The moment he uncorked the vial, it began to tremble. Ripples jerked across the surface of that little bead of blood—as though if he didn't do something fast, it would explode.
He blinked at it, a little alarmed. Then he dumped it in his mouth and swallowed.
It rolled down his throat like a bead of ice.
There was Reina, head still on his chest, still happily asleep.
Meanwhile it felt like hot shocks were sparking down Zane's body. The droplet kept dropping down, down, down—down to the core of him.
It hit the bottom.
Then it exploded.
He shuddered. Bolts of pain shot out deep within, shooting down his core, piercing hot and piercing cold at once. It felt like the worst indigestion he'd ever had. Zane's pain tolerance was pretty good. But even he was turning a little red.
Reina seemed to be having a nice little dream. She sighed, snuggled closer into him. He blinked at her, sweating a little, trying not to groan. Sweat started beading down his face.
The first half hour was the worst of it. Then he felt that churning pain start to disperse—the blood started spreading through him. Dissolving, touching his organs first, lighting them up… and he felt so many little dull dots within—dots without essence, streaking through his whole being. Invisible until now, when they were highlighted in pools of pain. Being forced out into the open—up his throat—
He gave a little belch. A noxious black cloud left his mouth.
He frowned at it.
…Huh.
He was pretty sure that came from inside him. Something was burned away, expelled. They dispersed into the air vents, got chewed up by the runes. They blackened the ceiling where they left…
They must've been pretty toxic.
His belly did feel a lot better now, strangely. Like there'd been some pebble in his boot this whole time, but he'd grown up with it, so he'd never noticed it—until he took it out.
He felt stronger. More fresh… it was hard to describe.
It happened again half an hour later.
Then—
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝔼𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!
𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪 [𝕃𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕪] -> 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪 [𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔]
That Titan Rhino blood was still dissolving in him. It was so small—no more than a fingernail. And just a tiny fraction of that fingernail had dissolved so far…
He wondered how he'd end up when it finished.
Soon Reina woke. By then it'd faded to a pulsing throbbing pain. Less concentrated as it spread, but still pretty unpleasant. He felt it scraping him raw from the inside, literally transforming him bit by bit…
The problem was—there was a rather large amount of body to cover. He winced. It'd be a while…
"We did it," breathed Reina. She was still sleepy, smiley. She stared up at him, blinked. "Zane? …Are you okay? You look a little red."
"Fine," grunted Zane.
She yawned, did a full-body stretch like a cat, smiled at him. "We should get breakfast."
Zane nodded.
***
They had a nice meal. Strange green alien pineapples and cheese sandwiches, only with purple cheese. It tasted a lot more savory than any cheese he was used to. Avery and Evan gave them a call.
"Hi hi!" said Avery with a big grin. There were mountains in the background, as well as a lake with a glassy surface that spread on and on into the misty distance—folk were on straw boats out there fishing.
Apparently they'd made it up to the Great Lakes. Where she and Evan just cleared the big B+-ranked dungeon there. Certain creatures, especially livestock, were more prone to drops. Fishermen out there were trying to snag up some rare Spirit Trout, since they'd worn out most of their food budget fighting the dungeon.
After they cleared the Safe Zone the Faction Head there was so excited he asked Evan to give a speech. Evan agreed on the spot because Evan just agreed to things.
Then it dawned on him he was going to have to talk in front of a few thousand people—in person.
At first he wanted to curl up into a ball and roll away. But after some encouragement from Avery, and practicing in the forest on a family of squirrels, it went better than he thought—he even got a standing ovation. He almost burst into tears then; Evan relayed it all excited. He said his adventures with Zane, plus his two days spent broadcasting, made a big difference.
***
After they finished up, Zane was off to go tinker with his new treasures.
The pain had faded to a background hum. Zane was starting to enjoy it. It kind of felt like working out. It meant you were getting stronger.
He made his way to the new Warrior Dojo. He walked down the main street, where most folk went by foot—though some carriages went here and there, hauled along by stallions. Mostly luxuries for richer folk or visiting dignitaries.
They all cleared nicely out of Zane's way as he went. He walked in the shadow of vast wood-and-stone skyscrapers, colorful flowering vines crawling up their edges. The air was cool and crisp and fresh this time of day. The sun cast everything in a pleasant pastel-yellow glow. Reina had themed the place well. It felt like walking through a quaint village sometimes. A village that happened to be a city. A tamed forest. Lots of nature everywhere.
The new Warrior Dojo HQ was located in the main square, which was looking more and more like Times Square nowadays, just without all the advertising. Lots of folk here from all over the Luminous Faction's sub-Factions. The fountains were still there—they'd been expanded to include a little pond for children to splash around in.
Zane made for one edge of the square. There loomed a tower of polished stone.
Reina had built it after they upgraded the Beacon to A-Rank. It wasn't quite as swanky as Elias's, but it was better for Zane: she'd pretty much custom-built half of it just for his use. The top four floors of this skyscraper were for him only. One floor was a heavy bag room with floors and walls of B+-Rank Bamboo treasures. One was a storeroom with all kinds of recovery treasures, including a restocking fridge of A-Rank Vials of Essence.
