transpired exactly as he knew it would. The rapidly expanding ball of chaos shifted instantly into malleable, pristinely pure cosmic energy that manifested as a mirrored sphere capable of ferrying humans between universes.

    Barely noticeable to Volithur, the Lord General and his retinue entered the fully grown sphere and were spirited away. When the Marshal spoke to him, he couldn¡¯t make sense of the words that were spoken. He couldn¡¯t stop staring into space, his mind replaying what he had seen. Not even when Khana shook him, panic in her voice.

    Nothing reached Volithur. He had been transported beyond the reach of his senses. Again and again, he saw the indescribable beauty that had been laid bare before him.

    Chaos broke free of the inviolable symmetry restraining its rise.

    Chaos raged as it rapidly expanded.

    Chaos collapsed into the purest cosmic energy he had ever seen.

    Again and again and again the steps repeated in his mind. He anticipated a thousand potential variations. A million. More. There were infinite patterns in chaos, and beyond all of them was an ineffable truth deeper and stronger than anything.

    Though he vaguely realized he had lost all contact with reality, Volithur felt awake for the first time in his life.

 Chapter 73

    ¡°Hector! Hector! Wake up!¡±

    Infinite variations of chaos swam before him, transforming again and again.

    ¡°Do we call an ambulance?¡±

    ¡°Maybe! I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with him!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to get Rahman to come in.¡±

    ¡°Hector!¡±

    Chaos into cosmic energy. The truth vibrated in resonance with a deeper reality Hector saw stretching away all about him. He knew it with such certainty that he couldn¡¯t imagine why he never understood before. Of all the knowledge he had amassed throughout the life of himself and his dream counterpart, this was the only bit that stood by itself as an absolute axiom.

    A new voice. ¡°How long has he been like this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been fifteen minutes since we got here.¡± The familiar voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long he was like this before that. When did we call him to pick us up at your place? Two hours ago?¡±

    ¡°So he could have been like this for two hours or maybe as long as six, if he became comatose as soon as he reached the hotel.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a stroke? Or maybe a blood sugar thing?¡±

    ¡°Let me try a sternum rub. If he¡¯s conscious, it should rouse a response.¡±

    An unpleasant sensation grew rapidly, distracting him from the hypnotic dance of chaos.

    Hector jerked and shoved the knuckles away from his chest. Three concerned faces stared down at him. Evelyn was petting his head like he was a dog and Professor Rahman¡¯s hand was extended towards Hector¡¯s chest. ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°Hector! Are you awake?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m awake, Evelyn. Why don¡¯t you keep your hands away from my chest, professor?¡±

    ¡°What happened? Do you have chest pains? Is your arm numb? Do you have trouble moving one side of your body?¡±

    Hector¡¯s thoughts returned to the revelation of Volithur. It was all so clear still. He wanted to act on the new knowledge right that moment.

    ¡°Hector!¡±

    ¡°What? I¡¯m still awake.¡±

    ¡°Are you having a stroke?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡­.¡± How to explain what he had learned? ¡°I think Volithur had a true insight.¡± Those words didn¡¯t give the appropriate weight to the situation. ¡°Evie, I was wrong about Volithur. He can¡¯t possibly be a nobody. What he just discovered¡­ it¡¯s big.¡±

    ¡°You were dead to the world, Hector. We couldn¡¯t wake you up. I thought my much older boyfriend stroked out.¡± Her voice caught at the end.

    Hector pulled her hand off his hair and held it. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m not having a health issue. I¡¯m in better shape than most people you know. This was just a dream thing.¡±

    ¡°The dreams don¡¯t prevent people from waking,¡± Professor Rahman said.

    Jeremy jumped to defend his argument. ¡°Well, maybe his brain needed extra time to download the true insight.¡±

    ¡°The dreams aren¡¯t a data download,¡± Evelyn snapped.

