The days bled into weeks, then months, a rhythmic dance of training, studying, and shared moments. Soon, Amanda's birthday arrived, heralded by the soft glow of dawn. She woke with a flutter in her chest, a nervous excitement she kept carefully hidden, even from herself.
Later that morning, as the sun climbed higher, painting the training room in streaks of gold, Amanda found Andrew.
"My turn for a massage and a kiss," she stated, her voice surprisingly steady. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Andrew threw back his head and laughed, a rich, booming sound that filled the room. "Of course, princess. Anything for the birthday girl."
She lay on the mat, fully clothed, her long black hair fanned out around her head. Andrew's hands, warm and strong, went to work on her shoulders. They moved down her spine, tracing the curve of her back, teasing out the knots in her muscles. A sigh escaped her lips. The feeling was incredible, a deep, pervasive comfort that seeped into her bones. His fingers worked magic, dissolving the tension she hadn't even realised she held.
He finished the massage with a gentle squeeze of her shoulders. She turned, her eyes meeting his. He leaned in, his gaze dropping to her mouth. She held her breath as his lips met hers, soft at first, then growing firmer, more insistent. His tongue tentatively brushed against her lips, then slipped inside, exploring the warm cavern of her mouth. Time seemed to stop. She returned the kiss, a nascent passion stirring within her, an unfamiliar warmth blossoming in her chest.
When he finally pulled back, a faint flush crept up her neck. Her lips, tingling and swollen, parted in a soft exhale.
"I need that from time to time," she murmured, her voice husky.
Andrew smiled, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Consider it done."
The routine continued, a comforting rhythm in their lives. More months passed, marked by the steady thump of Andrew's qi circulation, the increasing finesse of Amanda's spiritual attacks, and Lucy's calm guidance.
Then, one crisp morning, a triumphant roar echoed from Andrew's side of the training room. Lucy and Amanda looked at him. Andrew stood shirtless, his chest heaving, a powerful aura radiating from him. His muscles rippled under his skin, infused with a raw, untamed energy. Every inch of him vibrated with refined power. He had reached full body forging.
"I did it," he announced, a wide, joyful grin splitting his face.
Lucy clapped, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "Congratulations, Andrew. That's a significant milestone."
"What's next?" he asked, his eyes alight with ambition.
Lucy's expression grew serious. "Foundation Establishment. It's a critical step. Many cultivators falter here." She paused, considering her words. "First, you need a Foundation Establishment pill. It will smooth the path, increase your chances of success significantly."
"A pill?" Andrew raised an eyebrow. "What else?"
"You must research the process thoroughly," Lucy continued, pacing the length of the room. Her blonde hair swayed with her movements. "Understand every nuance, every potential pitfall. Don't rush. This isn't a stage where you can afford to improvise. The first attempt, they say, is the easiest. If you fail that…" She trailed off, a grim line forming on her lips. "It becomes infinitely harder to succeed afterward."
Andrew strode through the towering archways of Vavilon Academy, his small frame dwarfed by the ancient stone corridors. The merit point depository loomed ahead, a cavernous hall with walls lined in shimmering jade plaques, each etched with the names of students and their accumulated points. His boots clicked against the polished floor, a solitary echo in the vast space. For the first time, he came alone, a knot of determination tightening in his gut. The Foundation Establishment pill was within reach—if he could scrape together the cost.
He approached the counter, where a female representative stood, her robes a deep crimson, her gaze sharp and appraising. Her fingers danced over a ledger, inked with intricate symbols, as she barely glanced up at him.
"Name and purpose," she droned, her tone as flat as the slab of granite beneath her hands.
"Andrew. Here for a Foundation Establishment pill."
Her eyes flicked to him then, a glint of curiosity beneath her arched brow. She flipped a page in her ledger, scanning the entries with a practiced squint. "That'll be 500 merit points. Let's see your tally."
He squared his shoulders, unfazed. "Got none. Zero."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though she masked it quick. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. "No points, huh? Well, the academy does offer credit for… unique circumstances. You're a bold one, coming in empty-handed."
He tilted his head, waiting. Her smirk grew a fraction wider as she slid a parchment across to him, the terms scrawled in tight, precise script. "Here's the deal. You can take the pill now, pay later. The rate for credit is… unconventional. One drop of seed for 100 merit points. That's five drops to clear the debt for the pill."
