The boundary of Cal's spirit taunted him.
He lay in the dark of his bedroom, eyes open, feeling the barrier that separated him from everything he needed to become. Seven attributes sang inside him.
He remembered Selara's warning. The more complete the foundation, the more intense the pressure.
He'd slept four hours. Maybe five? It would be enough. His body was healed, his channels clear, and his mind was keen: he was ready.
Cal sat up, the bed frame creaking beneath him as runelight filtered through the window and caught the edge of his nightstand. He closed his eyes and sank into [Meditation].
The world fell away. Sounds of the mouse in the attic and the wind against the roof dimmed to nothing; everything receded until the only reality was the interior landscape of his own spirit.
He found the threshold immediately. It was hard to miss, considering his spirit pressed against it from every direction.
You gotta risk it for the biscuit, Cal. Let's do this.
He reached for his Intent and pushed.
The expansion was instantaneous. The barrier dissolved with a thought, and the pressure it had been containing erupted outward in every direction at once. His spirit ballooned. Every form of energy he possessed - physical, mental, and vital - swelled past their boundaries and kept going with a force that tore the control from his grasp.
The deep warmth of his Stamina ripped free from his tissues, leaving him cold from the inside out as the energy dissipated toward his skin and beyond. His Mana broke from its core, the soulspring's calm reservoir unfurling explosively into a shapeless mental mist. Dragged along in the exodus, his Vitality grew thin, each cell surrendering a fraction of its intrinsic spark to feed the uncontrolled expansion.
Everything was inflating. His entire spirit was spreading far beyond its tolerance, the walls stretching thinner with every heartbeat. The sensation was a full-body version of the worst inner-ear vertigo he'd ever experienced: the ground wasn't moving, he was, expanding in directions that didn't correspond to physical space. It was like being hollowed out and inflated simultaneously, a soap bubble growing thinner as it grew larger, the film stretching toward the moment it simply ceased to exist.
The boundary went translucent; the expansion accelerating in a terrifying rush. Fear gripped him. He seized his runaway spirit with his Intent and hauled.
Hold!
He fought to stem the tide, latching on with a metaphysical death grip as he attempted to claw back even an inch. Managing to check the expansion, his panicked mind began to cycle through questions. What happens if it breaks? Does my whole spirit pop, or do I dissolve into nothing from the edges? Maybe just… scatter on the winds of ambient Mana? Or if I hold on but lose a portion, do I fail the breakthrough? My potential bleeding away, leaving me a hollowed-out version of what I could have been?
The distraction cost him. His will began to buckle and his grip slipped, as his very essence felt like it was sliding through the gaps and beginning to bulge out in places.
Crumb, Crumb, CRUMB! HOLD!
Redoubling his efforts, he grabbed hold of his expanding spirit with everything he had: every ounce of willpower, every scrap of focus and shred of the stubborn, teeth-gritting refusal to die that had carried him from his first day in this body to this moment. He reached for all of it, the unified totality of his being, and commanded it to stop.
And it did. Barely. He managed to clamp back down and halt the progression, but his Intent was only slowing the inevitable. It wasn't enough. His will felt thin, stretched taut and wearing out. He sensed individual strands of it snapping, the metaphysical rope fraying under the strain as his spirit began to bulge again at the edges.
Panic began to overtake his thoughts. What else do I have? His mind cycled through options and came up empty. Brute force was failing. He could think of nothing left to throw at the problem.
The sheer overwhelming frustration of it all raged through him at the thought of failing here, of dissolving into nothing after everything he'd endured.
And in that whirlwind of feeling, [Savant of the Mind] connected to one of Selara's lessons. He'd stored it away as abstract theory, but now it felt desperately relevant: a Spell didn't always need a runic structure. Pure Intent could serve as its own engine if the will behind it was strong enough. And intense emotion could fuel will. If it could work for Spells… maybe it could work here?
It was a desperate gamble, but it was all he had. He plunged his awareness inward, searching for the heaviest thing he carried.
His grief answered. Kamari's steady voice. Gavin's direct questions. Selara pressing a ring into his palm, and Aurelian fighting a smile. And then he saw Evelynn's green eyes flashing in the afternoon light. The faces of the dead and the departed and the lost flashed through his mind, one after the other.
Letting down the walls that guarded his heart, he used them, pouring every last fragment of feeling into his desire. All of the pain. All of the helplessness and loneliness. The rage. He fed and compressed them into his Intent and wrapped his will anew around his expanding spirit.
ENOUGH!
