I sat cross-legged on the ground and started what they called meditation.
Though called meditation, it was anything but. The process, instead of calming and liberating, was pensive and excruciating. My mind was focused entirely inward. The Blueprint—my F-Grade Foundation—had created a structure, and my job was to make Aether flow through it again and again, strengthening it.
But you can't strengthen a single part forever. The limit depends on your talent. If it's low, after a certain point, the structure breaks apart and shatters into pieces. That's why it's said one needs to understand their limit and not push.
Haaa... but I can't. After going through the motions for a month, I can say that the Pillars, though rotten, are already filled. By convention, I should start focusing on building the next step—the Baron's Walls—but if I do that, my foundation will be extremely weak. The entire superstructure would collapse at the first real pressure.
No point in moping. It's not like I didn't know my condition.
Let just do it.
The moment the thought solidified, an excruciating pain spread through my body.
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The transition was violent. His soul felt like it was splitting in two, and his body acted as the canvas for the metaphysical trauma.
His eyes immediately went bloodshot, and every vein under his skin stood out like wires on a circuit board. A deep, burning redness spread across his torso. The Pillars of his soul—his one anchor—began to collapse, and the raw, uncontained Aether that had made them up started flooding his system.
His skin immediately cracked under the pressure of the invading energy, and the physical cracks wept pus and blood. Blood began flowing out from the seven orifices on his face—eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth—leaving a grotesque, sickening mask.
The agony was so intense it drove all coherent thought from his mind. He was no longer lying on the floor; he was trapped in a meat grinder.
But even amidst the chaos, a single, cold shard of his will survived.
Rebuild.
The remaining, terrified threads of his consciousness slowly started to form a mental choke point, desperately trying to gather the chaotic, splitting Aether. The destructive energy didn't stop, it just got redirected; The uncontrolled energy flowed back into the blueprint. It was like trying to sculpt a statue using molten steel while being consumed by the flames.
The process was slow, agonizing, and intensely focused. The psychic trauma continued, but the visual horror receded as the Aether was forced back into a stable form.
Finally, after an eternity that lasted maybe five minutes, the psychic pressure ceased. The Pillar was whole again.
His body relaxed instantly. The muscles gave out, and my consciousness collapsed into the dark abyss of exhaustion.
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I woke up coughing.
My throat was dry, and the taste of metallic, crusty blood coated my tongue. My body ached, feeling heavy and bruised. I opened my eyes.
The scene was familiar. I was lying next to the mess—dried blood, pus, and sweat caked onto the floor.
But this time, I didn't feel the daze or the terror. I felt a manic, dizzying triumph.
I dragged myself up the wall, using the phone's reflective surface to check my face. The skin was cracked and scabbed, but the bleeding had stopped.
I focused inward. I checked the soul metrics.
My original Blueprint had called for four Pillars in my Foundation. I only saw one.
The Pillar was whole again, rebuilt with highly condensed Aether—steel in the place of rotten wood. This was the success. Traditional Soul Architects construct one Pillar at a time and slowly fill it, but my method required a sudden, large influx of energy to prevent dissipation.
The rank had dropped. I was now a Beginner-Level Knight—a full spiritual reset.
I stared at the screen, and then I broke into a crazed grin.
It worked.
But the terror immediately returned. The next attempt would be exponentially harder. I couldn't destroy one Pillar at a time; I would need to shatter this newly condensed Pillar along with the three original rotten ones to ensure the final structures were of uniform density. And to finish the entire foundation, I would need to control four times the power and rebuild all four simultaneously in that brief window of chaos.
The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced. But the principle was sound.
I was no longer stuck. I had found the path to transcend my birthright.
The wild, maniacal laughter returned, raw and triumphant in the small apartment.