《Soul 1/2 (A progression fantasy, Academy story)》Golems

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The next two days had been mostly a rinse and repeat of the first one, with Alt working on increasing his purification output. He had become quite adept at pulling in a large quantity of environmental mana, but the real issue had been the bottleneck at the nucleus, with each incoming batch of mana feeling like needles were piercing his chest and forcing him to slow down. As it was, his current output was clearly insufficient to sustain the heat necessary to hold on for an hour under the waterfall, but he was still making progress since his pain tolerance had grown. He thought that expanding the nucleus might result in greater acceptance of mana particles, so he forced himself to stuff the nucleus to its brink again and again before releasing his particles. While the nucleus was now no longer the size of a peanut, it seemed to make no noticeable difference to the pain he was experiencing with every attempt. The increased volume allowed him to purify a greater amount of mana at a time, but it was all for naught if he would take an awful lot of time to fill it in the first place.

He was about to throw in the towel and conclude that he was pursuing a wrong path, when his eyes fell on his spiral tattoo, which was sporadically growing, usually when he pushed the nucleus to the limit.

Maybe it can help me again?

Altair sent a burst of elemental mana to it, lighting it up and hoping for mystical effects to appear or some sort of enlightenment to strike him. Neither came, and he decided to try the purification again, to see if there was a difference. As the first batch of mana reached the nucleus, he twitched in anticipation of the painful sting, but to his astonishment, the particles passed peacefully through.

Huh... Wow... I can't believe it didn't hurt. He had grown so accustomed to being stung that the relief from hurt almost made him cry from joy.

Let's do it again.

"Ouch!" he blurted out loud. This time, it was like he was back at the very beginning.

Dammit, the effects are inconsistent again...

Remembering how the nucleus seemed to have some sort of connection with the spiral tattoo, Altair got a hunch. He sent mana to the design again, except this time he used his puny reserves of the translucent particles. They should have been barely enough to make it glow dimly, but instead it shone like a powerful lamp, making him shut his eyes because of the close proximity.

This was the first time the tattoo had produced such an effect. Eagerly, he repeated the purification process, finding the first and second batches of mana easily entering his nucleus. He tried a bigger portion at a time and was thrilled to see it had reached the insides just the same. At the fifth batch, he felt a stinging pain, which would have crumbled his hopes, except it wasn't as bad as before. Contrary to his expectations, the next two attempts again went by smoothly. Now on average he was able to bring six or seven new batches in before something went wrong, and he had to grind his teeth to endure. This was still like the difference between night and day compared to his previous results. At this pace, he thought he had a real shot now of completing the witch's task.

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Move-in day was tomorrow, and he didn't want to stick around this cursed place for a minute longer than he had too, missing dearly the comforts of civilization. Altair stepped for the first time in two days under the waterfall, immediately remembering just how bad it had been. He quickly relieved the discomfort by generating a field of heat across his skin. After exhausting the reserves from his two crimson channels, he switched to pure mana as the source. His fire mana, although brief, had been sufficient to keep his entire body warm, but pure mana was another story. Because particle for particle it produced considerably less results than its elemental counterpart, Altair had to use a dangerously large amount to counteract the freezing water. He had permeated his spiral tattoo with pure mana beforehand, and thankfully it made the purification process mostly bearable. The issue was that the previous pace of recharging Altair had achieved was still insufficient to keep him from shivering and clacking his teeth. He tried to lower the heat he was generating to the absolute minimum necessary in order to reduce the strain on the nucleus but concentrating enough while being bombarded by hundreds of liters was a long shot. Still, he persevered, until he could no longer feel his feet. He broke out of the trance, realizing that continuing would put him in grave danger. He crawled out onto dry land, his legs spasming. As he brought his head up to the hourglass, he could see about half of the sand grains were still remaining in the upper chamber, before it reset itself.

Not so bad... quite the improvement from my first attempt, he thought while rubbing his legs in an attempt to restore circulation. But it would be really stupid to try again just to come up short. What else can I do?