    ¡°Of course they are,¡± Jeremy said. ¡°One of the benefits of absorbing legal energy is that thoughts become quantized. All the messy biological noise is corrected or removed, leaving a precise pattern of meaning that can be accurately transmitted. It¡¯s how Jinn upload their minds to computers. And it¡¯s almost certainly how these memories are being transmitted into our brains.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Jinn nonsense,¡± Evelyn said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how the dreams are coming to us, but I can tell you that the phenomenon is strongly based in illusory energy.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s both,¡± Professor Rahman said. ¡°I don¡¯t know the specifics, but Jinn and Arahant were involved in creating the Dream Engine.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The question came from Evelyn, Jeremy, and Hector.

    ¡°My dreams come from a more recent era,¡± Professor Rahman elaborated. ¡°After the attack on Tian convinced the Xian to ally with the other branches of humanity to form the coalition army. There were two plans proposed to deal with the unchecked spread of the monsters, which were spreading like a virus among the millions of universes occupied by humanity. The first was to wipe out the unempowered worlds entirely. As insane as the proposal was, it had supporters among all three of the major species. The other option was to give the unempowered worlds the ability to fight back. They constructed a device that combined the methods of the Jinn and the Arahants so that unempowered humans could gain enough knowledge to fight back.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard any of that before,¡± Jeremy said.

    ¡°There is a normal distribution of eras being experienced. Most people dream of events between the fall of Aes and the formalization of the alliance between Jinn and Arahant. A few see much older events, all the way back to the formation of the pact that requires mutual aid during a dragon attack. Not only did I experience the late era, which is rare enough, but my counterpart actually had some knowledge of current events at a time when there was very little clarity.¡±

    Hector cleared his throat. ¡°As interesting as the history lesson is, professor, my revelation is more relevant to the imminent monster invasion.¡±

    Evelyn¡¯s hand tightened on his. ¡°What is it, Hector?¡±

    ¡°Volithur witnessed the Lord General create a transit sphere and gained a true insight. I know how to get as much cosmic energy as I could ever want right here on Earth.¡±

    Jeremy pumped his fist into the air. ¡°Yes! What¡¯s the secret, boss man?¡±

    ¡°Chaos can be transformed into cosmic energy. I¡¯m certain I could reach through my externality aperture and draw as much as I need.¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah! Let¡¯s get back to the garage and tape an episode on how to do it. We can have every Xian on Earth power up to get ready to fight the monsters!¡±

    Hector paused. ¡°Oh, sorry, Jeremy, I don¡¯t think I can explain the method to someone else.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    Evelyn answered on his behalf. ¡°Because it¡¯s a true insight. That¡¯s not something you can learn from a lecture. Despite what you might think, insights are rare. Every other person on Earth has been handed a free insight through their dreams, but on Maya it was estimated that only one in a thousand Arahants would ever gain an insight. If an Arahant can¡¯t teach an insight, then nobody can.¡±

    Jeremy deflated. ¡°So that means we get one Xian warrior.¡±

    ¡°A Xian warrior who will never run out of cosmic energy,¡± Hector countered. ¡°One who can level up as fast on Earth as they do on Tian. Maybe faster.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like speculation,¡± Professor Rahman said.

    ¡°Let me do a quick test.¡± Hector stretched out a thread of cosmic energy through the externality aperture of his soul, then drew back a gulp of primordial chaos. The caustic substance transformed under his will, becoming pure cosmic energy as it entered his soul. That single puff was equivalent to hours of diligent cultivation. A smile stretched across his face. ¡°I¡¯ll reach level three today. Level four by the end of the week.¡±

    Professor Rahman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ¡°The three of you try my patience. The Sage of Foresight sees glimpses of potential futures. The limitation is that she can only see things that she might witness one day, correct?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the Sage of Foresight,¡± Evelyn said.

    ¡°That hardly matters,¡± Professor Rahman responded.

    ¡°It really does. An Arahant steps into a role through the realization process. If I inhabited the role of the Sage of Foresight, I wouldn¡¯t be seeing tiny glimpses. I would be living out entire hours from possible timelines.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the clarification on that. My point remains. You are not using your power properly. Hector, I want you to spend the rest of the day cultivating, starting at this moment. Everyone please agree not to disturb him. When we meet you at nine tonight, please say the words ¡®my estimation is¡¯ followed by the time you expect to reach level four.¡±

    ¡°Rahman, we don¡¯t have time for that,¡± Evelyn said.

