Chương 26: 14A. Wielding The Law

The following days became an exercise in exploration, repairs, and cleaning. Sam relied on IEF and Feathestep as much as possible since they consumed significantly less Ether. He moved more carefully when shifting and removing rubble, turning to Terminus only when he faced an obstacle he couldn't handle or ignore. Since the food stores were plentiful and the creatures on the roof seemed nocturnal, Sam didn't bother them for the time being.

Oros couldn't get close without disturbing the beasts, so they failed to get a closer look. However, the familiar had heard their screechy cries and clicking during the night. Sam hoped they could coexist until he was significantly stronger. In an ideal scenario, Iris would recover soon, and she would help him with the threat, or they'd return to Bastian, and he wouldn't need to deal with her at all.

Sam got significantly more use out of Genesis, repairing things around the compound to improve defenses and make things more comfortable. Things proved more challenging and complicated as he explored the attunements. After searching the other three buildings, Sam found a second-floor room that served as a dormitory. Cots lined the giant room that likely once housed a sea of cubicles. Unfortunately, creatures had broken through the windows and come up the stairs, spreading ruin through the structure.

Dried blood covered floors, walls, and the furniture. Claws had ripped open mattresses, and no cot frame stood intact. Sam started by using a Genesis-charges Pulsing Palm on a cot. Instead of the damage repairing itself, the length of wood he struck twisted and expanded into a cylinder as thick as his thigh. Its near-geometric perfection came next; knobbles and crooks followed. Traces of bark appeared before Genesis's effects finally faded.

"Oros, what the hell is this?" Sam asked, half out loud, half telepathically.

"I was fixing the cot. Why the hell is it turning into a tree?"

"Intent is just as important as function," the familiar replied.

"You can't just leave it up to the ether. Give it instruction, tell it to target the cot. Not the wood."

"I didn't think of that." He frowned.

"Shouldn't it just default to whatever was the most recent?"

"Ether will follow the path of least complexity and resistance unless guided otherwise. It's often more efficient. Genesis will return things to their most natural form unless instructed otherwise, and Terminus will guide them toward their most obvious end."

"How the fuck does someone direct and control a pulse?" Sam asked, approaching another cot.

"Just visualize it." The esoteric visualization and belief methods used by the more traditional martial artists in Bastian didn't work for Sam. Many claimed they learned their techniques and fighting styles from spirits or mysterious travelers in the Abyss. Will. Intent. They often spoke of such concepts. Sam sided with the more scholarly types who studied manuals, concepts, and attunements, and tried to connect them to tangible subjects that aligned with scientific understanding.

The second attempt to repair a cot brought the same results. The carved, joined pieces of wood exploded, coming apart and growing into thick branches and trunks. Sam just about avoided a monstrous length before it could impale his gut. Even though he had held the clear image of an intact cot, the ether didn't obey him. Is it the fucking vessel? Did I make it too rigid? Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Now that Sam had awakened his soulspace, seen flashes of Ouroboros' previous partners, he needed to adapt. The scholarly way of thinking made Pulsing Palm easy to use and control. However, he lacked the freedom to modify the ability and bend it to his will. He now understood that flexibility made techniques more expensive and harder to use, but it was essential for growth and development. When Sam used Pulsing Palm again, he didn't rely on the vessel.

Instead, he focused on everything he had learned and felt over the past handful of days. Sam centered himself before each use of the technique, closely studying how the ether flowing through his channels behaved. He did his best to emulate the process, but it was far from perfect. The Terminus-attuned ether protested as he compressed it into a sphere. A rigid outer shell of several fragile layers contained the compressed energy. Sam invested half as much in the technique as a usual Pulsing Palm.

He took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled, sending the sphere slowly through his arm. The sphere's outermost layer shattered as it flowed from his palm into the remains of the third cot.

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed when, instead of the wood expanding into unusually grown branches and trunks, it began to regrow as a cot. Broken pieces came together, and missing fragments appeared out of thin air. He ignored the discomfort in his elbow and shoulder.

"I did it! I actually did it!"

"Not bad," Oros said. She didn't put it into words, but the telepathic connection betrayed how impressed she was when Sam shared an image of the almost-new frame.

"Are you going to waste more ether on a mattress?"

"Not today. It can be an exercise for tomorrow. Even though I used maybe half as much ether, I've somehow burned more than a full Pulsing Palm."

"It's the compression and channeling," Oros explained.

"You're untrained. The more you wield ether, the more easily it will all come to you. Best to grow the vessels in the short term. There is much room for improvement." Sam carried the cot out of the building to the storeroom. Iris's color had improved. He removed the covers and checked her wounds. Her body had pushed more of the spike out. The dark veins were still prominent, but their population seemed sparser. Iris was healing, but far too slowly to help or flee anytime soon.

Sacks, old clothes, and comforters served as a temporary mattress. Sam carefully moved Iris to the new bed, then cleaned her and covered her up. He wasn't sure the wipe-downs helped, but it didn't hurt to reduce the risk of infection.

"Could I fix her with Genesis?" Sam asked.

"Perhaps someday," the familiar answered.

"The former wielders of father's powers often functioned as emergency healers, bringing back their companions from near-death. But that requires mastery and finesse well beyond your capabilities. Try your hand at minor lacerations first. Then broken bones." It was late in the day. After a quick lunch of preserved fruits and vegetables, Sam meditated, letting his consciousness slip into his soulspace. The vessels hadn't changed since he first built them, but the world around them looked nearly unrecognizable.

Green, blue, and black added color to the bleak grey. A new intangible sense told him how much of each building material he had. Most talents impacted how techniques functioned or interacted with attunements. Sam hadn't heard of any that lacked direct combat application like Ouroboros's gift. It granted him two unique attunements and allowed Oros to turn essences and corruption into materials for his vessels.

That she could keep generating the same materials, albeit in small quantities, meant Sam could furnish his soulspace faster than most. There was four times as much emerald and sapphire as metallic black. Sam grew IEF's vessel to four feet. Instead of raising straight toward the sky, Sam twisted the pillar toward the second vessel, making it look like the start of a giant beanstalk bending under its own weight. He carved it next, focusing on the contents of the technique manual he had committed to heart.

Internal Ether Flow's foundation revolved around controlling the energy in one's body. It was relatively simple: increase the flow rate to hasten movement and marginally increase strength. Later stages focused on focusing ether in different parts of the body for bursts of power or empowering techniques. At its peak, IEF enhanced the nervous system, increasing reaction time and reflexes. It was perfect for what Sam had envisioned for his life as an awakened.

Once all the elements of IEF came together, he'd have the speed to keep his distance from foes, bursts of power for emergencies when a close-range exchange was inevitable, and sharper nerves to use everything better.