[The Twining] 9. Time to Go

Ros didn’t think much of Isen commencing his advancement in the bathroom. The boy had done his other minor tempering breakthroughs in there as well. Ros was too large to fit inside the door, but it knew there was a tub with running water inside. Sometimes, Isen brought water out for the beast to drink or wash with.

The mist in the sanctum was agitated, erratic like a storm and overwhelming like a flood. In a more monster-heavy part of the depths, the mist couldn’t be so easily affected by a single creature’s advancement, but in the isolated sanctum, Ros and Isen were the only ones regularly pulling on the energy.

This made the sanctum an ideal place for a breakthrough, which was part of why Ros had been so flippant about Isen commencing his tier-up. It should have been easy. Quick. The energy should have gushed in and saturated his hollow core to facilitate the formation of a ring, and then retreated, leaving Isen to consolidate his gains.

But when the advancement dragged on, taking far longer than was normal, Ros grew agitated. If Isen had started his advancement in the main area of the sanctum, Ros could at least intervene if there were deviations in the flow of energy through his changing body.

Ros’s feelings toward Isen were complicated. They were friendly to each other but kept a comfortable distance. Ros didn’t know Isen’s past, and Isen didn’t know the beast’s. Aside from the shared goal of escape, they had made no plans for a future together.

Even though the beast told itself that it didn’t need the boy’s sixth sense to achieve his goals, Ros’s heart knew the truth. The beast had grown attached to its cultivation pupil. Isen failing here would be devastating.

With a low whine, Ros squeezed its head through the bathroom door, though it was tight. It bellowed the boy’s name along with various admonishments, but there was no response. The energy flowed around the beast, thick like heavy fog.

Ros withdrew and snarled in frustration, but decided there was nothing to be done. Cultivation was a personal journey for most, especially for individuals forced to carve their own paths. The rate of success was typically low, far lower than Isen knew.

The first hurdle was to sense the energy of the world and draw it in, something made far easier with enhanced vision. Most people and beasts never received the gift to visually perceive the world’s energy, so they needed to develop a way to feel it, which required time and intense concentration—resources most lacked. Then they would need to refine and temper themselves.

Watching Isen do it, refining and tempering looked simple, fluid—easy. But for most, it was a trial. It was like climbing a mountain. Without familiarity and guidance, a novice cultivator—seeing only the peak—would try to climb straight up the mountain. But those with guides could ascend it by taking less obvious paths with few impediments and minimal danger.

Isen had no guide, but he didn’t need one. His sixth sense showed him the way.

Ros would have to trust the boy—or at least his preternatural instincts.

Gradually, the flow of energy lessened. Ros sat by the bathroom door and waited for Isen to wake.

Finally, when the energy flow returned to baseline, Ros called out again, but there was no response. It realized that Isen was unconscious, cycling trace amounts of energy with each breath.

Tiering up could be painful—especially with impurities from lesser monsters—but again, Isen had benefited significantly from the golden blood of the bear beast. His impurities should be minimal. The process shouldn’t have left him catatonic.

It must be because of how much energy he absorbed.

***

Isen sputtered awake, slipping in the tub. He sucked in a breath, disoriented by the still-running shower and his changed body.

He felt uncoordinated, like his limbs were too responsive, reacting faster than his brain could process. He tried to lean over and turn the water off, only to somehow lean too far and smack his eyebrow on the lip of the basin.

It didn’t hurt, but it put him in a sour mood. Had he somehow failed his advancement, becoming weaker?

“Boy,” Ros’s voice thundered from the threshold. Isen could just barely see the door from the tub. Ros’s head was jammed into it. “You’re awake.”

“Presently a bit stuck,” Isen muttered. “I’m wary of moving.”

“Just go slowly. It’s normal to feel uncoordinated. The effect is exaggerated in monsters, since our forms change more dramatically when we tier up.”

Isen felt better knowing that he hadn’t botched his advancement. He exhaled slowly, then began to cycle. If he couldn’t move, he might as well see what cycling as a hollow ring cultivator was like.

The energy didn’t come faster, nor did he pull in more of it, but Isen was struck by the difference in quality. The mist wasn’t better; he was just taking more from it. He hadn’t realized how inefficient his cycling had been. He glanced over to Ros, who was still observing him closely. I wonder how much more Ros can wring out of each cycle.

“The first tier is only the very first step. The start of refinement and temperance. Before cultivating, what is the core?”

Isen frowned. The water washed over his torso and swirled around the drain. When he’d first started, his core had clearly been there. He’d been able to fill it with energy without making any preparations.

When he considered his core now, it felt much more solid. He could actually feel it in his stomach, even when he stopped cycling. It was a warm, fist-sized ring.

“I guess… in the beginning, my core was barely there. It was just an empty space inside me, one I couldn’t perceive. Hollow.”

