The second fight revealed more of my potential, but it still wasn’t enough to show my limits. It was a weird feeling; I knew I was using a lot of strength –that my physical prowess surpassed what most newly advanced Journeymen should be capable of –yet it still felt like I couldn’t exhibit my full power.

In my time with Ruler Kazriel, I managed to fill and refine one Evolved – 3-Star – Ether Gate. I hadn’t modified or refined it using any special method that granted a universal augmentation, but that still made me far stronger than the average Journeyman. After all, my Evolved Gate was quite literally four to five times the size of a Journeyman’s first 3-Star Gate. Even if the subsequent Gates were larger, my first Evolved Gate was roughly equivalent to the first three ordinary Gates.

Combined with eight Wild Gates and ten Awakened Gates –all filled and connected to my weave in the same way –that foundation should have pushed me to the peak of the average Journeyman. Possibly even further, especially with four powerful traits at my disposal. So… why did I struggle so much against Orieath and my second opponent?

Pressure.

“Hmm?”

You are not pressured enough. Ruler Kazriel pushed you much more than anyone did, but he failed nonetheless.

Aureus said, but his explanation failed to explain anything.

Fight! Kill! Death!

Nox screamed in my mind, killing intent oozing from the bond. There was so much that I considered locking the Ferronox Mantis out of my mind; I might have done it if it wasn’t for the Earthheart agreeing with Nox.

That little bugger is right. You need to fight. Not a spar or the Katrak. There is no threat to your life, no opponent strong and frightening enough to force you into a life-and-death battle. You need to kill, face the threat of getting killed, and surpass the limits your body and mind forced upon you.

That was not as illogical or confusing as I thought it would be. As deadly as my “fights” with Ruler Kazriel had felt, I knew deep down he wouldn’t have killed me. He needed me at that time and only pushed me to the brink of death to force my growth.

I also knew I was stronger than my body and mind were willing to show –and that had to change.

So you want me to dive into a fight with an Unblemished beast, knowing I’ll most likely die? I inquired, opposed to the idea –yet, I thought it made sense. I wasn’t fond of the idea of fighting an Unblemished beast without proper preparation or protection in case I lost a limb or two, but if it helped me figure out my limit and wield the entirety of my strength...

It was weird to think about throwing my life away, yet actually considering doing just that was even crazier. Since when did I change so much that I thought this was normal?

You can give it a try when you finish your business here. Or you fill the last of my Ether Gates and fight Zegrath. Provoke her and make her want to kill you.

That thought kept me occupied for quite a while. Fighting an Unblemished beast –how would that be? Once I finished my second 3-Star Gate, would I be strong enough? That would be amazing! Thinking back to a year earlier, I knew I had come far. Much further than the average Blessed would reach in their lifetime. But things had changed, my worldview expanded, and I wanted more.

Maybe I was greedy, but that was fine. Who wasn’t greedy? As long as I stayed true to myself, everything would be fine.

My thoughts kept me occupied. They consumed me, and the world around me turned into a blur. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed, nor did I feel the devastating fights all around me. All I noticed was Zegrath when she approached me with one of the Spiritcaller’s people. She smiled politely, walking around the crater that must have appeared when I was busy with my own thoughts.

How did I not notice that? I asked myself, staring at the massive crater. Its epicenter was within the combat ring, but it stretched much further, disrupting the Ring of Pyrosh.

Massive destruction!

Nox hissed in my head, flooding me with images of the fight that caused all the destruction: the Scion of Space tore through the fabric of reality, destroying the arena, severing limbs with energy blades that cut through the very space of the realm, while her enemy recovered swiftly. Blazing flames burst out of the wounds, allowing the Caldera to regrow severed limbs at a visible pace. But that was not all. He was powerful –the equivalent of a Master –and his monstrous regeneration was far from his most impressive power. He was like a physical beast. Like Merlin’s Wyvern, his punches released enough force to shatter ether-infused stone several meters away.

It was terrifying, to say the least, yet I hadn’t noticed anything.

How did you see something I didn’t? I asked Nox, but Aureus answered instead.

We can see what you see. Even if your mind and thoughts distorted the world around you, your vision did not change.

That was as good of an answer as I’d get.