His spirit hung at its furthest extent, trembling; the boundaries so thin he felt a gentle breeze might carry it away. One more second of unchecked expansion and there would have been nothing left to save. His teeth were clenched so hard his jaw ached, and copper filled his mouth where he'd bitten through the inside of his cheek.
But it held.
Now the real work began.
Cal pulled inward. He commanded his spirit to contract and condense, to pack itself back into the physical and metaphysical boundaries it had inhabited moments ago. The resistance was enormous. His Intent was a net cast over a chaotic mix of mingled power that swirled just beyond the bounds of his body. Threads of kinetic warmth, wisps of cool mental energy, and sparks of pure life force were all tangled together in an amorphous cloud. It was a war on two fronts: pulling it back toward his body while simultaneously untangling the energies within it.
Adjusting his approach, he focused on one energy at a time. The first step was a feat of spiritual filtration. His mind became a sieve, isolating the Stamina threads from the undifferentiated storm. He drew them inward, forcing the charged energy back into his tissues and bones where it belonged. It stubbornly resisted every step of the way, fighting like a fish bucking on a line. The effort was grueling. Splitting his mind between holding his entire spirit and collecting his energy caused sweat to break out across his body, and he breathed in ragged pulls through clenched teeth.
With a final, grunting exertion, he forced down the last of it, and the energy actually locked back into place. A third of the outward pressure against his spirit dropped away with it. A flare of hope ignited inside him. One down. I can do this!
Buoyed by the success, he shifted his focus, his mental filter adjusting to catch the cool blue tang of Mana. He separated wisps of it from the Vitality and guided them back toward the hollow spiritual reservoir in his abdomen. The energy was calm, but it had a mind of its own, defying his efforts to bring it under his control. The mental strain built with every particle he successfully sorted and returned, as the process began to take a toll.
The final wisp of Mana returned to his core, and another portion of the outward force dissipated. But there was no relief this time. The prolonged labor had scraped his will raw, his attention fraying at the edges. He was winning the battle against the storm but losing the war against exhaustion.
Only Vitality remained. His will dove back into the cloud, seizing the intrinsic sparks made easier this time without having to filter. Pulling them back was different. Easier. The energy complied without complaint, just with a higher degree of spiritual drag. It was harder to move, almost like it was heavier, but it didn't fight him. And all he needed to do was pull the lingering energy into and throughout his body, as it automatically started filling the cells it passed through, moving on when one was full.
I should have started with this one… but what's done is done.
The last spark of Vitality slotted home, and the remaining strain on his spirit vanished entirely. The storm was over. All that remained was his spirit itself, expanded and thin, but now unopposed. With his will as the tether, he began to draw it back. The expanded boundaries resisted, stretched taut, but they slowly, grudgingly, began to contract under his sustained command.
And it was denser. His spirit had thickened during the process, and he was compacting it back into its original shape. The same boundaries but more, packed with a fundamentally greater concentration of power and reinforced, capable of containing much more spiritual energy.
The change cascaded through his physical form. His muscles felt charged with a deeper potential, each fiber buzzing with a new resilience that promised greater strength and explosive speed. It was an upgrade to the hardware itself; the capacity for force and the elasticity of his tendons qualitatively improved, a direct result of his enhanced physical attributes. Not to mention the increased density that would allow him to store more Stamina.
The font in his lower abdomen likewise swelled. He sensed the spiritual space itself expanding, its metaphysical walls dilating to create a reservoir that was vastly larger than before. The space within felt like a deep lake where a small pond had once been. He could already feel the first trickles of ambient Mana seeping in to fill the void, a steady current drawn to the new capacity. And his mind… every aspect of his mental landscape was improving in real-time, synapses firing faster and smoother as he processed the changes happening.
Lastly, he noticed a richer wellspring of Vitality suffusing every cell. Through the heightened awareness of the breakthrough, he felt his body using the amplified life force to repair the inherent entropy of being alive. Micro-damage in his joints, accumulated fatigue in his organs - all of it mended as the strengthened flow of Vitality casually burned through imperfections.
His bedroom gradually lightened as the sky shifted towards dawn. The compression continued. Hours of sustained effort, each one easier than the last as his spirit solidified into its new form, each layer locking into its permanent place.
The sky outside his window warmed from grey to gold.
Something finally clicked.
A sensation down in the center of his being seemed to lock definitively. The expansion pressure vanished. His spirit settled into its new configuration, and for the first time since the trial began, everything was still.
He simply was. And the world rushed in.