“The hollow formation stage has its name for a reason. Now, look inside yourself. What does your core feel like now?”

He answered without hesitation. “A ring.”

“But still empty, which is why the second tier is called the hollow ring stage. Right now, you should have only a single ring.” The beast paused. “It is only a single ring, right?”

“One ring,” Isen confirmed. Feeling more in control of himself, he reached over and managed to shut the water off. Ros paused, allowing him time to escape the tub. He remained in the nude while waiting to dry. At the second tier, he felt no discomfort from the cool air of the depths.

When he reached the door, Ros’s head was still blocking it. “Were you worried for me?” Isen asked.

“You took a while.” Ros withdrew and Isen followed, reentering the main chamber. “You have a single ring now,” the scaled beast continued, “but you’ll need to turn the ring into a hollow sphere by forming many rings and merging them together. That’s the goal of the second tier. Can you guess the progression of the third?”

Isen recalled the name of the third tier—the core consolidation stage. “Filling the sphere—the core—in?”

“Yes.”

“It seems so simple, when explained like that.”

“Simple, but hard.”

Isen pointed to Ros’s chest. “What does a consolidated core feel like?”

“For me… it is like a second heart made of cold metal, pumping energy through my body.” Ros swished its tail. “It’ll be a while until you need to worry about filling your sphere. Focus on your one ring for now.”

Isen nodded and sat down. After hearing the fox beast’s explanation, he wanted to cycle again and examine how the ring affected his cultivation. The mist filled his throat and sank into his core, circulating within. When it passed through the ring at a perpendicular, the energy felt most potent. He tried to direct the mist to only pass through at the optimal angle, but it warred against him, spinning uncontrollably.

He suspected that, while better controlling the mist within his core was a good goal, it shouldn’t be his focus. By the time he reached the peak of the second tier, every angle of approach would be valid.

A few minutes in, he had to stop. His body felt completely drained, his meridians aching. He supposed it was a byproduct of cycling so much more energy.

He stood and stretched, then headed for the bedroom. “Ros, wake me in an hour. Just taking a break.”

When he woke up, he felt groggy. Ros had definitely let him sleep for longer than an hour, but he couldn’t be angry. He’d been pushing himself hard the past few weeks, excited to reach the peak of the first tier. Now that he’d advanced to the second, he could take a breather.

Isen pushed himself out of bed and shuffled over to his clothes. He donned his pants, but left the tattered shirt on the floor. His tempered body wasn’t bothered by the ambient chill, and the shirt offered no other benefit than modesty.

When he emerged in the main room of the sanctum, Ros was chewing on part of the bear’s meat. It didn’t need to eat monster meat to survive, but the divine flesh was still beneficial for its cultivation. The bear was mostly skin and bone at this point, so the days that Ros could enjoy its meat were numbered.

Isen walked over to the corpse—which refused to rot, courtesy of its divinity—and stuck his hand into a rubbery vein that used to flow from its heart. He pulled his hand back and licked at his fingers, cycling to refine the divine blood. Even after a year it tasted like honey.

Ros stopped after swallowing and fixed its golden gaze on Isen. “You’re at the second tier,” it stated. “You know what that means.”

Isen nodded. They couldn’t stay in the sanctum forever. They’d both agreed to use it as a shelter until Isen grew strong enough to hold his own in the depths. “It’s time to go.”

When he thought of leaving, he felt dread. The sanctum was in the pit of the world, but it was safe, had unlimited water, food in the form of the bear, the nicest bed he’d ever used, and a bathroom fit for an archmage.

He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to find it again once they truly left, roaming far away in the lightless corridors.

“We won’t leave until you’ve fully adjusted to your new strength, but it shouldn’t take you more than a few days. Make your preparations.”

“Okay.”

“Listen, boy,” Ros said, “this place is a trap. It’s convenient. Easy. But if you stay here, you’ll never find the insights you need to take the next step. Whatever you see here, you can find on the surface.”

“Maybe,” Isen muttered. “I’m not so sure about the books.”

“Then take some with you.”

“They’re heavy.”

Ros chuffed. “Then use some of your precious bedsheet to create a rucksack, then tie it to me. I’ll carry them. I wish we could do the same for the meat and blood, but we’ll make do without. Besides... I have a feeling you’ll return to this place one day in the future.”

Isen crossed his arms. “Really?”

“You can’t read any of the books here,” Ros pointed out. “Just imagine how much of an opportunity it will be if you come back to the depths with the necessary people or skills to decipher them.”

Isen blinked. He hadn’t thought of that. “Are most monsters as smart as you?”

Ros stood and swished its tail. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself when you meet others at the third tier.”

Isen snorted, then stood and grabbed his spear from off the wall. “Care to help me practice?”

Ros bowed forward. “Let’s see just how far you’ve come.”