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Rise of the Archon: Book 2, Chapter 84
🕑 Added 2025-09-04 04:05:46 +0000 UTCI allowed myself three days to rest and recover. It strained every ounce of patience I had, but I knew it was the wisest course of action. My mana was too unstable for any precision work, and I was still concerned about some hidden strain or injury to my body.
That didn't mean I was idle, of course. I spent hours every day meditating to reduce the twisting mass in my core. When I wasn't focused inward, I was going over my notes, running through the details of my ritual, and searching for any flaws and shortcomings that had revealed themselves.
I needed to know what went wrong and what I could improve for the future. Now that I had discovered at least one means of infusing my body with mana seemingly safely, I was intent on repeating it both for myself and for future mages.
Of course, I also spent time trying to uncover what had changed with my familiar bond. I could still sense a strange not-mana flowing into me from Fortunatus, but hadn't made much progress in identifying the energy. I was reasonably sure it wasn't dangerous, but that didn't change much of my concerns.
Finally, on the fourth day, my patience broke.
I began with some stretching exercises, followed by a basic warm-up. My flexibility was only marginally improved, which wasn't unexpected.
I began my tests with some stretches and warm-ups. My flexibility was only marginally improved, but I found that the quick movements that might have gotten my blood pumping before felt too easy. I decided to press on to my calisthenics, and it was here that I began to see notable changes.
Sigmund had taught me a variety of moves, from push-ups and sit-ups to squats, pull-ups, handstands, dips, and a mixture of strange, flowing stances and steps. They were all designed to strain strength, agility, coordination, balance, and endurance almost equally. I had grown used to them enough to begin altering each movement, adding variants to increase the difficulty and continue improving.
Over the months, my improvements had come more and more slowly. It might take weeks to eke out notable growth, which was a challenge all on its own. Now, I was faced with a new concern.
I couldn't make them challenging.
Just a week prior, I could manage about fifteen pull-ups in a row. I considered that impressive considering my age and build, but far from remarkable. Sigmund could do twice as many with seemingly less difficulty.
Now, I hung from a branch about eight feet from the forest floor. I had done twenty and felt I could do at least twenty more.
I paused for a moment, then released one hand. Slowly, I pulled myself up until my chin peeked over the branch, holding the position for a second before lowering back down. The entire motion was more difficult, but it should have been impossible. I'd never managed more than a handful, and certainly not with this level of ease partway through a workout.
"Incredible," I muttered, repeating the motion with about as much ease.
I let out a low breath, then released my grip and fell to the grass and dirt below. The drop wasn't particularly far, but I still knew I should've felt some kind of impact. Instead, it was as if I'd stepped off a low stool.
It was hard to measure, but I'd estimate I was several times as strong as before, with comparable improvements to my stamina. Other traits, such as speed, reflexes, and senses, weren't as readily evident, but I saw no reason not to expect at least some enhancements there as well.
And most remarkably of all, this was without magic. What would it be like if I pushed mana into my body?
I paused for a moment, then reached inward and pulled on my Aether. It surged through me like a raging current, barely following my commands and spilling out of my body in waves. If not for my strengthened channels, it might have hurt.
Instead, I marveled at the complete and utter lack of strain. Not only was the energy flowing through my channels without even a hint of stress, but it seemed to move through my flesh and bones just as easily. Had my ritual somehow...altered the conductivity of my body?
I warred with myself before making a decision. Slowly, I began increasing the volume of Aether flowing through me. I doubled it, then re-doubled it, feeling my strength grow second after second. When I reached my limit and the spell teetered on the edge of my control, I tensed my legs, crouched, and pushed off.
Branches smacked against me as I shot up and through the branches overhead. My leap carried me easily fifteen feet into the air, a jump that would've been challenging even with my Flicker Step spell. I hung there for a moment, then fell back to the forest floor and landed without so much as a stumble.
I looked up at the sky, then glanced at the forest floor before kneeling and picking up a stone about the size of my fist. It was a round, smooth thing worn by the passage of time. I gathered mana in my hand, then squeezed.
The stone held for only a moment before cracking into pieces. I allowed them to spill through my fingers and stood once more, brushing my hands off against my shirt.
I smiled, releasing my mana even as possibilities blossomed in my mind. While my strength and speed were still far below what that invader had demonstrated in my vision, I had closed the gap. Still, there was much to do and only a few weeks left until my deadline.
After a quick meal, I moved on to the next part of my training. The cautious part of my mind whispered warnings, but I pushed past them. Growth came from straining against my limits, a lesson I had relearned just days earlier.
First, I reached into my core and began tugging at the Aether within. As with my Arcane Body, it resisted my call at first, and I was reminded of those first few weeks trying to control my magic.