He decided that in order to succeed, he would have to make use of all resources at his disposal, even if it would push him beyond his limits. Alt carefully ventured to gather some firewood, preparing a pile as close as possible to the water pool, while sheltering it with rocks so the resulting flames didn't disperse. Using Inferno, he lit it up, taking a few moments to indulge in the warm breeze before he tackled the waterfall for the hopefully last time.

He made his way back to the impact point, tense as stone in anticipation.

It's now or never!

Altair stood tall under the barrage of water, not wanting to risk sitting to ensure he didn't lose touch with his feet beyond the point of no return. He had a better sense now of the amount of mana needed to sustain the heat and sent into action his fire reserves to bring his body temperature to normal. Unlike last time, he was able to rely on the crimson particles for longer, as he focused to bring in reinforcements from the makeshift campfire he had prepared. If only it had been closer, then maybe he could sustain the heat indefinitely. At this rate, his fire reserves would still dry up, but he had accounted for that. While waiting for the inevitable, Altair started also to affect the aquatic mana generated from the waterfall, succeeding in slightly lessening the intensity of the stream. As his crimson channels became depleted, he kickstarted his pure mana veins, while concentrating to bring in as many fresh crimson mana particles before the pure mana he had evaporated. Once the translucent channels were empty, he again relied on fire mana, still partially recharging the rouge channels while at the same time keeping the purification process going. Having double the mana sources was just enough to keep him warm, so now it was a question of whether his concentration would endure for an entire hour or if he would break sooner under the strain of managing so many elements at once, while experiencing the occasional stabbing in the nucleus.

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Alt had positioned himself so that the hourglass would be in his view, and as his fatigue increased, he found himself glancing at it more and more often. He wanted to lose himself in some sort of pleasant fantasy, itching for a moment of respite but he couldn't afford the concentration to slip, as getting back into the groove while being chilled to the bone would be more than he could chew.

He was trembling by the time the hourglass’ s lower compartment was half full. Not from the cold, but due to the spiritual strain from the multitasking that was taking its toll. The temptation to just let go was growing stronger by the moment, but so did the flashes of painful memories of all the injustices he faced so far. The anger gave him the power to carry on. He would never give up and bow before them, he vowed for the umpteenth time - "them" in this case being the collective oppressors that had made his and his families lives hell. Occasionally, good memories surfaced too, particularly the mischievous smile of a special someone that he wanted to protect at all costs.

The grains of sand kept falling at a glacial pace, and Altair continued juggling the various energies, feeling his core to be pulsing from the overexertion. For an instant, he entertained the foolish thought of whether he could affect the sand grains, to make them fall down quicker. There was no easy way out however, and he gritted his teeth for the final push. Only a few minutes remained according to his calculations, and he was damned if he would give up now. As the last particle left the upper chamber, he allowed himself to drop on the knees, ceasing the purification cycle, and having a hard time to tell where he was or what he was even doing.

The cold water returned him to his senses, and he began crawling to dry land, the realization of his feat not sinking in just yet. He realized something was off when the ground began to tremble, and the hourglass began emitting a pillar of light.

What's going on? Is it going to transport me back?

Altair tried to get back on his feet, but the shaking earth combined with the slippery rocks sent him back tumbling. He stayed down until the tremors finally subsided, keeping an eye on the source of the illumination. The hourglass began to crack and from the insides three golem-like creatures emerged. Because of the constraints of their previous prison, they were barely the height of Altair's navel.

The teen boy observed them in awe, unsure at how these clearly artificial creatures could move. They didn’t appear to be too threatening with their child-like physique, that is until they started to levitate nearby rocks and began integrating them into their bodies, growing into bulky, horrifying giants with orange light emanating from their eye sockets.

Altair was appalled at this development, and his first instinct was to run far away. If the witch was going to rescue him, she could do so from elsewhere, as he had no intentions of sticking around to see what the giants would do next. Unfortunately, the waterfall was at a dead-end, and to escape he would have to go through the three towering figures first, who were wreaking more havoc by the minute with their steps heavy enough to crush stone.

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