Morning light shone through the curtains as Morena sat cross-legged on the floor, the journal open before her and the AI’s instructions whispering faintly at the edges of her thoughts.
The night had been restless again, not only was her dreams still haunted by the lingering effects of the crawling letters and corridors that bent too long, but she also wanted to immediately begin her progress.
Today she would begin.
"AI, compile the Pulse Compression Method. I want the full regimen now."
[Processing. Compiling optimized method... Completed.]
The feed slipped into her mind like water pouring into a cup, but this water was cold, clear as could be. Instructions unfurled within her thoughts: breathing patterns altered to unnatural rhythms, letters shaped not by pen but by the flow of energy itself, nodes that had to be formed and stabilized inside her body.
Morena exhaled slowly, steadying her hands on her knees.
This method was complex, immensely so, but it was the only way she could grow strong in a short time without risking her life. It had to be done, and she would do it.
She inhaled as instructed.
The first node—the simplest letter—had to be formed just above the diaphragm, where her breathing cycle naturally converged. Energy followed breath, and she tried to etch the symbol into place, not on parchment, but along invisible pathways inside her body.
Moving the energy was difficult, shaping energy itself wasn’t something just anyone could do, it would take a skilled apprentice to even begin shaping elemental energy.
Thankfully, she only had to do it inside herself, not outside, so with the aid of the AI, she was able to make up for her gap in strength.
The second it began to form, it burned.
Her chest seized with pressure, as though she had swallowed fire and frost at once. The letter flickered faintly in her mind’s eye, like a shape drawn in smoke—unstable, trembling.
She clenched her teeth and forced her energy into it.
For a moment, it held. Next, her body instantly began to spasm, and the letter collapsed, the energy backlashing throughout her entire body.
Her body recoiled, a cough tearing through her as backlash rattled her lungs. A metallic tang filled her mouth; she spat, crimson droplets staining the floorboards.
There was no hesitation. She had expected this, the AI had warned her—moderate risks, strain, backlash. The key was repetition; she would do it until her body adapted to it, until her mind could shape it on mere instincts.
Again, she drew the breath, shaping the energy. Again, the letter trembled, again it collapsed, scattering into formless pain.
Her vision blurred, her ribs ached, but she pressed forward.
The third attempt lasted longer. The fourth broke almost instantly. By the seventh, her energy slipped wild, lancing along her meridians and leaving faint burns of numbness trailing down her arms.
[Warning: Instability reaching hazardous threshold.]
The AI’s voice was sharp, but Morena only laughed under her breath, bitter and breathless.
"What progress ever came without hazard?"
Her eyes burned with undiluted madness. No, calling it madness would be rude to those with drive; it wasn’t madness, it was drive, it was desire, greed to accomplish her goal.
Still, she was not stupid. Charging through blindly would cripple her before she gained anything; she shifted her approach, pacing her breath, narrowing her focus.
She murmured, and decided to focus on just one letter, piece by piece, instead of trying to get all done today.
"Just one. Stabilize it... breathe into it... hold."
She sat straighter, palms on her knees, and drew in another breath. Energy flowed, tentative, trembling like a thread across her veins. Slowly, painfully, she forced it into the pattern of the first letter.
This time, she didn’t try to make it perfect. She let it wobble, let it flicker, but kept her focus on holding it in place, piece by piece she shaped it, each curve, each stroke, as if she was drawing it by hand.
Her chest burned, her arms trembled. But it didn’t collapse.
She exhaled carefully, not daring to break her focus. The letter glowed faintly in her inner sight, carved not into paper but into the fabric of her own being.
Sweat slicked her back, her hair clung to her temples, but the corner of her mouth curved faintly upward.
She meditated like that for what felt like an hour, until the letter stopped trembling and seemed to settle into the rhythm of her breath. Not stable yet—no, it still pulsed like a caged bird—but stable enough to remain.
Then she tried another.
The second was worse. It cut at her veins, its shape less natural, more angular. Twice it broke, sending backlash shuddering through her body until her muscles spasmed and she spat up blood. Her vision dimmed at the edges; she nearly fainted before she steadied herself with shallow breaths.
By the third attempt, she found her rhythm, it was becoming easier to carve them, to find their patterns. She treated the letter not as a rigid mark, but as a living thing that had to be coaxed into her breathing cycle.
Slowly, reluctantly, it obeyed.
Two letters. And then three.
By the fourth, her hands shook so badly she had to stop, clutching her knees until her nails bit skin. By the fifth, she collapsed backward against the floor, gasping like she had been drowning.
Her body felt aflame, her eyes were bleeding, ears ringing, but her energy... her energy felt denser, sharper. There was so much more than she ever had, just from forming them, they had passively absorbed large amounts of elemental energy to sustain themselves.
[Progress: 5 letters stabilized. Energy efficiency increased by 27%. Circulatory compression successful.]
The AI’s report threaded into her mind like cold steel, but Morena only laughed weakly, rolling to her side.
"Twenty-seven percent... that’s more progress than months of training."
She forced herself upright; she could barely stabilize herself into a sitting position, her body screamed, but she ignored it.
Again, she formed the letters. One at a time. Each was like carving into her flesh and bone, like carefully reforging her body under tempered flames. Each was a fight against collapse.
By the day’s end, her body was drenched in sweat and blood, her breath shallow, but 10, 10 letters had been carved into her body, each in an important spot for her energy flow.
It was maddening, she had almost given up multiple times, she had regretted her choice, wanting to stop and just go with the easy way; but she refused, she reminded herself what this was for, why she did what she did.
She made her progress.
She sat at the edge of her bed, trembling, her hand pressed to her chest. The energy inside her pulsed differently now—compressed, refined, she could actively feel the elemental energy flowing inside of her without even thinking.
And beneath it all, she felt it: the shift.
[Confirmation: Energy density and circulation efficiency consistent with warrior-level initiation. User has entered Mid-Level Apprentice stage.]
The words filled her ears like thunder, but it wasn’t the AI’s clinical tone that made her tremble. It was the reality of it, the proof that what she had just done mattered.
She had reached a stage in one day, that many took years to reach. A Mid-Level Apprentice, it was no small feat, even her sister would struggle to reach such a level.
And she had done it in one day.
Her lips curved into a tired, almost delirious smile.
This was power, she finally had the power to stand on her own, with this strength, while she wasn’t the top of the Kingdom, she wasn’t the bottom anymore.
No normal person could compare to her, the only people that stood above her now were official warriors, even High-Tier Apprentices wouldn’t be an issue thanks to the AI.
Her father would see her progress. The council would have no choice but to see it. She was no longer crawling behind her siblings, no longer the broken daughter they whispered about in the shadows.
But as her breath evened out and exhaustion began to claim her, she couldn’t ignore the other truth.
She couldn’t tell them, not yet. If she progressed too quickly it would stand out, it would be suspicious. The tallest tree often took the force of the wind first; she couldn’t be that tree.
She had to hide her progress, but how could she? How could she hide her elemental energy flow from a proper warrior? They would sense it easily, maybe not perfectly, but they could.