I quickly put down the mace and brought out the generator from the basement. Going up back, I got more paper on the rollers and rolled up the stone. Now was the moment of truth. If aether was affected and transformed through vibrations, then monster materials like the silk I used in the generator would also cast a vibration out.

  I poured aether in the generator and let the stone drop. The generator hummed, its characteristic electric buzz filled the air and soon the quill shook, its tip swinging over the paper and inscribing the waveform on the moving paper. I took out the sheet and went inside.

  With Magnar too tired to do anything today and the kiln still fired up I had nothing else to do, besides perfecting the polish of the mace and meditating.

  After storing the recording in my room upstairs, I went back down and started polishing the mace again. As I was approaching the end, a small drop of sweat rolled down my chin and fell onto the mace. It beaded off, rolling down and dropping on the ground. Near mirror-like surfaces weren’t just beautiful.

  Getting that sort of polish on a rounded surface however… Wasn’t amongst the things that I’d call fun. By the time the mace was done the sun was already rolling down the sky. It was too late to go sell the mace. So, I did the only other thing I had planned.

  I sat down next to my bed. The air was already starting to make my skin crawl in the tower too, even with all my efforts to warm it up with aether every night. It was mandatory that I changed and added doors. Luckily this pouring session was fruitful.

  I now had solid, real hinges to use. ‘I still need to polish them, or they’d screech louder than a girl realizing she’s watched by a creep in a movie, even if I used lubricants on them.’ I settled my mind thinking of this.

  Deep slow even breaths. It still felt weird to do full abdominal breathing, even after four years of being capable of it in this body, it shouldn’t be, I was a kid, my body was supposed to adapt fast, and yet here I was, feeling weird each time I started.

  I sunk my consciousness inwards and once again focused on the array. I broke it. I didn’t want to raise suspicion from others. If aether just swarmed me continuously, then anyone would realize something was up. The trouble it would bring wasn’t worth it.

  I enveloped the shard in my intent, and moved them, reforming the weak version of the array. My own aether rippled, a wave going down my flow, exiting the body and spreading around. The worlds aether started converging and my aetheric intake grew.

  A fuzzy warmth spread through my body as the speed of the aether flowing through me increased. I frowned internally. This is not what cultivation stories would say would happen… This array… it wouldn’t help me in my cultivation at all!

  ‘Damn it. This increases recovery speed only… I still have to twist the flow myself… And it dampens my grasp on aether, less of it gets attuned to me by my jing.’ It was like a faucet. The stronger the water jet, the harder it was to control the water coming out.

  I could still control it, but fine tuning or delicate usage was impossible. I sunk my consciousness in the flow of aether, feeling like a man drowned deep in a snowstorm.

  I peered at my jing and smirked internally, my eyes shining. ‘At least this!’ I watched on as the rapid flow of aether stirred the red-ish energy. The color was growing fainter, sign that I assigned to purification. My jing was interlocked with the flow of aether, grew, filling me with a sense of fullness, as if I just ate.

  I sat feeling the change propagate through my being. Slowly, new, purer qi formed then as a small drop in the ocean, my consciousness grew sharper. The natural cycle of growth in the body. Something anyone could experience in a grosser way.

  Food is turned to jing. It can be seen as the base of everything in the energetic body. As food is processed and nutrients are burned, qi forms. The energy from food fuels everything, including the brain. Anyone can see that by changing the diet and by eating regularly, they will feel stronger and have their minds cleared.

  Aether played in my case a more subtle role of allowing me to go without food for at most a week without losing muscle, while water was still very much mandatory. I focused on the transformations for a bit longer, then brought my mind out of the flowing river.

  I let this aether gathering formation going, slightly changing it, each time analyzing whether there was an increase in its efficiency or not. Each time I found a new configuration that didn’t change efficiency I would quickly memorize it.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  This way, if I ever got stuck, I could back track to one of these and try another path. After a number of attempts and managing to inch closer to my target, I went to sleep, rolling in exhausted. I hugged the mattress as I made myself comfortable and slipped into sleep.

  Next day I had a bad morning start. I couldn’t get what the hell was wrong with my greeting stance! I placed my left leg forward, bent my right hand behind my back and my left hand in front, whilst keeping a straight back and a forward look.

  Then I bent my legs, a little, mimicking kneeling, a slight bow from the back, focused on the upper part of the body, and brought my chin down a little. A simple stance, simple rules.

  “Again!” The professor spoke up.

  I repeated the motions for the twentieth time.

  “No, no, no. You do it like this!” She demonstrated the curtesy once more, then commanded. “Again!”

