Chương 20: A Gust of Wind

Kal had been trying to convert his pure mana into wind mana, but he hadn't made any progress. Well, he wasn't even sure if his mana was pure or something else, but based on his very little understanding, he believed it was. He could also be wrong and have the mana of whatever his core's shape was. Or… well, he really had no idea. Everything was too new to him. There was also the pressure of the demons a dozen meters away from him.

They were still there and hadn't dared to move a single step in his direction, as if they already had an imaginary line they weren't supposed to cross. Kal didn't blame them, as he too didn't want to go back. The mana phenomenon, now looking more like a storm, was growing more active by the moment. The outer layer of mana had begun moving in different directions around the beam. Some streams circled it, while others moved in seemingly random directions.

Each stream contained several different colors, shifting through it as it moved and making every one of them distinct. There were at least a dozen of them, all moving at once. The outer layer had expanded beyond the original beam and was now occupying even more space than before. The main beam glowed yellow, with parts of it turning green at the edges, making it much brighter than before.

He didn't dare move a muscle, at least not until it changed into something darker, allowing him more freedom without the threat of exposing himself. The other change was that the smell in the mountain had changed. It reeked of ozone; there was also the smell of roasting meat coming from the demons' fire. The smell had changed after an enormous explosion erupted inside the light beam, and since then, the smell of ozone had kept growing stronger. He returned his attention to the demons.

Whenever someone moved away from the main group, they would go down the path. Now, two of the demons were missing, while two others were watching his way. The other two, it seemed, were preparing food, as a cauldron was already over the fire they'd made some fifteen minutes ago. After a few more minutes of no change, Kal lowered his head behind cover. Most of the things he'd tried involved willing the mana to change into wind, and it hadn't had any effect.

That at least told him that he needed to find another direction. The first time he'd used wind mana had been when he absorbed the wyvern's core. The wyvern's core had already been filled with wind mana, which meant that his guess about pure mana might have been wrong from the start. But that wasn't something he should be focusing on right now. Even if he knew what kind of mana it was, it wouldn't change anything. He still had a guess about what kind of mana it might be—Lunar.

Mostly because of the information he'd gotten from the symbols, but since that didn't change anything, he gave up. That left him with trying something else. Instead of willing the mana to become wind, perhaps he needed to focus on the effect he wanted it to have, not its nature. He wasn't sure if the direction he was heading in would work, but at least he had a direction. Kal glanced at the mana phenomenon and waited. His whole body was hidden behind the enormous tree, but he didn't want to take the risk.

A few minutes slowly passed as the color shifted darker. The bright yellow changed to an almost golden, and now it was closer to brown than the gold from before. It wasn't as dark as he wanted it to be, but he couldn't delay things any longer. He put his hand back into the hole and took a deep breath. Hopefully, it would work. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine something like the mana phenomenon. An image slowly appeared in his mind: a tornado with the wind blowing in multiple directions.

He focused on the core next and pushed mana toward his hand. The burning sensation was still there, helping him track where the mana was. The mana slowly drifted toward his hand, and just before it reached his hand, it changed… somehow. He opened his eyes, but nothing changed. The familiar light of the mana wasn't there. He felt the palm of his hand grow hotter by the moment, so he closed his eyes again, focusing on the mana. But even inwardly, he wasn't able to see the change. What am I doing wrong?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The intensity of the burn kept increasing, and it became painful. Like he was holding burning charcoal in the palm of his hand. He tried to will it to leave his hand, or anything at all. Nothing changed, and the burning increased. It was becoming unbearable as Kal gritted his teeth. He imagined the same image from before, the tornado. The burning in his hand vanished, and the mana left his body.

It was different from the first time; it had a blue hint. He felt a small gust of wind blowing into the hole, scattering the dirt around it, and then it was gone, followed by a sharp pain in his chest. His eyes snapped closed, and his hands clutched his chest. The sharp pain persisted, and Kal would have almost let out a painful scream but managed to hold it in. Time slowly passed as he gritted his teeth. The pain wasn't going away, but its intensity had stayed the same from the beginning.

Somehow, he managed to keep himself from wailing and kicking in pain. Sweat trickled all over his body, and he felt every single drop sliding down his forehead. It stopped just like it had come, instantaneously. Kal didn't move even after it ended. He focused on his breathing, taking slow, deep breaths. When he felt comfortable breathing again, he took a deep breath and held it. After a few moments, he released it slowly, then took five quick breaths in succession.

It was the technique Carcian had taught him, the same one the Moonweaver had mentioned. His mind sharpened as soon as he completed the first step, then he continued to the second. After he'd gone over the first three steps of the technique, he fell into the breathing rhythm meant to keep it active: two deep breaths, followed by two quick ones. Even though he felt as if his heart was about to stop beating, pride still built up inside his chest. He succeeded.

He managed to create a small gust of wind before the pain exploded in his chest. He focused on the last few moments before the pain came. The gust of wind he'd made was blowing in one direction; the small earth particles it managed to pick up looked as if they were moving like they'd been caught up in the torrent of a tornado. Was that even possible? And moments later, the pain had arrived. Why was that? He fell into thought, trying to find what went wrong.

The first thing he remembered was that the mana had stopped in his palm. He needed to remake the image in his head before it finally moved, but even before that, before he even managed to move it, he needed to make the image. That book had mentioned something about imagination and holding an image. Was that this? Was the image he made the reason for his success? It made sense somewhat, but then again, what had he done wrong? What part of it had caused the sharp pain? He'd lost the image after he'd made it.

Perhaps that was why the mana had remained in his palm, burning him. After he made the same image again, the mana had left his body and produced the tiny effect. That much was clear. The other thing he knew was that other than imagination, he needed to know the principle behind it. Slowly, he came to some kind of answer. The effects of the breathing technique were making his thoughts flow more smoothly.

His best guess for the failure of the spell, if it could even be called a spell, was that he didn't know how to make the tornado, or even how it worked, and all of the other minor details in his image needed to form. All he did was hold the image of the mana phenomenon since it was the easiest thing to imagine as he was already seeing it, and he only changed it a bit to make it look more like wind.

The first time he'd used wind mana inside his core, he understood the principle behind the thing—well, mostly, the little tornado he'd managed to create. That led him toward the pain; perhaps the pain was because he failed to produce the spell or the imagined effect, losing control of the mana. Something happened after that, something he didn't understand. From the whole experience, he learned enough that he would avoid making the same mistake as before.

A few more minutes passed, and the color changed again, something close to grey. He closed his eyes and focused on creating an image. This time, it was only a gust of wind, something he felt on most windy days. When he felt comfortable with the image, he willed his mana to create the effect while focusing on the image. As soon as he felt the burning sensation moving through his arm, he opened his eyes slowly, careful not to lose the image. His hand glowed slightly, the same way as before.

It didn't illuminate the ground, just like he was seeing something that he shouldn't be seeing. A small gust of wind moved in the hole, moving the particles of earth that were light enough to be carried by it. A smile spread across his face. He had succeeded. And this time, there was no pain. He didn't waste too much time celebrating his success. It was only the first step he needed to go through before being able to create a distraction. He closed his eyes, studying his core.

The brightness had dimmed again, and much more than before. It didn't seem like he had too many attempts before it was empty. For his plan to work, he needed a lot of luck and a much stronger gust of wind. His plan was quite simple: throw a few berries into the food the demons were making, then hope his guess about the berries was correct. If it was, they'd be poisoned, hopefully enough that he could slip by them. If not, it was just going to add another flavor to their food.

But before he even tried to do so, he would need to create a much stronger gust. Strong enough to help him get the berries into the cauldron.