Chapter 40
Moe is deep asleep when I slide out of bed in the middle of the night. I take with me a small lantern and hide behind the bench so I don’t disturb her sleep.
Excitement brims inside of me as I open the book.
The pages are rough beneath my fingers and worn at the edges. Who knows how old Aimaxion is and how many hands this book has passed through.
I flip through the pages, and I’m shocked to realize it’s not printed. it’s handwritten.
By the Seven! Did someone copy this book by hand? Or is it so old that handwriting was the only thing available?
The script is beautiful, sophisticated. Whoever wrote this must have been proficient in calligraphy.
I turn to the chapter on basic energy absorption. My eyes scan the first few lines, then slow.
Soul energy is unstable unless refined.
I pause, my fingers tightening slightly on the page.
Refined? What does that mean?
Could it be that it needs to be digested in some way?
When I consumed the energy from the embryo, I felt a certain fullness—that unless I stopped I was going to snap.
That fullness has persisted, but my abilities have not undergone a qualitative change.
Even after absorbing those two tiny soul particles, aside from accelerated healing, which is said to be inherent to my species, nothing happened.
My gaze moves to the next lines as I seek to understand how I can absorb it better.
Every energy consumed must be absorbed and integrated through specific meditations. Without meditation, the body can absorb one to two percent of the energy. With meditation, the percentage increases to thirty, forty and in some rare cases above fifty.
I nod to myself. I’d heard something similar—that every immortal has different capacities for energy. I just did not realize the percentages were so low.
Once consumed, the energy becomes an impenetrable nucleus stored in the lower dantian.
Unless the individual engages in specific meditations aimed at breaking that impenetrable nucleus and integrating it into the body, the energy ultimately becomes incompatible with the body and it disperses into the environment.
I frown. Does that mean even the energy I consumed from the embryo is as good as gone?
The nucleus of energy can be stored within the lower dantian for five to seven days before it starts dissipating unless integrated.
Relief washes through me.
I’m still within the timeframe to absorb the energy from the embryo and that from the soul.
My heart thuds in my chest as I keep reading.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I come across an introductory meditation.
The instructions are simple: perhaps far too simple.
Slow breathing. Internal awareness. Guide the energy through the meridians until it reaches an undisrupted flow.
Yet the more I stare at the words, the more I see meaning inside each letter. It’s as if whoever transcribed this knowledge did so not just with mere words, but with meaning associated with them.
If I take each letter apart, images surface in my mind.
I repeat the process a few times, letting the information flow to me as it shows me how the energy should flow too.
My hands snap the book shut and lay it by my side. ThenI start focusing on my breathing.
I inhale slowly.
The air feels heavy in my lungs, but I follow the rhythm anyway.
In. Out. In again.
My lids flutter closed as I feel every muscle twitch. With every inhale, the tension in my body dissipates. I become lighter and lighter until I can barely feel my physical body at all.
In fact, my head nearly droops to the side and I nod off. It’s only when I hit my back on the bench that I startle awake and realize what happened.
Panic overtakes me. I didn’t expect to succeed the first time but I also did not expect to fail so badly.
I need to reach internal awareness not internal dozing off.
Inhale. Exhale.
I attempt it again, but this time, when I feel that intense feeling of relaxation, I don’t give into it. Instead I channel it and empty my mind of any errant thought.
Then something happens. It’s faint at first but growing stronger.
A warmth, buried deep, almost hidden beneath everything else rises to the surface.
I focus on it, reaching for it and…
Immediately, it slips away.
I exhale and repeat the steps. At least I’m doing something good.
It takes me a few tries before I manage to hold onto that warmth.
It pulsates inside of me, growing stronger by the second. That’s when I realize it’s coming from my lower dantian.
It’s the sphere of energy!
It swirls within me, round and compact. Its outside walls seem impenetrable at first. But the more I probe into it, the more I see flickers of energy jumping out of it, as if it’s slowly disintegrating.
Realization dawns on me. To successfully integrate that ball of energy within me, I not only have to aid it in its disintegration, but also lead those particles through my meridians.