  I was saved by the class end from the torturous repetition. I was doing every motion precisely as she demonstrated, yet I was still made to repeat it again and again.

  Next classes were better, uneventful even. With the classes out of the way, I rushed to Master Heston’s place with the mace. ‘This one has to net me some good money, it was the second strongest materials I bought…’

  I ran through the city, avoiding the people with quick side steps. Once again, gazes gathered on me. People turned their heads to look after me, as my upper body was maintained at the same height throughout the run. This gave me some safety while holding the mace. Were my body to bob, its pointy spines would scratch or pierce my skin.

  I found master Heston enjoying a drink on his rocking chair again. Although I considered myself lucky for it, I was also embarrassed to disturb him on his rest day. Yet there was nothing I could do. I needed money for my next project and to complete my winter preparations. Each day I waited, would be a day in which the prices grew.

  “Good afternoon, master Heston. I hope I find you in good health!” I excitedly spoke up.

  “Good day to you to, kiddo! I see you brought in quite the… Unusual craft coming from you.” His eyes wandered on the mace, from its sharp spines to its sturdy ergonomic handle. “I thought you were specialized in blades.”

  “I can’t say I have a specialty… I do anything I feel like it.” I pause a little, thinking of how to explain it. “I just go with what I can instinctively do at that moment. I plan ahead, but if I get an idea and feel strongly about it, then I will see to bringing it into reality.”

  “That’s an interesting way of approaching things.” He reached out, extending his hand, and I handed over the mace, warning him.

  “It grows a lot in weight when you pour in aether, and it locks the hand in place… If you’re not careful it can break your wrist.” I talked fast, to prevent any accidents.

  “You worry for nothing, kid, I handled more weapons than you saw in your life.” He chuckled softly as his fingers curled around the grip of the handle.

  Master Heston stood up as he picked the mace. He tried to balance it but frowned as he felt the slipping mass. He shook the mace. A soft shifting sound with a metallic after-tone rang out.

  “This is… weird… Why is it filled with loose stuff?” He shook the mace once more. He let the mace fall to the side after, planning to catch it by the handle. I didn’t manage to say anything.

  A loud thwack rung out, together with a soft crack as the mace didn’t bounce. I looked filled with surprise at master Heston’s, whose hand wasn’t oddly bent. He raised the mace and looked at his hand. He clenched it and hissed in pain, his face scrunching up.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I've cracked the bone in my palm, right behind the middle finger; it stings a little… Is the filling creating a second strike?”

  “Yes… It’s a dead-blow weapon. All of the hit stays in the hit. Nothing bounces back in the hand. I made it this way as an experiment, but it turned out to pair perfectly with the effect that the bones give…”

  “Oh?”

  “The weight increase… If it was done any other way, the handle could snap, and the bearer would have to bear the echo of his own strike. This weapon has no such thing, so there’s less danger too.”

  “Hm… Interesting.” Said master Heston while rubbing his chin. “Let me get the dummy.” He put down the mace, letting its handle rest on the rocking chair. I waited a little, until he returned with a scarecrow dressed in armor.

  “Here. Let me just see how effective this is.” He spun the mace above his head, a smooth motion born of wrist and elbow. Aether coursed through him, and the speed of the spin increased. Aether poured in the weapon as he brought it down on the helmet.

  The spikes of the mace kissed the helmet, penetrated it, then the rounded body hit and made the metal sink inward. With a groan and a loud snap, the support of the dummy snapped. The now headless dummy was left in the dust from a simple hit.

  “This was like swatting a fly! Remarkably no recoil, I didn’t even feel the impact!” He caressed the mace softly, as if it was a precious child. “So, you’re here to sell this.”

  “Yes!”

  “I’d recommend you keep it. It’s hard to find another one like this.”

  “I can make another; I have the materials… But I don’t plan to use it, and I got other plans for my friends… This has served its purpose to me.” I replied calmly, filled with conviction.

  “Twenty gold coins.”

  “That’s a lot…”

  “What do you mean? It’s a third-grade weapon! Your refining broke through too, congratulations.

  “That makes sense then… It’s a deal, thank you!”

  He went inside and returned without the mace, holding a pouch of gold. I took it and counted the money. Stray rays of sunlight reflected of the coins and onto my face, casting a golden radiance. This was my capital!

  “Thanks again. Hope you find a buyer soon!” I left happily.

  “Bring a new one next time!” He shook his head. “That kid… Is he really forging these himself?” He sat back down in his chair and took a sip of his wine. “Let’s see what he brings next time.”

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