His [Spiritual Perception] unfurled without his asking, expanding outward from his body in a sphere of passive awareness that dwarfed anything he'd experienced before. He registered the slow drift of ambient Mana threading through the timber walls of his bedroom, currents of invisible energy flowing in patterns he'd never been able to perceive until now: eddies around the load-bearing beams and turbulence near the utility runes. Even a steady river of ambient power running beneath the foundation.
Everything was brighter and more clear. The air seemed to carry new information: temperature gradients and pressure differentials between the window glass and the hallway, and new smells between the older wood and the restoration work. His body felt like a precision instrument that had been recalibrated, every nerve ending tuned to a higher degree of sensitivity.
He breathed in. Out. Air filled lungs that processed oxygen with an efficiency that made each breath feel deeper and more nourishing. His heartbeat was measured and powerful. Each contraction pushed blood through vessels that felt wider and more elastic, the flow reaching his extremities and tingling with warmth that he'd never noticed before, because it'd never been this strong.
The morning sun painted a warm line across his face.
Cal opened his eyes.
Aurum's first rays flooded the room, streaming through the window and catching the dust that hung in the still room. He was drenched in sweat, the sheets beneath him dark and damp, hair plastered to his forehead. His muscles ached with the satisfying exhaustion of maximum effort, the proof of a body tested to its absolute limit and emerged intact.
Status.
NAME: Cal Valorn
RACE: Half-elf
TIER: E (Low Sovereign)
PRIMARY ATTRIBUTES
| VIT | 0.00% | E |
| STR | 0.00% | E |
| AGI | 0.00% | E |
| END | 0.00% | E |
| INT | 0.00% | E |
| WIL | 0.00% | E|
| WIS | 0.00% | E |
He scrolled past the attribute tables. The attunement percentages had reset, of course. Zero across the board for E-tier. His Skills list was a mess of updated tier tags, proficiency drops, and several [Unstable] or [Volatile] markers on his Abilities that he'd need to figure out how to address. Practice, most likely.
Cal swung his legs off the bed and stood.
The motion was effortless. New quickness and strength that hadn't been there before, the same inputs producing smoother and faster outputs. He flexed his hand, watching the tendons shift beneath the skin, and reveled in the experience. He took a step, then another. His baseline physicality had undergone a qualitative upgrade that went beyond numbers. His body was simply capable of more. It was capable of better.
Stamina surged through his healed channels. Where he once hesitated to cycle his F-tier power a day ago, this new energy flowed unimpeded, a feeling of seamless power settling into his muscles.
Drawing a thread of Mana upward experimentally, he felt the energy tear off with a speed and volume that startled him. The quantity of his reserves made calling the power easier than ever before.
He turned to his [Spiritual Perception] and its broader passive range, letting it encompass the entire house. He sensed the rune-work in the kitchen: the heating array, the water dispenser, and the ventilation circuit, each one a distinct spiritual signature.
Continuing with the familiar, he projected it outward with spatial feedback allowed. The street below snapped into high fidelity through the focused beam. He could perceive fine details in the texture of the cobblestones, and the grain of wood on a neighbor's cart. He pushed it further down the street, and the detail began to wash out. A hundred yards away the definition blurred into indistinct shapes, like he was used to. Two hundred yards, and the world became a low-resolution fuzz, with pressure building behind his eyes that told him he was at his limit.
Still, the test was revealing. If his E-tier mind could handle that much feedback from the beam, perhaps it could now manage omnidirectional scanning up close. Cautiously, he reined his perception back in, reforming it into a sphere of awareness just a yard around him. Everything remained vivid, the mental load ramping but sustainable as he continued to perceive the spiritual and the spatial. At fifteen yards, the details at the edge of the sphere began to soften, the cognitive strain mounting. He dialed it back, settling on a stable, ten-yard radius of total awareness.
The pulse was another matter entirely. He resisted the urge to unleash its full power. Instead, he drew a small, controlled charge of Mana into a [Continuance] rune and released it in an expanding ring. The local auras populated in his mind, covering his entire neighborhood. He saw the faint lights of commoners, the brighter glow of a few adventurers, and the cluster of spirit herbs in a nearby garden. Holy mackerel… I could probably ping everything within a mile.
And [Spiritual Pulse] was still a trivial expense. A drop in the bucket. He felt the vast Mana pool in his abdomen, a sea of potential where a lake had once been. This new tier opened up an entire world of possibilities, and he looked forward to exploring them all. But one possibility stood out among the rest.
A runic construct of one hundred and seven glyphs.
A doorway whose cost had been an insurmountable wall.
