Enhance
The fire crackled in the quiet of the valley, a faint breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and charred wood. The sun had risen hours ago, but Hiwot had wasted no time. She had woken him while it was still dark out, and the two started Sabo’s journey towards Physical Enhancement.
Sabo sat cross-legged, hands on his knees, trying—and failing—to focus on his breathing.
“Physical Enhancement is one of the foundational aspects of higher-level Soulsinging,” Hiwot had explained earlier, her tone matter-of-fact, like a teacher repeating a lesson she had drilled into her own mind countless times. “During my training at Brightwash Military Academy, it’s what separated the elite from those sorry excuses for Soulsingers, who were shipped off to the frontlines early. It’s also what weeded out recruits. Most people can’t handle what it demands of their bodies, and even if done successfully, the quality of one’s Physical Enhancement means everything.”
That part, Sabo could believe. Brightwash Military Academy was infamous, training the best Soulsingers and soldiers in the entirety of the Ravaelian Empire—turning them into living weapons, forged to be unleashed in humanity’s never-ending war against the Maldrath.
“Beyond Physical Enhancement, there’s also something called Spiritual Refinement,” she continued. “But that’s a step you’re definitely not ready for. Yet.”
Sabo cracked an eye open. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
Hiwot smirked. “I don’t think you can handle this yet. So, let’s start with meditation.”
Sabo scowled. “What’s meditation?”
Hiwot provided a brief explanation of the exercises, which frankly confused him. He wasn’t sure how breathing and sitting still was going to make him stronger, but if this was the first step, then fine. He’d do it.
Gagan, surprisingly, had joined them. He sat opposite Sabo, back straight, looking absurdly peaceful. “This is actually pretty fun,” he said, eyes still shut. Within seconds he was frozen in that position, gently snoring.
Sabo sighed.
Hiwot continued walking them through the process. Breathing in. Holding it. Breathing out. Slow, controlled, methodical. Then, after a while, focusing—not on the world, not on the night air or the fire’s warmth, but inward. On the flow of mana through his body.
At first, he could only feel the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart. Then, the pumping of blood through his body’s circulatory system. He continued to breathe, focusing more inward.
It was like trying to listen for a single voice in the middle of a storm. The mana was there—he could feel it, a distant thrum beneath his skin—but it was subtle. Slippery. Whenever he reached for it, his thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. It was so much easier to sense his mana when he was channeling aether, pulling on the power now within him, to burn it. Like a forge of power at his core. This, however, was like trying to draw a forge from a firefly, using only his breath.
An hour passed. Then another.
At some point, Sabo stopped fidgeting. Stopped sighing. Stopped thinking so hard.
And then, finally, something shifted.
The mana wasn’t so distant anymore. It was a current, moving within him, like a river just beneath the surface of his skin. He could feel its flow now, tracing the paths it traveled, wrapping around his limbs, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
He opened his eyes. “Alright. I think I’ve got the meditation part.”
Hiwot gave him a look. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” she said. “Now, let’s see if you can actually do something with it.”
A slithering rasp curled against his ear.
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“This is where I can be of assistance,” Eater growled, its fang-filled maw parting along the skin of Sabo’s neck, stretching like an impossible wound. Its many teeth gleamed in the firelight, as if grinning. “You have been drinking deep of power, yet you have not even begun to properly devour it.”
A pulsing sensation pressed against the inside of Sabo’s skull, and then Yggdrasil’s interface flickered into view—neat lines of silvery script scrolling across his vision like an unseen scribe was writing directly into the air.
[Maldrath (Class: Walker) Devoured: 162]
[Maldrath (Hydra-Arm) Devoured: 60]
[Maldrath (Class: Abjuration) Devoured: 2]
Sabo blinked. He hadn’t realized how many Maldrath he had consumed using the [Devour] Skill. It wasn’t just the act of devouring and destroying the Maldrath itself—Eater had been hoarding these pieces of power like a miser counting his gold.
“At this point, you understand how the powers I lend you function,” Eater continued, its voice vibrating along his spine, silk and venom woven together. “But you have never asked why I have not transfigured this Maldrath energy into more Skills and Spells. Why your new connection to Yggdrasil has not blossomed further. This is why.”
