After quickly devouring a mountain of potatoes—a request the servants had fulfilled with bemused efficiency—I felt replenished, my body humming with renewed energy, ready to tackle the next monumental step.
However, something had been bothering me. I caught Arthur staring, his golden eyes flicking between me and the empty, cavernous pot.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Arthur seemed momentarily dumbfounded by the sheer volume I'd consumed. He shook his head slowly, a wry smile touching his lips. "Nothing of consequence. Are you prepared for the next trial?"
I gave a firm nod.
"The formation of a mana core is not so different from creating a mana heart. The principles are the same: absorb, circulate, refine. But instead of settling the energy at your heart, you will anchor it in your dantian—the center of power located just below your navel." He pointed toward my lower abdomen.
"I should also clarify," he added, "the method of circulating mana I've shown you is known as a mana breathing technique. Absorb, circulate, refine. You must practice it daily—while walking, resting, even sleeping. It is the foundation upon which all else is built."
I understood perfectly. In every story, cultivation was the bedrock of power—a constant, mindful practice that enhanced every aspect of a warrior or mage's being.
Yet, I couldn't help but marvel at the complexity of this world. In the tales I'd read, protagonists often awoke with the innate ability to blend magic and martial arts. Here, it was a deliberate, perilous construction. The difference was fascinating.
"Now, let me outline the process," Arthur said, his playful demeanor vanishing, replaced by the stern focus of a surgeon. "First, I will guide a thread of mana to your dantian so you can locate it precisely. You will then replicate the path yourself. Second, you must concentrate the gathered mana there and forge it into a stable core. This requires absolute focus. Any lapse means failure." His eyes grew grave. "But the true danger begins after the core forms. You will have two power sources in your body—the mana heart and the mana core. Initially, they will be like rival kings, each trying to claim your body as its sole domain. They will clash. If you cannot stabilize them and force a balance, the result is death… or a crippled existence."
I swallowed hard, the reality of the risk settling like a stone in my gut. "So that's why the dual path is considered suicidal…"
The image was clear: two hungry, magical entities fighting for the same nourishment, creating violent, internal chaos. Maintaining that balance wasn't a one-time feat; it would be a lifelong, precarious vigil. One misstep could mean my body tearing itself apart from the inside.
"Good, you comprehend the stakes," Arthur said. "To resolve this inherent conflict, we must forge a connection between your mana heart and your mana core."
"Huh? How?"
"The 'how' is less important than the 'when'," he replied. He opened his palm, and two golden holograms materialized: one a heart encircled by a ring, the other a pulsating sphere. "The moment your core fully forms, the clash will begin." As he spoke, the two holograms erupted, their energies violently repelling each other. "Agonizing pain will feel as if you're being disemboweled by your own power. Be ready. In that moment of conflict, you will have a fleeting window to establish a link. You must circulate both energies simultaneously, synchronizing them, guiding them toward each other until they form a stable bridge."
"What? Control both at once? That sounds impossible!" The task seemed ludicrous, especially for someone who'd been a mage for less than a day.
Arthur chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "It is impossible for most. But with my guidance, you have a chance. The dual circulation works on a double loop: mana pumps from the heart through the body to the core, then from the core back through the body to the heart. Simple, yes?"
That is not simple at all. I frowned at Arthur's explanation. From what he said, it is basically like the double circulatory system where the blood gets pumped by the heart twice but in this case I have two hearts.
"This connection is not a suggestion; it is a necessity for survival. The two sources must work in harmony, as one entity. If, for example, refined mana from your heart flows into your core and they are not 'in agreement,' the result is instantaneous, catastrophic mana poisoning."
I sighed, the weight of it all pressing down. "It sounds incredibly complicated."
"Having second thoughts?"
"Nope," I said, shaking my head, my resolve hardening. "Let's do it."
Without further delay, we assumed our positions. I sat in meditation, and Arthur placed a steadying hand on my back, his touch cool through the fabric of my shirt.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the familiar inner darkness.
Arthur's mana entered me once more—a silver thread of flawless control. It traced the now-familiar pathways before settling with pinpoint accuracy in the space below my navel. "Now, it is your turn."
I obeyed. Drawing upon my own gathered energy, I guided it through the intricate map of my body, completing the circulation before pooling every ounce of it into my dantian. At first, the mass of energy was clumsy, a wobbly sphere that leaked wisps of power. But with painstaking focus, I compressed it, smoothed its edges, until it became a perfect, humming sphere of condensed potential, spinning steadily in the center of my being.
"Excellent. Now, apply pressure. Concentrate. Force it to take its final, solid form!" Arthur's voice was a lash of command.
I did as instructed, bearing down with my will upon the spinning sphere. Sweat beaded on my brow and soaked my back. Then, a strange sensation bloomed in my stomach—not pain, but a peculiar, fluttering vibration.
"I feel… something funny," I murmured.
Arthur heard me. "That's the catalyst! Focus on it! Now!"
I zeroed in on that strange vibration, increasing the mental pressure. The sphere of mana spun faster and faster, compressing under the strain, until something fundamental shifted.
There was no sound, but a deep, resonant HUM vibrated through every cell in my body, a chill of pure power skating down my spine.