A wall… that was now gone.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I hope everyone had a good weekend and enjoyed the chapter. Some edits below that I needed to squeeze in. Book 2 will conclude on Friday.
And for what it's worth, I really like how Book 2 has closed out and hope you enjoy the next two chapters this week. I'm excited for Book 3, even though I'm really having a hard time deciding how to finagle the first couple of chapters.
I've done a bad job of keeping up with some of the progression elements lately, and have a few ideas for edits coming to help rectify that. Meditation getting addressed below, and probably some spellcasting-based Skills in the future that I will retcon. Also, a larger edit that I had to do for today's RR chapter. Annnnd an edit to the math on the Sovereign's Toll because an RR reader named Zijkhal is smarter than me. And I also updated the notification standard for the attributes/spiritual contamination because it's been causing confusion forever. This last bit I only have updated on RR for now...
Totally didn't go on an editing binge because I'm procrastinating on how to start Book 3. Nope.
Have a good start to the week!
Jon
REVISIONS
Chapter 102: Cal will increase Meditation to Practiced as he's sneaking around the Depths and using Spiritual Pulse to recharge.
Cal maintained the technique until the jerky was fully processed, leaving him with a feeling of balanced readiness.
[Your proficiency with Meditation (F) has increased to Practiced]
Time to get this show back on the road.
Chapter 123: Same thing... upping his growth with meditation through processing the essence that's dumping into him.
Hours passed. Or minutes. Time lost its meaning inside the meditative state, compressed and stretched by his progress.
[Your proficiency with Meditation (F) has increased to Adept]
The problem with repetitive work was that it freed the mind to wander. And the problem with [Perfect Memory] was that it didn't necessarily wander to comfortable places.
Chapter 101: After proofreading this again for posting on RoyalRoad... Cal overcoming the psychic attack/vertigo from the tendril felt too unearned to me. So I added some friction to flesh it out.
Through the sensory handicap, he could feel his tormentor's presence now, something vast and ancient. The creature’s will targeted his equilibrium, a direct strike that pulverized the very foundation of his proprioception.
It’s a lie. The thought cut through the nausea, a flash of insight from his Earth memories. Vertigo is a lie. The inner ear is compromised, but gravity hasn’t changed. Down is still down.
He couldn’t trust his body, so he abandoned it. Clenching his jaw, Cal drove his focus inward, searching for the one constant in the swirling chaos: his will to survive. The psychic pressure of the beast fought him, trying to shred his concentration, but he ignored it. He built an anchor in his mind, a single, unwavering point of desire. Desire to live.
From that anchor, he began to impose his own reality on his senses. He forced his mind to feel the rough texture of the stone beneath his hands, to accept its solidity. He visualized his own weight settling toward the true floor, imposing his own sense of down over the violent spin his body was reporting. It was a brutal act of will, pitting his logic against every primal instinct demanding that he was falling.
[Your proficiency with Mental Fortitude (F) has increased to Practiced]
Slowly, agonizingly, his mental construct bore out. The violent spin began to lose its power, subdued by his forced perspective. It receded to a disorienting sway, a psychic wave he could begin to stand against.
[Your proficiency with Mental Fortitude (F) has increased to Adept]
The notifications chimed, confirming the victory he had just clawed for. He forced himself back to his feet, his entire body shaking with the strain of the mental battle. The spiritual pressure receded slightly, but a vast alien rage remained, a storm building beneath the earth.
Updated the rest of the chapters to have the new attribute gain verbiage. So they're like this meow:
[Agility has increased by 5.00%; from 0.00% to 5.00%]
[Spiritual Contamination has increased by 10.00%; from 0.00% to 10.00%]
I also updated the Sovereign's Toll math logic in Chapter 58 based on Zijkhal's feedback in Discord... because my math was wrong. Thanks dude!
"The rule is simple. To gain a single percentage point past the threshold, you must match the total energy you have already consumed."
Caleb blinked. [Savant of the Mind] seized the variable and ran the sequence.
"It took about nine and a half stones to reach ninety-four," Caleb said slowly. "To reach ninety-five—"
"You need to match that," Hatch confirmed. "Another nine and a half."
"And for ninety-six? Nineteen more?"
"Indeed." Hatch held up a hand, ticking off the progression. "For ninety-seven, thirty-eight. For ninety-eight—"
"Six hundred and two," Caleb breathed.
Hatch froze, his eyes widening briefly. He studied Caleb. The captain slowly lowered his hand.
"Most recruits need a slate and chalk to get there," Hatch murmured. He gave a single, curt nod. "Correct. Six hundred and two stones."