Show me everything that happened while I was… busy, I requested from my Soulkins, and they complied, showing me everything I should have known. After all, I’d seen it –or should have.

“Are you ready?” Zegrath asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, right, the ponds.” I nodded, recalling our earlier discussion. “Am I allowed to enter the pond?” My eyes drifted to the Spiritcaller’s aide, but the older Caldera woman’s lips remained sealed.

“Everyone can enter, but precaution is advised,” Zegrath stated matter-of-factly, but I could see that she would rather not bring me to the ponds. Not after what happened earlier. She did it nonetheless.

Following the young Caldera woman, I stepped into the main tunnel that had caught my attention the day before. An oddly familiar sensation embraced me as we stepped inside, but a friend swept into the group and broke my focus.

“Where are we going?” Orieath asked with a bright smile. I turned, half-expecting Scott and Daniel to appear at any moment, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Adam wishes to enter the ponds,” Zegrath said curtly.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Orieath’s eyebrows rose, and he looked at me, scanning me. “You want to be cleansed? But your kind cannot handle the heat of the Pyrosh as well as we do.” His eyes lit up like a lightbulb switching on. “I heard about your people’s powers. Are you connected to a fiery beast? Did you receive the power to resist the heat of the Pyrosh, Pyaera?”

He sounded a bit too excited for my taste, but I savored his interest nonetheless. It was nice to see that Orieath didn’t just call me Pyaera for no reason. He appeared genuinely invested in me and humans in general. I wanted to make things clear, ensuring he knew I didn’t have a fire-attributed Soulkin, but Zegrath stepped forward and reiterated the events of the morning.

Orieath squinted at me, his eyes screaming in confusion.

“I just want to give it a try,” I shrugged while fragments of the fiery spark and the flamelet forming in my World appeared in my mind. “Something about the Pyrosh is… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s different and pulls me closer. I want to figure out what is going on and why the Pyrosh makes me feel like that.”

Plus, I felt dirty. There were no ordinary showers in the Caldera’s home, and showering myself with a wave of ether was not enough for me. Thus, I took the next best option.

“That should be interesting. I want to see how well my Pyaera performs,” Orieath snickered. “In the worst case, Medicus Lasgha will come to your rescue.” He pointed at the Spiritcaller’s aide following us and bowed.

“I shall ensure your survival, Pyaera,” Medicus Lasgha confirmed.

My friend’s eyes bulged at that, but no more words were said until we reached the ponds. After diverting from the main tunnel, we continued our path downward until a cavern opened into a vast expanse of molten light. Lava ponds–dozens of them–spread across the floor like pools of bubbling gold. Their surfaces rose and fell with a slow and steady rhythm I couldn’t quite decipher.

The walls, too, were alive with familiar veins of brilliantly shivering lava crawling through the rock. Each pulse of heat shimmered through the air, distributing warmth and ether through the chamber, warping the world into a mirage of red and amber as the fire-attuned ether condensed. It was so dense, I didn’t have to do anything to see it.

“Marvelous,” I gasped.

If I had a fire-attributed Soulkin, I would train here all day. Honestly, even without a suitable Soulkin, I felt my pores open to the ambient ether. It burned a little as the foreign ether flowed inside me, but it was not as uncomfortable as it could have been. Absorbing and annexing fire-attuned ether without the right element did not feel right, simply because it was inefficient, yet my body and the World’s core absorbed it greedily.

The heat in the chamber felt slightly less suffocating, and I stepped forward, my attention flickering to the nearest empty pond.

“Can I enter an empty pond, or do I have to register somewhere?” My head reeled, and my feet dragged me closer to the pond.

“You may enter,” Medicus Lasgha said, so I did just that. I stripped down, stored my clothes neatly in the storage belt, and handed it over to Orieath. As little as I knew about the young Caldera, I trusted him more than the lava ponds around me. He wouldn’t melt down the storage belt, or so I hoped.

Ignoring the eyes flicking in my direction, the intense stares of dozens bearing down upon me, or Orieath joking about how similar yet different the anatomy of our races was, I stepped into the pond. My right foot submerged in the pond after a second. It was hot–incredibly so–but not as bad as it should have been. The heat was definitely more bearable than the hot stares thrown my way.

Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. I cursed myself, feeling like covering my best asset down there, but I couldn’t afford to be embarrassed or ashamed. The pond and the terrifying heatwaves smacking into my face deserved my full attention. Then again, I was also quite confident in myself and my asset; I did not have to be ashamed of anything.

Ignoring the attention, I continued my descent into the lava pond. It was hot and painful, and after only a moment, I felt like leaping out–but I endured. I forced myself to stay, shifting my focus to the World and the spark forming within. It returned–and brought another with it. Fiery sparks flashed through my inner World, yet none became a flamelet.

I consumed bits of the Pyrosh to instigate the transformation last time, right?

The feeling of lava trickling down my throat was still there. It hadn’t caused any permanent damage, as far as my limited knowledge could tell, but I was not particularly fond of filling my stomach with lava. As sacred and magical as it may be, I liked being alive.

Contradicting that thought, I fully submerged myself in the pond. Ether coated me protectively, leaving only small spots for the lava to touch me. Even then, thin layers of ether ensured I wouldn’t melt right away. The pond was warm, and the temperature continued to rise, surpassing my comfort level near instantly, yet I watched the fiery sparks gather around my World core as they flared.

A small flamelet came to be, its existence drowning all thoughts of emerging from the lava pond. The flamelet flickered and stretched outward, licking the inner World as even smaller flames flickered to life. They slithered outward, snaked through my World, and coiled around lonely golden particles swimming within it. I considered stopping the flames from consuming my soul energy but chose to watch instead when the flamelet rippled. It surged and grew explosively, only to dim when the flames shrouded the World core entirely. The flames then receded, their brilliance fading.

At the same time, something curious occurred. The Core absorbed the flames it touched and expanded. My World rippled and expanded. Ether poured into my body and World, fueling me much faster than a small ether stone could. Heat rose to the weave and, as little as I knew about the events unfolding within me, I embraced the sensation.

I committed to it wholeheartedly, only to be ripped away when a pair of steely hands burst into the lava pond. I was dragged out of the pond, the magnificent sensation taken away by force, yet I wasn’t given a moment to regain my senses and complain. Instead, unbearable waves of pain assaulted me when I least expected it.

Everything had been great a moment ago–until the smell hit me. Something was wrong–burned, maybe worse. Then the confusion faded, giving way to clarity. Every nerve screamed at once, a single note of unbearable agony that seemed to swallow everything, even the thoughts that failed to gather.

The following seconds crawled by, stretching into what felt like minutes, until the pain faded. I knew what that meant; the nerves had been burned, leaving nothing left to feel. The body was too stunned to feel anything.

Muffled noises rang in my ears, my surroundings transformed into a crimson haze, and even the sense of smell failed me. Every heartbeat felt too slow, too loud. I tried to scream, but the sound never made it past my throat. It was more of a gasp for heat that faded slowly as the world regained its color–its clarity.

My ragged gasps were no longer filled with unbearable heat, and the feeling in my body returned. Looking down, I cursed. I looked bad. The parts of my body that hadn’t been molten in the lava were charred, though there wasn’t much left to char in the first place. The flesh beneath looked disgusting–it was partially molten.

Yet, I was alive. My eyes were intact, and so was the rest of my body. This was but a physical wound, already being tended to by Medicus Lasgha. The Caldera chanted something, his words as archaic as the Spiritcaller’s. He reached out to me, his power embracing all that had been destroyed, and healed me.

As I looked at the skin that had recovered, I noticed something amiss. My half-charred hand reached to my head, only to feel nothing.

“My… hair…” I gasped, realizing the worst had just happened. I’d lost all my hair.

“That’s your problem. Really now!?” Orieath blurted out, staring at me like I’d lost it.

“Well, ehm, yeah,” I responded as my regeneration picked up. Flesh grew back and skin formed anew, but I was not quite sure if that was a good thing.

Checking my World, I caught a glimpse of the flamelet. It was still there, hovering near the core, and it did not look like it was about to disappear anytime soon.

What exactly are you? Did you help me endure the lava pond’s heat? I wondered, getting back up to my feet.

Medicus Lasgha glared at me, but I ignored him and returned to the lava pond, dipping my fingers inside. It was not as hot as before, and the flamelet flared up, almost as if it wanted me to return.

“Should I go in again?” I muttered, considering my options.

“Yep, he’s nuts. We lost him.”