Then came the wave: a refreshing, cool clarity that erupted from my dantian and washed through me. I felt a new presence there—a second, rhythmic pulse alongside my heartbeat. Looking inward, I saw it: a small, radiant sphere the color of freshly spilled blood, pulsating with vibrant life.
"I did it!" The shout of triumph was ripped from my throat.
"Don't celebrate yet!" Arthur barked, cutting my joy short. "We are not finished!"
His warning came a second too late.
A horrific, grinding pain exploded from my core. It wasn't the clean hurt of a wound; it was a visceral, gnawing agony, as if my own life force was being devoured.
"ARGHHHH!" I screamed, my body convulsing.
Boom! Boom!
Internal detonations rocked me. I felt tissues tear, capillaries burst. A hot tear of blood traced a path from the corner of my mouth.
The powers are clashing.
"Focus, Young Master! I will support you, but you must guide them! Make them bond!" Arthur's voice was iron, but I could hear the strain beneath it. A warm, stabilizing flood of his mana poured into me, desperately trying to patch the ruptures inside.
I gritted my teeth, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. My first instinct was to handle one energy at a time—subdue the heart's mana, then the core's. I tried to grasp the heart's energy.
BOOM!
Another violent eruption shredded something deep within me. I coughed, a spray of crimson staining my clothes. Fuck, it hurts!
"No! Not separately!" Arthur's command was frantic. "Together! You must move them together! I know you can!"
Biting my lip until I drew more blood, I forced my screaming consciousness to split its focus. In my mind's eye, I imagined two hands—not my physical hands, but hands of pure will. One reached for the raging, solar warmth of the mana heart. The other grasped the fierce, volcanic pulse of the new core. Come on, you bastards. I didn't come this far to die here.
They resisted, thrashing against my grasp like wild beasts. I poured every ounce of my desperation into the effort. MOVE!
And they did.
Slowly, agonizingly, I began to guide them. The heart's energy flowed down through my meridians toward the core. Simultaneously, the core's energy surged upward toward the heart. It was a battle of excruciating concentration, my mind fraying at the edges. I felt myself teetering on the brink of collapse.
The two rivers of power traveled their opposing paths, and after what felt like an eternity of struggle, they met.
Another explosion resonated through me.
My first, despairing thought was, Did I fail?
But the expected tsunami of pain never came. Instead, a wave of pure, undiluted euphoria crashed over me. It was a sensation of perfect, crystalline harmony—like the first, blissful bite of ice cream on a scorching day, but a thousand times more profound. A deep, resonant peace settled into my bones.
Arthur's eyes, watching intently, widened. A brilliant, astonished smile spread across his face. He's actually doing it! When Alexandra had first confided Lucas's ambition, Arthur had been deeply skeptical. The historical fatality rate was near-total. But her faith, combined with the boy's unprecedented dual affinities, had swayed him. He'd vowed to pull Lucas back from the brink of death if necessary. Now, witnessing the impossible unfold before him, that vow was rendered obsolete. He was watching a fifteen-year-old achieve in hours what took seasoned adepts decades of research and perilous trial. What a monster…
The feeling was transcendent. All internal wounds knitted themselves shut in an instant. I felt complete. The two energies now moved in a beautiful, synchronized double-loop: heart to body to core, core to body to heart. My body thrummed with newfound, integrated strength. The rate at which I pulled mana from the air skyrocketed. My senses, already sharp, became preternaturally acute.
I fucking did it!
I opened my eyes. The world had been repainted in hyper-definition. I could see the individual veins on a leaf a hundred yards away. I could hear the rustle of a field mouse in the undergrowth. And my sense of smell…
I frowned.
An appallingly foul odor assaulted my nostrils—a stench of rotten eggs and decayed matter, overpoweringly strong and sickeningly close. Did Arthur…?
I snapped my head around, but he was gone.
"I'm up here, Young Master. And congratulations." Arthur's voice came from above.
I looked up. He was perched on a high branch of the willow tree, looking down, his fingers delicately pinching his nose. "Thank you, but… why are you up there? And what is that god-awful smell? Is that you?" I asked, covering my own nose with my sleeve.
"Me? I'm wounded you'd suspect me," he said, though his eyes danced with amusement. "Allow me to offer a clue: look at your own body."
"What are you—" I glanced down and froze.
I was covered from neck to ankle in a thick, viscous, tar-like substance. It was the source of the horrific stench. As I moved, I felt it crackle against my skin.
Ah. The impurities. Of course. A profound bodily metamorphosis often expelled the accumulated toxins and waste of a lifetime. My successful dual cultivation had just given me the world's most disgusting detox.
"Ugh, this is revolting. I need a bath. Immediately."
As I staggered to my feet, preoccupied with my newfound, foul state, I remained utterly unaware of the silent observer hovering high above.
Concealed by a subtle bending of sunlight, Empress Alexandra floated, her crimson dress fluttering softly in the high breeze. Her intense red eyes were fixed unwaveringly on the figure below, a complex, unreadable emotion flickering in their depths.
*********
The solar description of mana core is just for description, it does not mean he possesses solar power if anyone is confused:)
Thank you once again for the collections and from now one, this is the time I will be updating every single day and on friday, I might not update because I will be travelling.