Chapter 13 - The End of the Three-year-long Nightmare
54th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd cycle
Newt sat in a dimly lit cave, staring at a wall he could hardly see. The jagged floor and debris bit into his butt, and the echo of a distant wind whispered into his ears.
“Was that a dream?”
Tears slid down Newt’s cheeks as he struggled for air. He was a mine slave, a wretched creature.
No!
He closed his eyes, and tried to feel his realm, and the twin pearls of fire and earth pulsating in his chest and head answered his call. Newt was in his realm, but there were changes. The first thing he noticed was that the gushing lava bursting out of the ground and into the air like a geyser had disappeared. Lava still flowed, but languidly, running down the mountainside.
The second thing Newt noticed was that the realm barrier was much, much further away.
I must have gained two or three layers.
As he gazed into the distance, the third change found him.
“Watch out, Young Master,” Newt turned towards the source of the voice, and faced a tall, muscular youth holding a staff with a small leather sack on one end.
The man was bare from the waist up, his flesh chiseled with muscles. The familiar sight failed to impress or even intimidate Newt. He could only see one thing, the sack filled with cotton to soften the blow. That sack was once his bane. No matter what Newt did, no matter how hard he tried, that sack would smack him on the face, chest, or fingers, often knocking him down to the ground.
Newt tried to dodge. He ducked, but the sack followed. With a dull thud, it smacked him square in the middle of his face. Newt fell, banging his head against the granite floor, and he awoke with a gasp.
For a moment, Newt was surprised, angry, and then he burst into laughter. “It wasn’t a dream!”
The notion of his heart demon forcing him out of meditative introspection was an unpleasant one, but the fact that he had a realm, and even heart demons, was a significant improvement in his overall state. It was proof Newt had not gone mad and imagined the entire episode with Magmin, despite his desperate situation.
Now, what should I do? Uncle had a fully expanded second realm three years ago, and I bet his heart demons have barred his advancement. I know about all his techniques, but can’t match his martial prowess regardless of what I know. I can only win through superior techniques and superior strength.
The question was, how Newt could acquire superior techniques and cultivation. The only solution he could come up with was meditation and experimentation.
I also need to grow stronger physically, and for that I need proper meals and exercise.
He picked up the pickaxe, he had plenty of opportunity for exercise, the entire mine was his practice yard, but he lacked food. Newt opened his third eye and looked around.
The dark tunnel suddenly had a faint current of light flowing through it, a weak glow shone from one point in the wall, and two ghostly stars pulsated before him. One throbbed with flames, like a fiery heart, the other surrounded by a ring of illusory dust and pebbles. The sight was magical, and Newt ignored it.
Instead, he clenched his pickaxe’s shaft and approached the luminescent patch on the wall. He heaved and struck the wall, sending a shower of rocks to the ground. The glow grew stronger, but instead of illuminating the shaft, the light turned to mist and joined the incorporeal current flowing through the tunnel system.
Two more blows revealed a spirit gem, with three more hidden a bit deeper.
Four pounds of overcooked meat, Newt thought, staring at the treasure with which a man could buy two spacious houses. He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly enraged by the injustice of it all. And yet, I need that meat more than the spiritual energy from these inferior crystals.
With a heavy sigh, he headed for the surface, hiding three gems in a nook on his way up. Like always, his jailers waited beyond the barred entrance into the mine.
Newt shielded his eyes from the torchlight and placed the rough crystal into a wooden box without a word before pushing it out.
The guards took several moments, inspecting the spirit gem. “You will have your meat tomorrow. Where have you been? You haven’t taken any bread or water for over a week.”
“Hurt my leg. Couldn’t walk,” Newt grumbled before the guards pushed a loaf of bread and a small jug of fresh water.
With food in hand, Newt realized just how starved he was. In Magmin’s secret realm, he had survived on pure spiritual energy, but without that tether, his malnourished body screamed for sustenance.
He devoured the bread like a beast and washed it down with water before wiping his mouth.
“More, give me my yesterday’s rations.”
“Shut up! Who do you think you are?” a guard Newt was unfamiliar with shouted. “We are free men, while you are a common slave. Get back into the darkness unless you want us to forget to mention the spirit gem.”
“Just try,” Newt sneered, suddenly recalling why he did not speak with the guards for over two years. “If you do that, my uncle will kill you and your families.”
“Stop it. He’s right.” the second guard said. “This is a cozy job, and we get a bonus whenever he finds a gem.”
“My food,” Newt demanded.
“Piss off,” the first guard said. “You will get more food tomorrow.”
Newt wanted to argue more, but clamped his mouth shut. The guards had eaten or taken Newt’s uneaten meal at the end of their shift. The only thing he could do was deliver all future gems to the other team of guards, not that those men were any better than the two standing at the brighter side of the bars.
Swallowing his indignation rather than food, Newt retreated down the shaft and stopped next to the place where he had hid the remaining spirit gems. He sat down cross-legged and entered meditation.
He was once more in his realm, a different place than last time, the resentful sparring partner nowhere in sight.
I can’t erect new Magmin Pines, it takes too long, but I can work on my techniques. Last time, when I wiped away the lava while earth-aligned spiritual energy infused my body, my arms felt stronger. I should try to replicate that.
Newt called spiritual energy, but immediately noticed there was no need to manipulate his realm to release the energy, since he was already inside it. Any energy he spent immediately recovered, any damage he suffered without dying regenerated in moments once the danger had passed, just like it did for Magmin.
With the unfair advantage and unlimited supply of energy, he started practicing. For warmup, he covered his skin in Granite Crust, taking the time to observe the rough scales again. They were extremely rigid, but they did not hamper his movement, thanks to their small size.
Now, what did I do? I stopped the earth-aligned spiritual energy before it reached my skin, afraid it would extinguish Magmin Scales.
Newt dismissed the technique, but kept circulating the earth energy through his body. He willed a piece of the granite ground to split and tried to lift it. At first, he sent the energy through his bones, but noticed no change in his strength. However, he nearly launched the granite slab off the ground, when he sent the earth-aligned spiritual energy through his muscles.
Newt took a moment to inspect the state of his body and found the muscles and heavy strain were crushing his bones. He changed the circulation and the energy flow through his bones and muscles, but then his tendons protested, followed by his organs.
By the time he was done with experimenting, the only thing he did not need to reinforce were his head, lungs, and heart. Newt had lost track of time, but he believed he could not have taken more than fifteen minutes to reach all the conclusions.
Next up, throwing punches. He spent half a minute, willing the slab of granite into the shape of a man and merging its legs with the ground. The statue somewhat resembled Newt’s uncle, even though the youth did not intend it. While the resemblance was unintentional, Newt did not mind such a perfect target for punching and venting his anger.
First, he transmuted just his fist into rock and struck. It was a solid blow, all the way from his legs. Rock struck rock with a boom, Newt’s wrist shattered while his elbow and shoulder popped out of place. The youth screamed, but his injuries healed within two breaths.
I need to start by always converting my whole body into granite, and see which parts I can safely ignore.
Newt was deep in thought when he heard a sudden bark.
What the—He wondered for a moment, before he realized what he was hearing. Velociraptors, his father’s hunting hounds, which terrified him when he was a toddler, were coming for him.
The granite ground shook as the bloodthirsty beasts charged towards him.
Newt’s breathing quickened, and sweat suddenly started rolling down his body. He had a phobia, a childhood trauma, and it was coming to bite him.
And there I was, laughing at poor little Magmin. He tried to chuckle, but could not. Men and beasts alike suffered from their fears.