    ¡°Evie,¡± Rahman interrupted her, ¡°please look for the future where Hector gives his report.¡±

    Evelyn¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°I never thought to use other people.¡±

    ¡°Fortunately I did. Please take Hector¡¯s report.¡±

    Two minutes later, Evelyn opened her eyes. ¡°He says five days.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fast,¡± Hector said.

    Rahman took a piece of stationary with the hotel¡¯s logo on it and began to write rapidly. ¡°Not fast enough. Each level doubles the potency of the soul, but the expense to reach it increases at a factorial rate. Assuming your estimates are correct and your rate of cultivation remains constant, you could be level six in about as many months. It would take three years for you to reach level seven. Do you think a level six Xian is capable of destroying an invasion that can annihilate the armed forces of every nation on Earth?¡±

    The question hit hard. Hector could only shake his head in denial.

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious that you will not save the entire planet by yourself,¡± Professor Rahman said. ¡°However, that might not be necessary. You said earlier that you gained an insight by seeing a transit sphere. One made by the famed Lord General himself.¡± The man leaned forward. ¡°Hector, do you think it would be possible for you to travel to other universes?¡±

    Hector frowned in thought. His insight, while inspired by a transit sphere, didn¡¯t seem directly related to that application. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°If you ever realize that you can, I want you to invite Evie to see your departure. Agreed?¡±

    Hector could already see where this was going. ¡°I will.¡±

    Professor Rahman turned his attention to Evelyn. ¡°You are looking for a mirrored sphere. Can you see Hector making one?¡±

    She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered something to herself that sounded like ¡®please let this be it¡¯. A few moments later, her eyes shot open. ¡°He does!¡±

    Professor Rahman nodded in satisfaction. ¡°Good. Then the path forward should be obvious to all. Hector needs to find one of the coalition armies and bring it back here in time to save Earth. I¡¯m not sure how much strength is necessary to create a transit sphere, but you should not delay your departure. Your immediate priorities must be growing stronger and learning from your dream counterpart.¡±

    ¡°So cultivating and sleeping. I can handle that.¡± Hector left the bed to perch on one of the cheap chairs. He reached out to chaos and drew in a stream of purified cosmic energy. He would achieve level three and then sleep to learn more lessons from Volithur.

    And, despite his concerns that he might be dipping into voyeurism, Hector wanted to experience being married to Khana.

 Chapter 74

    The lack of a gently swaying hammock caused Volithur to startle awake. He sat up in a panic, not sure where he was. The only normal beds he had slept in since his abduction had been at the academic competition and when he stayed at the militia infirmary after a beating from Master Dorian. After a moment, his memory returned.

    That¡­ was less than helpful. He remembered the Lord General¡¯s departure and glimpsing the deepest secrets of the universe. Then being in a soft bed in the dark.

    An arm looped over him, almost causing Volithur to scream. A voice came with it. ¡°Harridan? I mean Volithur. Are you feeling better?¡±

    ¡°Khana! Where am I?¡±

    ¡°This is our new room. You passed unconscious after our ceremony. The doctor says you are physically healthy. She thinks you suffer from a nervous disorder. Were you so relieved to have pleased the Lord General that you lost control of yourself? I promise I won¡¯t think less of you if that is so, but I don¡¯t know if you should enter his retinue in that case.¡±

    Volithur reached out through his externality aperture to touch primal chaos. After only a moment¡¯s hesitation, he drew it into his soul. The stream of filth collapsed into nourishing cosmic energy at the slightest exertion of his will. He stared up into the darkness of the room. ¡°Khana? I played ¡®mimic monkey¡¯ when the Lord General left.¡±

    ¡°Why? What if he somehow knew what you did? A lord could have actual secret techniques, Volithur! You could get in so much trouble taking risks like that.¡±

    ¡°I saw part of what he did. I know how to do it.¡±

    ¡°You learned how to make giant transit spheres?¡±

    Volithur hesitated a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. This is about chaos and cosmic energy. They¡¯re interchangeable. I can draw power through my externality.¡±

    Her fingers dug into his arm. ¡°Don¡¯t even dare try it. You¡¯ll poison your soul.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already done it, Khana. It¡¯s the purest source of cosmic energy I¡¯ve ever encountered.¡±

    ¡°Volithur!¡±

    ¡°Observe me with your senses.¡± He drew in another sliver of cosmic energy and let it suffuse him. Then again. And again.

