The blunted tip of a practice spear came hard at his gut. Volithur used the haft of his own spear to redirect the tip. Then the butt of the Marshal’s spear spun around to clip him in the head.

  Volithur defended himself with his aura, halting the attack completely. When he followed up with a stab of his own, the Marshal circled the spear butt and tapped Volithur’s weapon down and then stepped in to knock Volithur back. His aura rose in time to protect him from the worst of the strike, but Volithur was still thrown off his feet.

  The Marshal motioned for Volithur to stand. The private lessons had sted a week already.

  His level three body enhancement barely helped against the Marshal. The man was better in every way and Volithur’s efforts seemed pathetic in comparison to the casual skill on dispy. He considered it a win if he held his spear correctly and used proper footwork.

  They spent two hours every morning on spear work. Then in the afternoon Volithur worked domain exercises with the Sergeant for another two hours. Otherwise, he was expected to cultivate. A demand he scrupulously followed. Even with the copious amounts of cosmic energy he expended using his aura to block and his domain to manipute objects, Volithur ended every day with more cosmic energy reserves in his soul than the day before.

  He received a double vial of cosmic water every evening, which he passed off to Khana. He did the same with the first of his weekly blood boiling elixirs. Khana dutifully cultivated a few hours every day. Otherwise, he discovered that the life of the nobles was every bit as indolent as he’d imagined. Khana would often spend an entire afternoon leisurely reading trashy romance novels in the lounge while a servant pyed a harp. She also spent an inordinate amount of time drawing pastoral scenes in charcoal. Then there was the daily morning stroll the women took around the main courtyard at the center of the pyramid’s first floor. From what Volithur understood, it was ninety percent gossiping with a small amount of physical activity.

  Khana enjoyed her mundane activities, so Volithur made sure not to voice any of the criticisms on his mind. He’d certainly wasted plenty of hours at the mall’s arcade before his abduction. Still, he had trouble conceiving of members of a Xian noble family, descendants of the Lord General himself, who contented themselves with being yabouts.

  Maybe their ck of ambition was why these particur family members were pced in the Fifth Household. From what Volithur had picked up over the years, the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Households existed as a st chance to descendants who showed little potential. What he hadn’t expected was for a major component of their ‘potential’ to be willingness to expend effort. Living among the family had given him a less than positive impression of their habits.

  Many of them weren’t willing to work more than an hour a day at cultivation, even with easy access to resources as a reward and the threat of being disinherited as a punishment. What seemed to Volithur like powerful incentives failed to inspire serious efforts.

  That realization caused him to lose a lot of respect for the family even as their pleasant reception of him eased over a lot of the unspoken hostility he held towards them. He began to think of them less as frightening creatures who held his fate in their hands and more as zy, inept social climbers. So long as they thought him important, or even just potentially important, they were harmless.

  Something that confirmed his opinions was the regur parade of young nobles who thanked Volithur for occupying the Marshal during the mornings. They welcomed being able to skip private lessons with a skilled level six warrior. Volithur could somewhat understand their position, given the fact that he had often dreamed of sleeping in and skipping morning training when he lived in the barracks. The difference between receiving personalized training with a master and attending group csses inclusive of the city militia was like day and night. In Volithur’s estimation, the noble brats should have been irate that a priceless opportunity had been stolen from them instead of grateful that they had more free time.

  Meanwhile, Volithur spent upwards of twelve hours a day in cultivation. For close to two years, he bored for the slightest advancement. Now, cosmic energy poured into his soul as simply as if he’d opened a tap to let it in. He could have reached level four already if he wasn’t training so hard with the Marshal and the Sergeant. Aura and domain usage both drew down his energy reserves at ruinous rates.

  That was partially due to the extravagance inspired by how quickly he replenished. The need to be economical with his reserves had passed. When he did domain exercises with the Sergeant, Volithur no longer held back in an attempt to preserve energy for the future. He knew he could recover anything he spent in a reasonable time and acted accordingly. When he sparred the Marshal, Volithur made liberal use of his aura to protect himself from strikes.

  Though Volithur’s life and status had changed significantly, he didn’t have much time to appreciate the difference. He certainly ate better. The quality of his instruction had improved. And his room mate situation could not even compare to what came before.

  Yet the fact remained that he still spent most of his waking time pulling cosmic energy into his soul in a bid to reach the fourth level. He alternated between sitting cross-legged on the floor, lounging in a chair, and reclining on his bed. All the while he cultivated chaos.

  The process proved very different from the methods he previously employed. Mental cultivation, the first method he had become competent in, relied upon using a thought filter and allowing the pressure of cosmic energy on the mental band to equalize into the soul. Aural cultivation, the method he had gained the most proficiency in, required him to actively draw energy in a cycle very reminiscent of breathing. Body cultivation required resources.

  His newest method was simpler than all of that. Assuming you had the right true insight, that was. Otherwise it was impossible. Or, if you were willing to poison your soul, you could turn your realm into a filter. All Volithur had to do was open the aperture at the base of his soul, the one that intersected with primordial chaos, and draw in as much as he needed. The chaos transformed into cosmic energy in accordance with his understanding.

  The process was quick and simple. Not necessarily easy, though. It took a certain amount of effort. Volithur didn’t notice that effort until he had spent some time at it. The strain would sneak up on him as he worked, until he suddenly realized that he was close to exhaustion.

  Even with that minor limitation, he cultivated faster than he would ever have believed possible. Faster than he would have managed if he was granted daily elixirs and refused to use any of the energy. The benefits of his new method promised greatness. He only wished he could train for longer. The sense of accomplishment that fed his ego proved a powerful enticement for him. For years he had been weak and subject to the whims of the more powerful. He intended to ensure that state didn’t repeat.

  Whether his goal could be achieved was questionable. Entities such as the Lord General were far beyond him. Yet… why couldn’t he reach those heights himself one day? He had a true insight that could serve as a cheat code for cultivation.

  As he thought more about his insight, Volithur came up with ever more questions. He’d learned it from watching the Lord General, so why didn’t he have the slightest intuition for how to create a transit sphere? Did he only understand a single step of a rger process? Could he expand his grasp of ultimate reality over time to include the extra bits at a ter point? Did he even need to worry about something as particur as transit spheres when he could generate cosmic energy any pce at any time?

  Volithur didn’t know how people would react to his possession of a true insight. Khana thought it was rare and a great distinction. That made him want to shout the secret to anyone who would listen; publicly procim that he was special and worthy. Two things stopped him. First, concern that he might be accused of stealing techniques from the Lord General. Second, he didn’t want the family to stop giving him the elixirs that he didn’t need. They were going straight to Khana and he didn’t want to jeopardize the supply line.

  So he kept quiet. And trained under experts. And cultivated endlessly. His progress proved rapid. Then, three weeks after his wedding, his schedule suddenly changed.