Chapter 71: Hobound
The fall announced its arrival with an unrelenting ashen storm that lasted for weeks. The institution had to be dismissed. Even the most common folks’ livelihoods were hampered. The biggest dilemma I faced, however, was the inability to use my levitation boots.
The ashen storm did fall back now and then, but those were rely intervals, not a true conclusion.
Honestly, I didn’t miss the institution all that much. But what I wouldn’t do if I could spend an hour outdoors swinging a sword.
My days were mostly spent enriching my knowledge base with books or working on the fabricator that the legionaries had commissioned. Weave-breaking duels with Mum were the most fun, and the less said about sand-picking, the better.
The tabard I was preparing for Father had long been completed. While no enchantnt seed to last on his aura, the tabard still held the basic enchantnts, which would raise its utility. Well, as long as Father didn’t get into a fight wearing it.
There would be a day when I'll make sothing he wouldn't have to worry about ruining.
Mum’s painting needed far more intricate work, and I had to sneakily do it late at night. I had already tried and failed multiple tis, even after making a thorough schema for it. It was a concern of skill over artistry, and as always, my skill failed to live up to my artistic ambitions.
Well, it might not be too difficult to carve hundreds upon hundreds of micro rune lines on a flat surface, but it was imnsely challenging to align all those carvings to make a painting.
I promised myself I would finish it before the storm ceased. If I got everything right, it was rely a night’s work.
I hadn’t been counting ti, but it was only after the fiftieth hour that I saw a path towards success. A few more days, and I succeeded in carving out all the light and illusion runes perfectly.
Now, on the canvas, depicted an animated scene of a woman on a swing under the open sky, a baby in her arms, her long bright red hair billowing. The illustration was coly enough, but staring into it for more than a second seed to pull one into an illusion. Golden and crimson maple leaves danced in the amiable wind, as filtered sun rays flickered on our faces. I found myself in the days of my early years, all my worry and fear non-existent, basking in the warmth of her arms.
[Fabricator: For the Best Mum in the World
Grade: Elite | Durability: 32/32
An illustration purely made out of runes, depicting the artist’s skill and determination.
Enchantnt:
Illusion: Pulls the observer into the world of the painting.
ntal Rehabilitation: Recovers one ntal fatigue.
Restoration: Uses essence to restore damages.]
Perhaps it was because I was overly fatigued, but the ntal rehabilitation enchantnt was surprisingly effective. Coupled with my elation at finally succeeding, I could montarily ignore all my weariness.
It took over thirty attempts, spanning more than sixty hours, but I was finally satisfied with the result. Honestly, I wouldn’t have failed so many tis if I had practised with smaller rune paintings. Instead, I had chosen a monstrous project that demanded skills I hadn't yet possessed.
My skills had improved by leaps and bounds by the end of it. I was sure of that.
Now, all that was left was to hang it sowhere Mum could see. The clock ticked close to four, a couple of hours before sunrise, not that the ambience would be any better with the ashen storm still going strong. Giving the painting another look, I sneakily crept to the study. There was a whole empty wall facing the bookshelves. Using a stool, and Fractal Sight’s ability to asure symtry, I hung the painting at the very centre of the wall.
Glancing one last ti at it, I deliberated for a mont and decided to leave Father’s black tabard on the table.
With that, I finally felt the crash and return to my bed, falling into the sweet embrace of Somnus.
It was still dark when I woke up, but considering how full my essence seed felt and how rejuvenated my body was, I was sure more than a few hours had passed. Creeping out with blurry eyes, I was about to refresh myself when Mum found and planted a kiss on my cheek.
I take it that she loved the painting.
“Any chance I can be free of the bowl of sands?” I asked with a smile.
“Guess?” She smirked. Then the look in her eyes hardened, and Mum began berating . “While I'm happy with what you made for , how many tis have I warn you about screwing your sleep cycle? If you’re already this disobedient when you’re so young, what will you do when you’re older, when there’s nobody to look after you?!”
I bowed my head and hid my grin. In truth, I didn’t find any fault with my conduct. Even if there was any, I wouldn’t mind doing it again if it were a worthwhile endeavour. But if I said that now, Mum’s lecture would go on for ever.
“She’s being hard now,” Father chirped, “but she was all tears when she first laid eyes on the painting.”
Mum glared at him. “As if you were any better.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringent.
While they began bickering, I swiftly snuck out, or attempted. Unfortunately, I hadn’t even taken a couple of steps when a swirl of golden essence threads enveloped , freezing in place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mum’s voice sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m not nearly done with you.”
“Mum, no magic inside the house,” I reiterated the rules, slowly craning my neck towards her.
She replied by pulling closer to her with telekinesis.
“This is tyranny,” I cried.
But instead of berating further, she embraced , running her slow, coddling palm over my back.
“How long did it take?”
I considered lying, but on second thought, I had never lied to her, so I only exercised myself to hide the truth. “You know I’m a genius,” I said. “Compared to the sand picking, it took barely any effort.”
“Any effort, you say?” Mum pushed her index finger to my forehead. “Hmmph, I rember seeing you sneaking around with those instrunts over a month ago. If I knew you were making...” She shook her head. “Well, pay less attention to the sand picking or any other fancy tasks from now on, and concentrate more on Essence Unification. Your skills are already adequate for an early Noble Class shaper and artisan.”