    ¡°How are you doing that?¡±

    ¡°Chaos can become cosmic energy. I don¡¯t know how to explain it. After seeing what the Lord General did, I just knew how to do it.¡±

    ¡°A true insight.¡± Khana¡¯s voice held awe. ¡°A powerful one.¡±

    ¡°I think I could reach level four in a couple of days if I wanted to. I need to finish my body enhancement first, of course. I¡¯m not sure how long that will take.¡±

    ¡°You can finish it tonight with the elixir you received from the Lord General,¡± Khana said.

    The gold plasma elixir. Volithur¡¯s hands shot to the pockets of his tunic. He¡¯d been holding it in his hand when the Lord General left. Had someone taken it? Worse yet, had he dropped the vial? If he lost such a valuable item, he would hate himself forever.

    ¡°I have both vials in my possession,¡± Khana said.

    The panic abated. ¡°Thank God.¡±

    Khana pressed her forehead against his shoulder. ¡°You had me very worried, husband.¡±

    Her words sent tingles all through his body. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Khana. I ruined your wedding day. We didn¡¯t even get to enjoy our banquet.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just food, Volithur. You gained a true insight. Our future will be a good one. Maybe you won¡¯t need to join the Lord General¡¯s retinue. You could grow strong on your own. We could move to Tian and grow strong.¡±

    Volithur rolled to face his wife. ¡°You know, it¡¯s our wedding night.¡±

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    ¡°Is it? Oh, I think I know what¡¯s on your mind. You want to cultivate our gold plasma elixirs together. That would indeed be an auspicious start to our marriage.¡± Her breath sent goosebumps across his exposed skin.

    ¡°What¡¯s an elixir?¡±

    ¡°Something people drink.¡±

    ¡°Sounds boring,¡± he said.

    ¡°Perhaps. Can you suggest a more engaging way to spend the night?¡±

    ¡°I think I have an idea.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± She had slid closer until only the barest sliver of space separated their faces.

    ¡°Do you remember when Master Rowan caught us during the competition?¡±

    ¡°He was very rude to interrupt,¡± Khana said.

    ¡°No one is here to stop us now.¡±

    The following morning, Volithur and Khana clinked vials and consumed their elixirs together. Power began to instantly flow through his body. It melded with tissue as if it possessed a mind of its own. In less than ten minutes, Volithur¡¯s entire body had been elevated to the peak of level three and the excess energy poured into his soul.

    Another five minutes passed before the elixir¡¯s power dissipated. Volithur¡¯s soul was halfway filled from the overflow. He glanced to the side and saw that Khana had seen significant benefits as well. Her soul had not gained much, but her body showed significant enhancement. She was still ahead of him, being at level four while he was only level three.

    That advantage would not last long when he could use chaos as a resource. ¡°Khana, the Castellan promised me a weekly blood boiling elixir.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great, Volithur!¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t need it.¡±

    ¡°Take it anyway. The family hardly deserves it.¡±

    ¡°But you do,¡± he said.

    Khana blushed and flipped her hair forward to hide her face. ¡°Do you remember when you gave me a tea powder elixir?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I thought I was an idiot, but I couldn¡¯t stand to see you so sad.¡±

    ¡°I kept the vial you gave me.¡± She peeked at him from beneath a curtain of hair. ¡°You cured my bitterness that day, Volithur. I thought my life over and you made me believe I had a future.¡±

    Volithur almost told her the truth about his first meeting with the Lord General. He wanted to be honest with his wife. He held back out of concern. Even though things had worked out, it didn¡¯t speak well to his character that he would let her marry him believing such a deception.

    He sought something else to share. Khana had bared a secret and the scales were unbalanced between them. There was one thing that came to mind. Something as honest as it was shameful. He had first fallen for Khana when she performed a poem for Ulysses.