My focus is like a laser beam as I push through the tough outer layer of the sphere to reach the inside.
Time stops; or at least it ceases to flow for me as I become singleminded in my attempt to break through that layer.
And then…
It’s an explosion of sorts, but contained. The layer gives way to the nucleus. I apply the same tactic to it until all that’s left of the sphere is a myriad of tiny particles floating around. Yet they’re not moving.
They’re still there, forming a sphere, though they’re no longer connected.
Right. The last step. I must guide and disperse them throughout my body.
The memory of the way I controlled those two small particles of soul energy to come toward me flashes through my mind. Perhaps I can apply the same principle here.
One by one, I pull each particle forward, leading it toward my meridians. Once they reach my meridians, it’s like they’re swallowed by a vacuum. They flow inside them, moving throughout my body in a steady rhythm.
Sweat gathers on my brows, dripping into my eyes. A few drops get on my lips, the saltiness reaching my tongue.
To ensure no loss of energy, I must take each individual particle and guide it toward my meridians.
After a while, it becomes almost like a game of building blocks and making sure they’re laid at the best possible spot.
I have no idea how long it takes me, but I’m diligent with each particle. By the time I’m done, I’m out of breath, drenched in sweat and on the verge of passing out.
My eyes snap open and I take a big gulp of breath.
That’s just the introductory meditation.
Glancing at the book still by my side, I recall the contents page and all the different methods inside that I still haven’t tried.
Although I am so tired, it feels like I’ve run hundreds of thousands of steps, my body feels great.
In fact, it only takes a few seconds for that fatigue to clear and for the newly absorbed energy to merge with my core and become one.
My awareness sharpens, turning inward. I can feel everything more clearly now—the rhythm of my breath, the steady beat of my heart, the faint hum of energy moving through me.
Everything is so clear.
My hearing is so attuned to everything around me, I can hear every sound within a hundred step radius—the way specks of sand are moved by the wind, or the even breaths of the other competitors as they sleep in their quarters.
My vision too is much improved. The light is dim, but I see everything as clear as if it were thoroughly illuminated by a large source of light.
All my senses seem to have been augmented.
Perhaps now they’re on the same level as Moe’s.
For an immortal, this isn’t that great, but it’s a start.
I should have gained these abilities thousands of years ago.
In fact, considering I only recently opened my meridians and only absorbed a little energy—albeit strong from the embryo and pure from the soul—I managed to do what others do in one year in only a few days.
That alone makes me feel quite pleased with myself.
My body feels the changes, too.
The tension that once clung to my muscles has eased. The lingering pain has dulled to something distant, almost insignificant. The last remnants of the injuries I incurred during my fight have now completely healed. There are no scars left behind.
Finally, my healing has reached its optimal state.
I can still be injured, quite critically so. If during a fight my energy reaches low levels, my healing will be much slower. It only takes one deadly blow then to bring about my death.
Damn it! I must grow stronger, still.
I move my hand and my fingers respond instantly, without delay, without resistance. My legs, too and all my toes. My reflexes seem to be immediate.
I’m not sure how my speed and strength have changed yet, but I’m so curious I can’t help but tiptoe my way out of the room and into the wilderness.
The first thing I do is to run at full speed towards the area where the obelisk had been at yesterday. Though it’s no longer there, my progress is visible.
Whereas yesterday it took us nearly twenty minutes to reach that area, now I can do it in half that time.
My strength too is so much different than before. I can even lift a boulder.
I’m running around like a madman as I push my newly found abilities to the maximum.
Despite this clear improvement, I’m nowhere near level one.
I purse my lips, a little annoyed but trying to tell myself that with how I’ve grown in the last few days, it shouldn’t take me too long to reach the much desired level one—and finally get a domain all of my own.
Wistfully, I look forward to it.
I need to check out a book on domains next, since I only know about a few of them.
A terrified scream jolts me out of my thoughts.
I look around but don’t see anything or anyone. Still, the sound persists. I follow that pained cry to an area right behind a row of broken columns.
A female backing away toward the root of a broken column. Four males dressed in all black, with their faces covered to hide their identities, advance toward her.