It took me longer than I would've liked to draw a few streams down my arms and towards my hands. I began gathering them into the familiar form of my dagger, but paused before I could truly begin. My plan had been to create a new blade using my Cloud mana, testing both the enhanced durability of my constructs and my idea of imbuing intent at once.
But as I considered the depth of my Aether, I decided to change my plans. After all, I didn't use a dagger, did I?
I pushed my awareness back into my core, pulling more energy out and into my mental 'grip'. The mana bucked and rebelled, and it took more willpower than I had used in months to control it. Thankfully, I had long since developed the focus to push forward without losing hold.
It took me several minutes, but a shape began to form above my outstretched hands. I watched as the hazy cloud of Aether resolved into a haft and point, separated by a somewhat indistinct crossguard. The blade was extended like a shortsword, long enough to punch through armor but short enough to remain feasible in confined spaces.
As I molded the mana, I tried to imbue the weapon with my 'intent.' This was the most challenging part, and something I knew would take months to master, but there was no better time to start than now.
I imagined in my mind's eye an edge clad in Aether, forming a phantasmal blade of raw power. This would turn a simple spear into something infallible and unstoppable, a weapon that could slice through any defense.
This was something I had tried in the past, and had decided prior to the ritual that this was the best course of action. I expected it to fail utterly, partially due to inexperience and partially due to my mana's instability.
Instead, something unexpected happened. Intent sank into the nascent blade, merging with the Aether. I felt something shift. It was a change I couldn't quite describe, but sensed on an intuitive level.
Minutes passed as I carefully compressed and stabilized the spear while maintaining the proper shape. This was difficult enough, but doing so while focusing on my intent and drawing enough mana from my core to keep the blade intact was another order of magnitude. It was like trying to look in two directions at once, and I knew it would take years to perfect the skill.
I felt the moment when my mana stabilized. The stream flowing from my core and into the weapon cut off, and I slumped forward. Sweat poured from my forehead, and a mild headache had made itself known at some point. Despite that, I had only eyes for the object that had fallen to the grass before me.
It wasn't remarkable at first glance. The weapon was almost identical to my current spear, but made entirely of green mana. I could see faint differences in coloration between the blade, guard, and shaft, with the shaft being the darkest of the three, but otherwise, it appeared unremarkable.
First, I ran through a few basic tests and found there were no catastrophic flaws in the weapon. It was barely stable, and I estimated it would last a day or two at most, but that was enough to do some experimentation.
An impulse struck me, and I picked up the spear before walking to the nearest tree. Then, I flowed mana up the shaft and into the blade. I decided to use a minimal amount of power to start with, erring on the side of caution.
There was no visible effect, in part due to the midday sun overhead. Soon, though, I noticed a change. There was faint, deep green mist clinging to the edge of my spear. I shifted the weapon, examining it from another angle before increasing the volume of Aether flowing through the weapon.
Slowly, the mist resolved into a more distinct shape. It took the form of a somewhat hazy but clear 'shell' around the tip of my spear, like a phantom blade clinging to the outside of its physical counterpart.
I moved the spear from side to side, noting that this phantasmal blade remained stable despite the movements. It looked like a mist, but carried with it a strange depth and weight that no natural gas should demonstrate. Moreover, I could sense some echo of my intent within it. It wasn't an enchantment, necessarily, but struck me as close.
Ideas and questions rose in my thoughts, but one loomed the largest. I shifted my grip on the spear, planting my feet as I faced the tree head-on. Then, in a single, smooth motion, I stepped in hard and drove my spear into the trunk.
The spearpoint cut through the tree as though carving silk, sending out a spray of bark and sap on the opposite side of the trunk. I felt only a hint of resistance and stumbled forward only to catch my footing after a half-step. The benefits of my transformation continued to reveal themselves.
I released my grip on the shaft and stepped back, leaving my spear skewered into the tree. My strike had torn a fist-sized hole in the wood, which was...well, far beyond what I had expected. I knew my strengthened Aether and my experiments on binding intent to constructs should produce results, but this?
It was...well, exciting, of course, but also alarming. I had done this in only a few months with only a handful of half-cobbled together ideas. What could be possible in one year? What about in five or ten? And what if I had access to the Sion family's secrets?
I pushed aside those fantasies as I reached out with my will and pulled on the Aether within the spear. It tore free and smacked into my open palm, looking none the worse for wear. I could sense that the construct had lost stability, but not enough to risk complete degradation.
When I was satisfied it wouldn't break apart on me, I began pushing Aether through it again.
I had two weeks in which to perfect my weapon. And when I did, that drake would die. I had made a promise, after all, and I had no intention of breaking it.
Comments
Raymond Mouton
Thanks for the chapter.