I agreed readily. After all, it had been so ti since the double breakthroughs in my Aether roots. Even the progress in the Way of Essence Unification was slowing down. Thankfully, I had a feeling that I was not that far off from a breakthrough.
However, I hadn’t thought it would co within a couple of days. Once again, I felt a stir in the silver bell that rested within my Essence Seed, resisting the strange pull of the uncanny dream.
With a quick deliberation, I allocated the single point to Will. My reasoning was simple. While Influence illustrated the range, and Weight depicted the raw power, Will not only represented my control, but also allowed to pull more essence through my Aether roots. Obviously, the more essence, the better.
The ashen storm finally ca to an end after raging for thirty-two days. And I hadn’t even finished with the bowl of sand, not that I felt the least bit depressed about it.
As the sun finally scorched through the scattering clouds, I donned my levitation boots to circle the town. The world was blanketed in grey. Everywhere I looked—the fields, the path, even the overturned trees—was covered in ashes. There was even a fervent, ashen sll to the wind, but I ignored it, welcoming all the sunlight with open arms.
Although our house had held up perfectly against the unrelenting storm, everyone else wasn’t so lucky, especially the dwellings of those common folks. Hell, even the fortification around the town, on the side not protected by the Candour Mountains, had collapsed.
Turning around, I hurled towards the Institution to find most of its buildings still standing. Many of the outdoor facilities had crumbled, along with a few of the armoured trees uprooted. Well, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.
The very next day, Mum volunteered for so social services. I accompanied her through most of it, helping fix the houses of the common folks.
When that was over, Father brought us to the mountains and had and Eran go rock climbing. It was a fun experience. Although a bit taxing utilising only my physical abilities, we flew through the challenge with relative ease, Eran even better than I.
The Way ca sooner rather than later.
[A new Way is available: Rock Climbing I (1/100)]
The swordsmanship practice also progressed more towards movents than sword flows. With our physical capabilities, each of us could lunge several tres across. It was ti to implent that into our swordsmanship.
“You have already seen,” Father said, “the higher you go, the less it is about pure swordsmanship and more about throwing magical power at one another.”
I recalled his duel with Magus Selene and nodded.
“Well, I’ll teach you about all those when you are prepared. For now, focus on your sword steps. The goal is to cut any unnecessary movents out of it.”
Father sparred with us, taking on the two of us at once. Obviously, he could beat us both with his eyes closed, holding a re twig, but that wasn’t his purpose. He didn’t move all that much in the spar, demonstrating what we should aim for. He didn’t cheap out on his advice either. So of it was genuinely relevant, though it stung too hard.
“Your steps are overly cautious,” he told .
“You want to be fearless sparring against a master swordsman?” I blurted under my breath.
“It would have been good if we could get so good sparring partners for you,” Father sighed.
Well, after his display of power against the Primus Plius, there was no shortage of parents sending their boys and girls for him to train, including those who had once spurned his training. However, this ti, Father didn’t take on any of them. Honestly, even if he had, they wouldn’t have been any good at sparring at our level.
“I’ll look into it later,” he said, gesturing towards us. “Co again.”
Brandishing our duelling canes, Eran and I exchanged a look and hurled at him at the sa ti. As if that was going to change anything.
“Both of your backwards evasions are terrible,” Father chided. “It was like a couple of monkeys lunging backwards. See how I do it.”
While most physical movents could easily be replicated, what he demonstrated wasn’t so easy to imitate. It just felt like he withdrew a step, skidding against the floor, and the next mont he was already several strides away. He showed it a few more tis, with slight alterations in direction, but the ease with which he carried himself never changed. His movent was effortless, having full control over his body and the surroundings.
Then we were left to practise the withdrawing movents. At first, our efforts were no better than awkward backwards jumps, but within a week, our steps beca good enough to engage in spars. It still wasn’t as smooth as if an invisible force were carrying our bodies—akin to what Father was capable of—but it was still better than unnecessary lunges and flips.
Another week passed, and the Institution officially reopened. The annual evaluation was coming up, so everyone worked with renewed vigour. Since there was nothing new for to learn, I put more effort into Father’s teaching, compensating for the ti lost during the storm.
Father now even asked to incorporate the Levitation Boots into my swordplay, saying sothing about playing to my strengths. I had no complaints, though it was a completely different beast to use the boots for short bursts of accurate movents. And don’t even start on Haste.
The enchantnt was like having a Gift. However, unlike a Gift—which the awakened cultivate to improve—Haste was already on par with most early Prestigious Class awakened’s speed.
I could not control it at all. The third gear was my limit, and even that I could hardly utilise properly during our spars. All that with my high ntal faculty.
I guessed I needed to invest so points, but Mum advised to wait for my Noble Class Advancent. That day wasn’t very far off.
But before that, I needed to take care of the annual evaluation and the regional tournant that followed. There were still a couple of weeks for the forr, and over a month for the latter.
I was helping Eran prepare for the written tests when guests ca knocking at the door. It was none other than Dreamweaver Prisca, who ca along with her little apprentice to get her artifact made.
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