Chương 4: 3A. The Final Bastion

The pounding of knuckles on wood snapped Sam out of his deep slumber. The dull drone of distant whispers filled his ears straight away. It was nowhere near as bad as when on the third level of the abyss, but still an unnerving annoyance.

"Your time's up, Mister Roy!" A woman's hoarse voice called.

"Pack up and get out."

"I paid for a bath and breakfast!" Sam called back, his muscles sore from the job and the spar.

"Fine. I'll give you an hour's pass to the bathhouse, and the porridge will be ready by the time you finish. But I need the room now."

"What if I want to stay another night?" Sam groaned, sitting up and stretching. A series of clicks and cracks ran down his spine. The mattress was far from comfortable, but he'd been too exhausted to care when he went to bed the night before.

"Then you come back in the evening and pay for a room like everyone else. It's first come, first served here. No reservations. You know this, Mister Roy."

"I know. I know. Just give me a minute, Jen." Sam didn't bother dressing fully. Most of his belongings were in the secure lockers Jen kept in her office. Mostly money and a couple of his late parents' effects. He hastily pulled on his shirt and trousers, bundled up his jacket, boots, and socks, and slung his small rucksack over his shoulder. Jen waited outside with her hand outstretched, and a man who looked as haggard as Sam had the night before.

He dropped the key to the room—more like a broom closet—in her palm before leaving the floor. The boarding house was once a commercial gym. They'd converted the pool and showers into a bathhouse for most of the neighborhood. It was still early in the morning. As a result, it was mostly empty. I miss the academy's facilities. While an employee of Bastion Academy, Sam had his own quarters in the staff wing. It was just a room with a bed, a desk, and a closet, but it had a private toilet and bath.

He was evicted after losing his job. Since then, he had taken one job after another, never staying in the city for more than three days at a time. It no longer made economic sense to find a long-term rental—they were sparse and far too expensive for someone of his meager means—and the boarding house made far more sense. He prioritized saving everything that didn't go towards room, board, and supplies. Two weeks of filth took almost twenty minutes to scrub out in the freezing showers.

By the time Sam finished, his skin was raw and smelled of the handmade herbal soap bars that filled the bathhouse. The heated children's pool made for a nice place to soak afterward. Minors weren't allowed in the bathhouse until later in the day, so he didn't feel self-conscious floating in his birthday suit and thinking about everything he had read the previous evening. After dinner, Sam had retired to his room, exhausted and ready for sleep.

Unfortunately, excitement surrounding the technique manual kept him awake and alert. He had read the introduction so many times that its excerpts echoed in his head. Pulsing Palm is the foundation of several branching open-palm techniques. Broken bones and ruptured organs are a bonus born of mastery and fortunate strikes. The purpose of Pulsing Palm is to send rippling waves of raw ether into the opponent's body that disrupt their internal systems.

Whether the ether's objective is to kill or stun is determined by its nature, potency, the user's intent, and the difference in the user's and target's strength. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Since Pulsing Palm relies on the user's control over the flow of their internal ether, mastery of any martial art is unnecessary but helpful. Footwork and mobility will help get in an opponent's range, get around their defense or offense, and land a blow.

If the palm strike misses or the ether release is mistimed, defensive measures may be necessary until a safe retreat is possible. Ether control, shaping, and manipulation techniques are compulsory. They're vital to Pulsing Palm's growth and evolution beyond a simple disabling tactic. Internal Ether Flow provided Sam with the perfect starting point for Pulsing Palm. He guessed Thomas had assumed as much when giving him the manual.

The diagrams showed how the user needed to concentrate their ether into a tight sphere within their hand and inject it into their foes through the strike. The sphere's collapse and the target's conflicting internal ether would cause it to ripple and pulse, disrupting and causing chaos. When Sam imagined his future as an awakened, he saw himself as more of a mid-to-long-range fighter. In his student days, he had taken compulsory martial arts classes but was far from good.

His days as a training dummy hadn't helped him improve by much.

"You're not terrible," one of the academy's melee combat trainers had told him.

"Everyone else is just far better. Your hesitation is also a fault that can prove fatal in the field." Most basic melee-technique manuals Sam had browsed during his time as a librarian revolved around enhancing one's body, empowering strikes, or manifesting weapons. As a result, they all relied on martial prowess. Meanwhile, Pulsing Palm's greatest external requirements after Internal Ether Flow were footwork to get in range and retreat. It was perfect for stunning foes and fleeing.

The manual also suggested it had the potential to become far more. Pulsing Wave. Pulsing Aura. Pulsing Sphere. Pulsing Cannon. During his time as a librarian, Sam loved reading journals that didn't detail the blueprints and functions of techniques, but contained diary entries by their users or observers. Mention of palm techniques was rare since they weren't particularly flashy. More focused on spell users and ranged attackers, he hadn't given them much focus.

Now, he racked his brain, trying to recall the few examples he had encountered. Sam remembered a mention of one that caused internal explosions in the target. There were also several elemental variations like Burning Palm and Shocking Grasp. Most interesting of all was an account of an awakened woman who could sprout long spectral arms from her back. She used them for mobility and different types of palm strikes, overwhelming her foes. You're getting ahead of yourself. Find an awakening seed first.

A spirit bond second. Then, you can start dreaming of advanced techniques.

"Excuse me," a woman said, snapping Sam out of his daze.

"The children's pool is for women only after seven."

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly, climbing out of the bath. The nudity didn't bother him so much as having to be reminded about the bathhouse's rules.

"I lost track of time." Modesty was a luxury most bathhouse users couldn't afford. The rules required people to leave all clothes outside, since even the best laundries struggled to remove the Abyss's contaminants. They needed to thoroughly scrub themselves afterward before entering the pools. Since everyone was naked, it made sense to segregate the genders. Distance likely offered much-needed comfort and an acceptable substitute for privacy. Breakfast was ready by the time Sam bathed and pulled on fresh clothes.

His old shirt was too far gone, so he put it in the scrap pile. He washed everything in the shower and left it out on the communal drying ropes to hang. Given their condition and value, he believed it highly unlikely anyone would steal them. Breakfast was quick and simple. The landlady had prepared a giant pot of rice porridge filled with pork skin and offal. It was hot, filling, and flavorful with an assortment of interesting textures.

It was far better than anything he ate while on the road, and he wasn't one to complain. The fact that it included any fresh meat was a treat. As a porter, Sam was responsible for arranging meals on the road. He usually whipped together stews or soups using dried meats, mushrooms, and herbs. Occasionally, he added foraged tubers and vegetables to the mix. They often turned out salty and unappetizing, but they moistened the hard, dry bread in their supply packs.