Path of Dragons

Book 7: Chapter 15: Spires



Book 7: Chapter 15: Spires

Book 7: Chapter 15: Spires

Elijah opened his eyes, and though he hadn’t slept a wink, he felt just as refreshed as if he’d had a full night’s rest. However, he also felt sore – almost like he’d run a marathon the day before – but in a way that went deeper than his muscles. More importantly, he felt that his core had expanded by a miniscule amount. It was far from enough to prepare him to make the jump to the next tier, but it was a good sign for the near future. After all, according to Biggle, the Will of Iron was supposed to increase the efficacy of his core cultivation by a significant degree, so he hoped that it would help push him over the edge.

Still, he worried that it wouldn’t be enough, which was why he intended to wait until the cultivation cave had returned to peak ethereal density before he gave it a try. Even if he couldn’t make enough progress with the Will of Iron, it wasn’t like it would be for naught. The benefits would remain, and he’d be that much closer to his goal.

Even so, he hoped to finish it in one go. Not only was he impatient for whatever gains awaited him, but he could also feel his time ticking away. Already, it had been a week since his return from the Trial of Primacy, and he knew just how quickly the remaining days would pass. He needed to remain focused, or he’d never do the things he needed to do.

For now, though, he needed to devote as much time as possible to core cycling. So, he sank back into meditation, letting the blanket of nature’s presence wrap around him as he slowly drew ethera into his core. Once it was there, he leveraged his willpower upon the cloud of swirling energy within him, compacting it as much as possible. Then, he drew more in. And more after that. He continued to repeat the same process until his core was full to bursting with ethera so dense that it was practically solid.

Then, bit by bit, he released his hold, letting it expand. It pushed against the bounds of his core, widening it ever so slightly with every passing second. It was like a balloon that had been filled to bursting, and he knew just how careful he needed to be in order to keep it from doing just that.

He didn’t know the consequences for a broken core, but he expected it would not be pleasant. Likely not deadly, given that none of his guides had mentioned it, but he knew it would be detrimental. At best, he’d have to rebuild it bit by bit. At worst, the guides had neglected to mention deadly consequences because the writers had simply assumed that no one would be stupid enough to push things that far.

Either way, Elijah had no intention of finding out.

With as much care as he could muster, he continued to cycle, and when the core was as full as it could be, he pushed the excess ethera away. Doing so was painful, and it felt like every pore was spewing boiling acid, but Elijah endured it without even a grimace. One moment of lost control would be catastrophic.

Minute by minute, he continued the process until, at last, he’d exhausted his willpower. When he let his focus lapse and opened his eyes, he was assaulted by bright sunlight and a foul stench that smelled like mingled sweat and burning rubber. To call it unpleasant would have been a massive understatement.

Elijah had expected it, though.

Because the process of cycling wasn’t only meant to train his core, but also to purify it. Apparently, metaphysical gunk tended to build up within a core – kind of like a drainage pipe – and each stage was meant to be a fresh start. The stuff covering his body – which resembled nothing so much as orange-tinted petroleum jelly – was the physical representation of those contaminants.

“Gross,” he muttered. He knew it was a necessary part of cultivation, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to enduring it hundreds of times before he was ready to move forward.

In any event, with his willpower wrung out, he headed to his treehouse where he spent quite some time scrubbing himself clean. Thankfully, his homemade soap was more than up to the task, though he did see that he was running distressingly low on the stuff. Soon, he’d need to make more, though doing so would necessitate finding more fat to render. And if he wanted the best results, it would need to come from a powerful creature.

He’d tried to take some fat from the abyssal monster he’d killed back in the Trial of Primacy, but it had been far too tainted for his uses. And the beasts of ka’arath weren’t powerful enough. So, he expected he’d need to spend some time on the hunt.

Maybe now that the Communication Network was available, someone could point him in the right direction. For now, though, he just needed to keep an eye out.

As he showered, he paid attention to his domain, and he noticed that Carmen had once again foregone sleeping in the house Nerthus had grown for her. That was another thing he needed to monitor. His sister-in-law was almost as prone to obsessiveness as he was, and that meant she would work herself to death if someone didn’t remind her to take a step back and breathe.

But he had no intention of doing that himself. A quick word to Miguel would suffice. Let him brave his mother’s ire.

“And you’ll be able to create your own teleportation network then?” Elijah asked.

“Yes!” Wilhelm answered excitedly. “Of course, one of the Spatial Wizards will need to come here to operate it, but that is no problem for such a large and powerful organization. Why are you here, if I may ask?”

“Just checking up on you,” Elijah answered. The truth was that he was incredibly interested in the notion of a non-Branch teleportation network. Other worlds had them, and he knew that most people preferred to travel by those means, largely because of the incredible cost of using the Branch’s Teleportation Network. Even Elijah needed to be careful about that large of an expenditure.

In short, the so-called Conclave was a big deal, and if they could do what they planned, it would absolutely change the face of the world. And Elijah wanted to get in on the ground floor. Not as an investor, but rather as a guide of sorts.

“Once you finish here, I want to take you back to Argos,” Elijah said. “You’re going to build one of these Spires there. I want it to become a trade hub.”

“You believe you can dictate such things?” Wilhelm asked.

Elijah shrugged. “Dictate? No. But I can make suggestions,” he stated. “And given that I saved your life, as well as gave you the insight you needed to make this work, I think I’m entitled to some influence within your organization. Besides, this is for your good. I happen to know that there’s a Consortium of Crafters and Merchants that will probably be based in that city. I’m sure you’re not going to transport people out of a sense of public good, right?”

“We will charge a nominal fee. Much less than the Branch’s service, but enough to assist with upkeep and –”

“People will want to visit Argos for business. Lots of them. You’d be silly not to take advantage of that,” Elijah pointed out. “I can promise you won’t regret it. Pass that on to your people.”

That sort of ended the conversation then and there. Elijah didn’t like being so blunt about things, but at least he hadn’t threatened the man. That was progress as far as he was concerned. After that, Elijah inspected the site. His presence clearly made everyone uncomfortable, so he kept it short and sweet – not that there was much to see. The structure itself consisted of four curved prongs, each intended to be about fifty feet tall and made from a mixture of stone and metal. To Elijah, it looked almost like someone had intended to build two crossed arches, but removed the intersection.

The ground was a little more normal, and Elijah recognized dragonstone pavers that he assumed would be carved with various enchantments. Via Soul of the Wild, he could sense a complex set of magical machinery beneath those paving stones. Even with everything laid about before him, Elijah couldn’t make much sense of it.

But that was probably appropriate, considering he’d never made a study of the subject of teleportation. Presumably, the spatial wizards of the Conclave would know more.

Once Wilhelm assured Elijah that he would speak to his superiors, Elijah headed back to the island, where he settled into the center of the grove – right next to the ancestral tree – and resumed his efforts at core cycling.

He had a long way to go, and not much time to get there. So, he didn’t have a minute to spare. To help his efforts, he swallowed the Will of Iron, which made every aspect of cycling that much more efficient. In a single cycle – much like the one he’d engaged the night before – he covered almost three times as much ground.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

But only time would tell. For now, he could only concentrate on the task at hand, so he sank deep within himself and focused every bit of his willpower on pushing as far as possible in the time he had left.


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