Sabo frowned. It was a good point. He had simply assumed that the process was automatic, that whatever Eater absorbed would just occasionally manifest into something new. But the fact that Eater had been choosing what to transfigure—or not—was something he hadn’t considered. He wondered if Eater was able to control the transformation process. He wondered if he could gain access to some of that control, if he really tried. It wasn’t the time to explore that line of questioning, but he tucked the thought away for later.
He narrowed his eyes. “So, why were you saving all this, then?”
Eater’s many fangs gleamed wider. Sabo could feel his skin grow taught in response to the entity’s large grin.
“Because, my little vassal,” it purred, “not all power should be spent cheaply.”
“Begin the process, Hiwot,” commanded Eater.
Hiwot stood from her own meditative position and approached Sabo, taking a seat directly in front of him. Her crimson eyes locked onto his own. “Typically, specific Artifacts are used to trigger the process of Physical Enhancement. However, I will have to do. You will fall into a meditative trance, focusing on your mana flow—just like we’ve been practicing—and then I will send spikes of my own mana into your system. Whatever you do, keep focusing and breathing. If you break the trance, the consequences could be disastrous. There will be pain… a lot of pain. Work through it.”
“Now or never…” he said, though his voice sounded half as confident as he wanted it to.
The world around him faded, slipping away into darkness as Sabo let himself sink into the stillness of meditation. His breathing slowed, his mind focused, and the flow of mana inside him became something he could feel—like threads of warmth threading through his limbs, coiling in his chest, surging at the base of his spine.
Then, Hiwot’s fingers pressed against his sternum, right above his heart.
A spike of warmth. Sharp, invasive. The foreign mana slithered into his channels like oil spreading through water, thick and heavy.
“Your body will resist,” Hiwot’s voice came from somewhere above, distant and controlled. “Good. Let it. You must learn to fight back, Sabo. To claim your power.”
Then the pain began.
Sabo’s entire body seized. His muscles clenched, his skin felt like it was being pierced from the inside by a thousand invisible needles. His mana recoiled, writhing against the intrusion, lashing out in desperate, instinctive defense. He gasped, but his breath hitched—it was like drowning, like being swallowed by his own body.
Hiwot didn’t stop. Another pulse of mana, another sharp lance of agony rippling through his core. His bones ached, his blood burned. He wanted to thrash, to shove her hand away, to make it stop—
And then a voice slithered into his mind, rich and dark.
Eater.
The words were meant to be reassuring, but Sabo barely had time to process them before everything exploded within him.
A torrent of something—raw, searing, endless—rushed through him. It was as if the battle raging inside him had suddenly been thrown into chaos, his own mana surging like a storm, Hiwot’s invasion pushing harder, and Eater’s power ripping through everything in its path.
Heat.
Fiery, unbearable heat.
His skin felt like it was blistering, his veins like molten rivers tearing through flesh and bone. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles convulsing with raw, unchecked power. His mind teetered on the edge of oblivion, torn between the pain and the inferno swelling inside him.
He was burning.
He was dying.
No—
He was becoming.
And then, suddenly—it broke.
[Devour]
His eyes shot open, his lungs dragging in a breath, deep and pure and real. Sweet, like the first inhale of air after nearly drowning.
The world sharpened. The pain was gone.
For the first time in his life, Sabo felt whole. Steam curled off of his body, but the silver, glowing text in his vision cut through the veil of steam.
[Physical Enhancement: Complete]
[Soulsinger Body: Titan]
[Physical Attributes enhanced!]
[Mental Attributes enhanced!]
[New Passive Skills available!]
[Soulsinger Body Improved: Titan upgraded to Hunger Titan]
[Physical Attributes enhanced!]
[Mental Attributes enhanced!]
[New Passive Skills available!]
Sabo blinked away the notifications and found Hiwot’s eyes as the steam cleared. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.
Gagan, who had apparently woke up from his nap—er, meditation—whistled. “Would you look at that!”
Wait, Sabo thought, looking down at Hiwot. Did she just shrink?
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