    Before he could work up the nerve, Khana hopped up from the bed. ¡°Should we get breakfast?¡±

    He hesitated. ¡°Do I take my meals in the palace now?¡±

    ¡°You live here, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¡­ I¡¯m not part of the family.¡±

    ¡°Ward Harridan, you hold the Lord General¡¯s favor. Who is going to deny you?¡±

    The words of his wife proved prescient. In the banquet hall, they were greeted with warm congratulations on their marriage, often from people Volithur had never met. He loaded a plate with goat meat strips, cinnamon-dusted rice, and jam-filled pastries. Khana stared as he shoveled the food into his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re going to choke if you don¡¯t slow down.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be late to morning training.¡±

    A few minutes later, the Marshal sat down next to him. ¡°Ward Harridan! It¡¯s good to see you ambulatory once more. Your swooning spell so soon after I was commanded to turn you into a capable warrior did not help my peace of mind.¡±

    ¡°My apologies, Master Marshal. I experienced a revelation and became lost to the world.¡±

    The Marshal raised a brow in skepticism. ¡°So long as the event doesn¡¯t repeat. I see you wasted no time consuming your elixir. Your performance in combat training should be much greater now that your body enhancement is complete up to the third level.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I will know very shortly, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°Not for a few days yet, Ward Harridan. I want to evaluate your capabilities myself before you resume normal training. Be forewarned that I will be holding you to a high standard. I expect you to be competent with the spear in a month. In six, I want you integrating your domain into combat.¡±

    A bit of pastry caught in Volithur¡¯s throat. He hadn¡¯t yet done anything more with a spear than practice solo drills. His domain experience hadn¡¯t progressed beyond simply lifting small rocks either. The Marshal¡¯s goals for him were wildly ambitious.

    ¡°I can grant you daily cosmic water to help you recover your energy reserves between training sessions,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°If necessary, we can even get you into the family¡¯s cosmic chamber on occasion.¡±

    Volithur¡¯s mounting panic abated a hair. ¡°I don¡¯t need the cosmic chamber, Master Marshal. I can restore my energy reserves fast enough without it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that. Finish your meal and meet me at the barracks.¡±

 Chapter 75

    The blunted tip of a practice spear came hard at his gut. Volithur used the haft of his own spear to redirect the tip. Then the butt of the Marshal¡¯s spear spun around to clip him in the head.

    Volithur defended himself with his aura, halting the attack completely. When he followed up with a stab of his own, the Marshal circled the spear butt and tapped Volithur¡¯s weapon down and then stepped in to knock Volithur back. His aura rose in time to protect him from the worst of the strike, but Volithur was still thrown off his feet.

    The Marshal motioned for Volithur to stand. The private lessons had lasted a week already.

    His level three body enhancement barely helped against the Marshal. The man was better in every way and Volithur¡¯s efforts seemed pathetic in comparison to the casual skill on display. He considered it a win if he held his spear correctly and used proper footwork.

    They spent two hours every morning on spear work. Then in the afternoon Volithur worked domain exercises with the Sergeant for another two hours. Otherwise, he was expected to cultivate. A demand he scrupulously followed. Even with the copious amounts of cosmic energy he expended using his aura to block and his domain to manipulate objects, Volithur ended every day with more cosmic energy reserves in his soul than the day before.

    He received a double vial of cosmic water every evening, which he passed off to Khana. He did the same with the first of his weekly blood boiling elixirs. Khana dutifully cultivated a few hours every day. Otherwise, he discovered that the life of the nobles was every bit as indolent as he¡¯d imagined. Khana would often spend an entire afternoon leisurely reading trashy romance novels in the lounge while a servant played a harp. She also spent an inordinate amount of time drawing pastoral scenes in charcoal. Then there was the daily morning stroll the women took around the main courtyard at the center of the pyramid¡¯s first floor. From what Volithur understood, it was ninety percent gossiping with a small amount of physical activity.

    Khana enjoyed her mundane activities, so Volithur made sure not to voice any of the criticisms on his mind. He¡¯d certainly wasted plenty of hours at the mall¡¯s arcade before his abduction. Still, he had trouble conceiving of members of a Xian noble family, descendants of the Lord General himself, who contented themselves with being layabouts.