Andrew's lips twitched, a silent chuckle bubbling up inside. The price struck him as absurdly low, almost comical. Five drops for a pill that could set the course of his cultivation? Back on Earth, he'd have laughed out loud at such a bargain. Sure, he was too young now, his body not yet capable, but later? A single release for a Foundation Establishment pill was more than fair. He'd done it before, hadn't he? That gift for Lucy came from the same trade, a quiet transaction that paid off in spades. This would just be another notch, another step forward.
"Fine by me," he replied, keeping his tone even, his face a mask of calm. "When's the deadline?"
She tapped the parchment with a lacquered nail. "When you hit twelve. That's the academy's cutoff for this kind of credit. You've got time, kid, but don't dawdle. Interest doesn't accrue, but late payment? That's a whole other mess you don't want."
He nodded, a smirk of his own creeping out. Twelve? He'd get there sooner, no question. His body was forging ahead faster than anyone expected, power coiling tighter with every passing day. "Deal. I'll take the pill now."
She slid a small, lacquered box across the counter, its surface gleaming like polished obsidian. Inside, nestled on a bed of silk, lay the pill—a perfect sphere of swirling indigo and gold, pulsing faintly with latent energy. He snapped the box shut, tucking it into his robe, the weight of it a promise against his chest.
"There are other things you could buy," she added, gesturing to a display of shimmering talismans and jade slips behind her. "Weapons, techniques, elixirs. Credit applies to most."
"Nah." He shook his head, already turning for the door. "I'm focused. Foundation Establishment comes first. Gotta build that base before I play with the fancy toys."
Her gaze followed him, a flicker of amusement in her eyes, as his footsteps echoed back through the hall. The pill burned a symbolic hole in his robe, a stepping stone to something greater. Comfort would wait. Strength wouldn't.
He walked past the towering shelves of the academy library, their dark wood groaning under the weight of centuries of knowledge. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight slicing through the high arched windows. He found the section on cultivation realms, his fingers tracing the spines of ancient tomes until he pulled a particularly thick volume, its cover bound in supple leather and embossed with intricate symbols.
The book unfurled the secrets of Foundation Establishment. It cautioned against haste. One did not simply transition from body forging to an entirely new realm. A period of rest was crucial, allowing the body to settle, to integrate the changes wrought by full body forging. A month or two, the text advised, for the physical form to reach its absolute peak condition. It was a time for subtle refinement, for the qi to flow unchecked, unburdened by the rigors of transformation.
The process itself, the book explained, was not inherently difficult, merely precise. The cultivator needed an environment saturated with qi, a space where the ethereal energy of the world flowed like an abundant river. Once immersed, the aspirant must consciously flood their body with this life force. Then, the Foundation Establishment pill, the key to unlocking the next stage, would act as a catalyst. It would cause the body, now primed and eager, to gorge itself on the surrounding qi, absorbing it into every fiber, every meridian.
A stark warning followed: a flawed or incomplete body forging would invite disaster. A backlash of uncontrolled qi could damage meridians, shatter organs, or even claim the cultivator's life. But, the text assured, if the body forging was done right, if the preparation was meticulous, if no unforeseen elements interfered, then success was almost guaranteed. The primary objective, it reiterated, was to achieve absolute stability after the body forging phase. Andrew absorbed every word, the blueprint for his future forming in his mind.
As he wandered the academy grounds later, the book tucked under his arm, girls frequently intercepted him. Their smiles were bright, their eyes eager. He walked past them, his mind still replaying the intricacies of qi absorption and meridian stabilization. Some stomped their feet, a frustrated huff escaping their lips as he passed, seemingly oblivious. Others merely sighed, their shoulders slumping in defeat.
Two more months passed. He listened to his body, to the subtle hum of qi within him, to the deep, resonant thrum of his fully forged form. He felt the internal tides of his energy, the quiet strength that now resided in his bones and muscles. Each morning, he awoke feeling revitalized, the energy in his core thrumming with a quiet power. His body had settled, every cell resonating with robust health. He felt no residual weakness, no lingering fatigue from his previous transformation. The time for rest had ended. He was ready.