But Zane was headed for the top floor.
An elevator shuttled him up—logs as flooring, sturdy vines as cables. It opened into darkness.
Zane stepped on through.
The air here felt delicious to breathe. Like the air at the top of some snowy mountains, an early pre-dawn air. It made thinking come much easier. But there was nothing else there. He was lost in total darkness. No smells, no touch—a sensory deprivation chamber.
This was the Comprehension Floor. A B+-ranked treasure, Pure Soul Mist, flowed through it. Treating the air, making it especially helpful for thinking, feeling. Cleansing the soul.
Zane sat down, got out his Bag of Holding, and pulled out what he was looking for.
His Tome of True Stormfire.
He cracked open the case—and light rushed out. Even as he grabbed that thick black tongue, it bucked in his hands like a wild horse. He frowned at it. It was almost like the treasure had a will of its own… he could feel it with Sage Mind nearly like a soul in there. Just a very rudimentary one.
Then he grabbed it tight. Pressed the full weight of his soul over it.
The treasure gave a shudder. It stilled.
Satisfied, Zane cracked it open. Blue-white letters shone on black pages. He couldn't make sense of any of them—
A box popped up.
𝕀, ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕖𝕣, 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕖. 𝕀𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪.
𝔸𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕖?
It was a soul contract he felt—a very simple one in terms of words. But there was something deeper written into it, a kind of intent.
When two people agreed on something, they used words to capture the intent. But both sides knew what they mean. The words were just there to spell it out and make sure there was no wiggle room.
This must be some more advanced way of writing a contract. It went past the middleman of words—it just asked Zane to agree honestly with the intent behind the words.
Zane agreed.
The pages unfurled in front of him. The letters unscrambled and pictures splashed onto the pages…
The cover page read:
𝕍𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕞𝕖 𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖: 𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝟜 𝕀𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖
𝔼𝕩𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕫𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟
ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣: ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 𝔸𝕫𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖
𝔼𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪: 𝕊𝕒𝕘𝕖 ℕ𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖
Zane turned the page.
𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟.
Underneath there was a picture, a scene. A white-haired old man standing atop a pure-black mountain. His back was to the viewer. He was staring at a watery, smoggy orange sunset…
Everywhere you looked was pitch-black. Ash and dust. Like some apocalypse had struck this place, and the old man was all that remained.
Or maybe the old man was the cause of it. Zane saw streaks of brilliant blue flickering across the horizon…
The old man turned around.
He wore robes the color of Stormfire tied with a simple hemp cord. He was tall, gaunt, proud-looking, with a white beard that went down to his waist. His face was bony, with high cheekbones—a historic face, the kind that looked like it should belong on coins.
He looked Zane straight in the eyes.
"Stormfire," said the old man. His voice was deep, slightly frayed. "Is the most explosive and destructive force known to man."
He held out one gnarled withered hand. And a ball of Stormfire erupted there. Not pseudo-Stormfire. The real thing. Every moment was little explosion, over and over.
Even through the vision, Zane could see the difference in the intensity. This old man was limiting its power—but even so, it was brighter than any Stormfire Zane had made.
The main difference was that it was solid. Substantial. Not like fire or lightning, flickering and ghostly; a ghostly aura drifted around it, but its core was one strong color.
The ashes at the old man's feet, the stones all around him, were starting to warble, grow soft under the heat of it.
"Stormfire is the foundational Element of the Azure Flame Faction. Which was named for its color," said the old man, thrusting up his chin.
"It is what I, Patriarch Azure Flame, used to carve out a dominant share of the Dragonspire Galaxy! Now, disciple. I bequeath its secrets to you."
Zane nodded, eager. He'd guessed this man was the Patriarch. He looked like an old king; he held his head like he'd never bowed it in his life.
"Before we begin!" snapped the Patriarch. "A warning. If you fear death, sudden, instantaneous death, a death that leaves no corpse for your loved ones to bury—turn back now. Stormfire is not for you! If you fear pain, the kind of pain that drives men insane—Stormfire is not for you!"
A few more warnings came after that. Zane nodded through all of them. He was waiting to hear about the Concepts.
Then came a history section.
"I did not begin down the Path of Stormfire," said the Patriarch, nostrils flaring. "At first, I was on the Path of Core Magma… I had trained it up to the Sixth Tier, Supervolcano Eruption! Then, on planet Vulcan—where I was observing its many volcanoes, to comprehend further Volcanic Concepts—I saw a thunderstorm so massive it covered half the planet. At the same time the planet's greatest supervolcano, the Devil's Maw, erupted—I witnessed purest Electricity strike purest Fire over, and over, and over… and I glimpsed within it a curious new Concept. Something far greater than Electricity or Fire alone… the concept of Plasma. That, disciple, is the first Concept on the Path to True Stormfire... and once I saw it, I knew I had to abandon my path. For what other Path could compare?"
He paused. "Only—even that first Concept proved a far greater challenge than I'd imagined..."