    Maybe their lack of ambition was why these particular family members were placed in the Fifth Household. From what Volithur had picked up over the years, the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Households existed as a last chance to descendants who showed little potential. What he hadn¡¯t expected was for a major component of their ¡®potential¡¯ to be willingness to expend effort. Living among the family had given him a less than positive impression of their habits.

    Many of them weren¡¯t willing to work more than an hour a day at cultivation, even with easy access to resources as a reward and the threat of being disinherited as a punishment. What seemed to Volithur like powerful incentives failed to inspire serious efforts.

    That realization caused him to lose a lot of respect for the family even as their pleasant reception of him eased over a lot of the unspoken hostility he held towards them. He began to think of them less as frightening creatures who held his fate in their hands and more as lazy, inept social climbers. So long as they thought him important, or even just potentially important, they were harmless.

    Something that confirmed his opinions was the regular parade of young nobles who thanked Volithur for occupying the Marshal during the mornings. They welcomed being able to skip private lessons with a skilled level six warrior. Volithur could somewhat understand their position, given the fact that he had often dreamed of sleeping in and skipping morning training when he lived in the barracks. The difference between receiving personalized training with a master and attending group classes inclusive of the city militia was like day and night. In Volithur¡¯s estimation, the noble brats should have been irate that a priceless opportunity had been stolen from them instead of grateful that they had more free time.

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    Meanwhile, Volithur spent upwards of twelve hours a day in cultivation. For close to two years, he labored for the slightest advancement. Now, cosmic energy poured into his soul as simply as if he¡¯d opened a tap to let it in. He could have reached level four already if he wasn¡¯t training so hard with the Marshal and the Sergeant. Aura and domain usage both drew down his energy reserves at ruinous rates.

    That was partially due to the extravagance inspired by how quickly he replenished. The need to be economical with his reserves had passed. When he did domain exercises with the Sergeant, Volithur no longer held back in an attempt to preserve energy for the future. He knew he could recover anything he spent in a reasonable time and acted accordingly. When he sparred the Marshal, Volithur made liberal use of his aura to protect himself from strikes.

    Though Volithur¡¯s life and status had changed significantly, he didn¡¯t have much time to appreciate the difference. He certainly ate better. The quality of his instruction had improved. And his room mate situation could not even compare to what came before.

    Yet the fact remained that he still spent most of his waking time pulling cosmic energy into his soul in a bid to reach the fourth level. He alternated between sitting cross-legged on the floor, lounging in a chair, and reclining on his bed. All the while he cultivated chaos.

    The process proved very different from the methods he previously employed. Mental cultivation, the first method he had become competent in, relied upon using a thought filter and allowing the pressure of cosmic energy on the mental band to equalize into the soul. Aural cultivation, the method he had gained the most proficiency in, required him to actively draw energy in a cycle very reminiscent of breathing. Body cultivation required resources.

    His newest method was simpler than all of that. Assuming you had the right true insight, that was. Otherwise it was impossible. Or, if you were willing to poison your soul, you could turn your realm into a filter. All Volithur had to do was open the aperture at the base of his soul, the one that intersected with primordial chaos, and draw in as much as he needed. The chaos transformed into cosmic energy in accordance with his understanding.

    The process was quick and simple. Not necessarily easy, though. It took a certain amount of effort. Volithur didn¡¯t notice that effort until he had spent some time at it. The strain would sneak up on him as he worked, until he suddenly realized that he was close to exhaustion.

    Even with that minor limitation, he cultivated faster than he would ever have believed possible. Faster than he would have managed if he was granted daily elixirs and refused to use any of the energy. The benefits of his new method promised greatness. He only wished he could train for longer. The sense of accomplishment that fed his ego proved a powerful enticement for him. For years he had been weak and subject to the whims of the more powerful. He intended to ensure that state didn¡¯t repeat.

    Whether his goal could be achieved was questionable. Entities such as the Lord General were far beyond him. Yet¡­ why couldn¡¯t he reach those heights himself one day? He had a true insight that could serve as a cheat code for cultivation.

    As he thought more about his insight, Volithur came up with ever more questions. He¡¯d learned it from watching the Lord General, so why didn¡¯t he have the slightest intuition for how to create a transit sphere? Did he only understand a single step of a larger process? Could he expand his grasp of ultimate reality over time to include the extra bits at a later point? Did he even need to worry about something as particular as transit spheres when he could generate cosmic energy any place at any time?

    Volithur didn¡¯t know how people would react to his possession of a true insight. Khana thought it was rare and a great distinction. That made him want to shout the secret to anyone who would listen; publicly proclaim that he was special and worthy. Two things stopped him. First, concern that he might be accused of stealing techniques from the Lord General. Second, he didn¡¯t want the family to stop giving him the elixirs that he didn¡¯t need. They were going straight to Khana and he didn¡¯t want to jeopardize the supply line.

    So he kept quiet. And trained under experts. And cultivated endlessly. His progress proved rapid. Then, three weeks after his wedding, his schedule suddenly changed.

 Chapter 76

    The Marshal walked Volithur to the intermediate skill class for sparring. When Instructor Lisbet saw their approach, she called a halt to the action. ¡°Class! Welcome Master Harridan back!¡±

    ¡°Welcome, Master Harridan!¡±

    Volithur stood dumbfounded at the form of address. Had his status really changed so drastically? Were they just messing with him because he¡¯d missing in action for a few weeks? The Marshal¡¯s next words made clear exactly what was happening.

    ¡°Students! I have been charged by the Lord General to prepare Ward Harridan to serve him. For several weeks, I have tutored him personally. Yet, as you all know, learning a combat art requires training against as many partners as possible. That means I need your assistance. Until I tell you otherwise, this class exists only to turn Ward Harridan into a capable warrior. You will discharge this duty by ruthlessly beating him into the ground. Do not hold back out of misguided charity. Ward Harridan may one day be charged with guarding the Lord General¡¯s back. Any weakness in him must be removed. Do you understand me?¡±

    As the students roared their agreement, Volithur mouthed all the most vile obscenities he knew. He would certainly waste a lot of cosmic energy blocking strikes with his aura. Worse, he would certainly fail to block some of those strikes. He knew from experience that a body at the peak of level three was powerful. He also could say for a fact that it was not immune to pain and injury. Another thing he knew: blunted spears left horrific bruises.

    Volithur tried to ignore his misgivings as Instructor Lisbet directed him to stand across from another student. They were both handed spears and instructed to prepare for combat. When Lisbet ordered them to fight, the man swung his spear in a fast, powerful strike that promised to knock Volithur out if it connected.

    He almost froze up in indecision, unable to spot the true attack hidden behind the sloppy feint. Finally, he gave up his attempt to divine the proper response. He would just have to do his best. Volithur blocked with his aura and drove his spear home into the gut of his opponent.

    The match ended rather abruptly when his aura arrested the attack and the other student dropped like a sack of flour, clutching his midsection as he moaned. Volithur stared in shock, not quite grasping that he had won so simply.

    The Marshal stepped forward then to clarify things. ¡°I have personally trained Ward Harridan for the past several weeks! Underestimate him at your peril! Instructor Lisbet, continue.¡±

    Lisbet didn¡¯t waste a second. ¡°Roland, attack Master Harridan!¡±

    The next student charge forward and drove his spear point forward. Volithur deflected it, ducked under the obvious swing of the butt as it came in, and kicked his opponent back. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, each shocked at the turn of events. Neither had expected Volithur to weather the initial salvo.

    Then the fight was on in earnest. Volithur reacted mostly on instinct, deflecting blows with the haft of his spear or the power of his aura until he could find opportunities to strike back. Each thrust and swing was easily blocked by the other student.

    Their match endured for several minutes until Volithur¡¯s opponent began to show signs of exhaustion. Weary of over-committing in case the display was a deception, Volithur picked up the pace. Soon it became obvious that the student was not faking his weariness. Volithur left his center line open to bait an attack.

    When his opponent¡¯s spear tip stabbed forward, Volithur coated his hand with his aura and seized the oncoming point. He redirected its momentum and pulled it past him, causing the student to stumble. Volithur leaped forward to headbutt his opponent, using his aura to prevent any trauma to himself.

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    The remaining students stared at Volithur¡¯s downed opponent. One of them squeaked out a question. ¡°How is he able to use his aura so often?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s being wasteful,¡± the Marshal responded. ¡°He cannot keep it up for long.¡±

    That observation proved to be accurate. Volithur defeated three more opponents before he realized he had spent three days of cultivation gains. When he began using his aura less frequently and with less intensity, things were no longer one-sided. He took several beatings that only ended when Instructor Lisbet declared his opponent the winner. None of those calls were even remotely contentious. Volithur had lost quite drastically to four of his opponents.

    When class ended, the Marshal thanked the other students and walked Volithur back to the palace. ¡°You did well, Ward Harridan.¡±

    ¡°I surprised myself, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a good teacher. You also received a massive boost from the gold plasma elixir. If I¡¯m being honest, you also abused your cosmic energy reserves to purchase some of those victories. That isn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing. If you serve alongside the Lord General, you won¡¯t want for resources. I¡¯m going to train you more like a noble than a common soldier. You don¡¯t have to be parsimonious with your energy. You shouldn¡¯t waste it, mind you, but you don¡¯t need to be cheap.¡±

    ¡°I will be more efficient tomorrow, Master Marshal.¡±

    ¡°I certainly hope so. Your lessons with the Sergeant are over for now. He has given you a passing grade on your domain basics. I expect you to develop fine control of your domain on your own from now on. I will periodically test your progress to ensure your diligence. Otherwise, use the time to cultivate. I want you to reach level four in the next two months.¡±

    The Marshal pulled a vial from inside his tunic. ¡°To that end, I have a special gift. Sugar crystals from Tian. Its unsuitability for body enhancement makes it a good means of replenishing soul reserves. The significant cosmic energy contained within it will become unbound as soon as digestion begins, so be ready to cultivate.¡±

    Volithur shook the small vial once it was in his hands, watching the coarse powder shift. ¡°I have never heard of using sugar from Tian.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s both expensive and difficult to use. Most people lack the skill to use it properly and let most of the cosmic energy dissipate into the environment. It is also the case that soldiers are rarely given resources that don¡¯t have a focus on body enhancement. Go and cultivate now.¡±

    Back in his room, Volithur placed the vial aside and perched on his favorite meditation chair. He would be saving the sugar crystals for his wife, of course. Very soon, his mind was occupied with the effort of chaos cultivation.

    Khana did not return until after lunch, which he had missed due to his preoccupation. She happily accepted the sugar, cultivated it for fifteen minutes, and then distracted him with kisses to the neck until he came to bed for a midday romp.

    Afterwards, he resumed his cultivation with renewed vigor until dinner. He stopped by the resource vault to receive some cosmic water and returned to his room to cultivate until past dusk. At some point Khana arrived and consumed the water.

    His extra hours of cultivation, combined with skipping his domain lesson, allowed him to recuperate most of what he had lost that day using his aura so freely. He was more spendthrift the next day in combat training, which hurt his performance considerably. He took quite a serious beating and would have needed an extended period of healing if his enhanced body didn¡¯t shrug off so much of the damage. Instead, he walked away with extensive superficial bruising and the comfort of knowing he¡¯d not set his progress back.

    Another day of intense cultivation followed, bringing Volithur¡¯s energy reserves back to where they had been before his return to group classes. He spent some time considering his next move. He wanted to make a hard press for level four, yet the Marshal seemed to expect him to devote significant effort towards developing his domain skills. In the end, he decided to prioritize increasing his level. Doubling the potential strength of his domain would be helpful with the task set for him, after all.

    The days passed rapidly in most respects, yet seemed to drag on forever as the monotony of cultivation wore at him. He pushed on regardless, drawn by the lure of gaining power. Day passed after day. He took his beatings in combat training. He spent countless hours immobile while drawing in chaos. He ate rich foods. He made love to his wife.

    And, nine days after his return to group classes, Volithur finally broke through into the fourth level.