Sister Mia left that same evening, as soon as the parents got back. Later that night, I overheard their conversation and confirmed she hadn't lied to me. They really had borrowed money from her to pay off the butcher, and apparently the man was satisfied with the outcome. Dad, on the other hand, was convinced we'd overpaid — said that kind of money could've healed two Happongs — while Mom kept telling him it was better this way than making an enemy of the butcher.

  Was the guy really that influential in this town? I never would've guessed. Then again, I barely remembered how things worked around here — I'd been too young. It was from my sister, right before she left, that I'd learned there were only three people in all of Daiward who'd reached the second stage of the tenth step: the butcher, the town magistrate, and the head of the watchmen who kept order.

  Usually, anyone who actually develops their abilities doesn't stick around Daiward. The town's too small. It's the biggest settlement in the area, but only because it has two factories. There's simply nothing here for strong warriors. Varander, though — the provincial capital where Crimson Retribution's headquarters are based — that place boasts practitioners of a much higher caliber. And Reckoning Day there is a whole different spectacle. I'd heard they have over a dozen squares, each with its own Eternal.

  So why had Governor Akhon shown up here in person?

  The thought snagged on something and wouldn't let go. The governor runs Varander. What business did he have giving speeches in our little backwater? Then again, did it really matter? Probably just a reminder to the common folk that they hadn't been forgotten. Maybe the governor made appearances in different towns each year, and it just happened to be our turn.

  That morning I promised Mom I wouldn't cause any trouble, but she still wouldn't let me outside. And to make things worse, Dad found rotten vegetables at the door again. Right... I'd already started forgetting about that. Here was another reason my sister hadn't fought the payment to the butcher. The rumors about me going to hell were picking up steam, and the butcher could easily weaponize them to make our lives miserable, given his influence.

  All the more reason to survive this week and show everyone I wasn't going anywhere.

  The warehouse was untouched, and I got back to preparing traps for the fight with the gatekeeper demon. I'd already picked my position — the spot where I needed to be standing when it appeared. Everything after that depended on precise calculations. But things weren't going as smoothly as I'd hoped. First, I didn't have the strength for some of the work. I had to get creative with lever systems, which ate up a lot of time. Second, I desperately needed proper tools. And I had no idea where to get them.

  That was how my third day ended. I got home well after dark, sat through another round of parental disapproval, and was told they'd lock me in my room tomorrow. They were worried — and I couldn't exactly tell them what I'd been doing all this time.

  Day four started with breakfast, after which I escaped my room via the drainpipe without asking for Mom's permission. She would've said no anyway. But this time I didn't head for the warehouse first. I went to Dad's factory. Where else was I going to find tools?

  Over five hundred people work there, so blending into the crowd was easy. Plus, the school is in a building right next to the factory. Kids wander in during breaks all the time to see their parents and eat lunch together. I used to eat with Dad whenever I had classes. I found what I needed pretty quickly: a saw, a hammer, a chisel, some nails...

  I thought smuggling it all out would be the hard part, but I just loaded everything into a bag and walked off the grounds looking like I owned the place. Nobody noticed. It was only about ten minutes later that I smacked myself on the forehead, stashed the stolen goods in some bushes, and doubled back to the school. I waited for the lunch break, for the students to scatter and old Mr. Duryar to slip off to the latrine, then climbed in through an open window.

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  "Perfect," I grinned, grabbing the pen and ink. Then, after a moment's thought, I swiped the teacher's lunchbox too. No offense to the man, but a growing body needs it more than he does — he'd be home in a few hours anyway. I climbed back out the way I came and trotted off.

  Now I could head to the warehouse.

  I got straight to work, and with proper tools things moved faster. I could finally do things right. I prepped some components for the traps, and during a break I found a metal pipe and filed shavings off its edge into the ink. Stirred it all up nice and thorough, stripped off my clothes, and started drawing lines on my skin.

  First — a spiral on my stomach, right where the first focus would eventually form. Then I drew lines along the paths where the meridians should run: two on each arm, two on each leg, and six across the torso.

  "Looks about right," I muttered, examining my own handiwork.

  My current body was too weak and unprepared. So to speed up my Ascension, I'd decided to artificially lay the groundwork for future internal energy channels.

  Satisfied, I sat down in a meditation pose and began pulling energy from the world around me, combining it with breathing techniques.

  "Too many people underestimate breathing, my boy. Breath is a natural cycle. In and out. Beginning and end. With each inhale you absorb energy, circulate it through your body. With each exhale, you release it back into the world."

  I could almost hear Mirion's voice even now.

  I sat like that for about three hours, pulling energy in and letting it out. This time I was more careful, so there was still plenty left in the environment. When the energy left my body, it dispersed around me, ready to be gathered again later. Last time, out of habit, I'd absorbed it like I was going to hold onto it — but without a vessel, the energy had scattered into particles too small to use. Eventually it would've reformed into "threads," but not anytime soon. I wasn't making that mistake again. This time I released it almost exactly as I'd found it.

  Inhale. Spin it in the stomach. Push it through the budding channels. Exhale.

  And again. And again. And again...

  At some point I had to force myself to stop. I'd gotten way too absorbed. There was a strange peace in this meditation — a sense of unity with nature and the world — and I can say with certainty I'd never felt anything like it on the twelfth ring. Even the Spiral's energy down there was distorted. I understood that clearly now.

  "This is all great, but I'm not done for the day," I told myself, scarfed down the sandwiches I'd liberated from the teacher, and got back to work.

  I came home after dark, caught another earful from the parents, and collapsed into bed. This kind of workload was too much for this body. That was confirmed the next morning when, instead of waking at dawn, I slept several hours past it.

  I grumbled, threw on my clothes, and headed downstairs, where Mom was already waiting.

  "Smells good," I noted.

  "Sit down and eat," she muttered, still annoyed. "Off somewhere again today? Nate..."

  "Mom, just give me a few more days."

  "I'm scared something will happen. The rumors about you are everywhere. I'm afraid that—"

  "Don't be," I cut in. "You don't need to worry about me. There's just something I have to do. Please don't get in the way. Next week, when everyone realizes the rumors were nonsense, I'll go back to normal life. Just trust me for now. Okay?"

  "When did you grow up so fast?" She stared at me. "...Fine. But today you're taking food with you. I don't like that you've barely eaten these past few days."

  "Now that I'll gladly accept," I smiled. She looked like she wanted to add something — some motherly words of caution — but thought better of it and started packing me a lunch bundle. I thanked her, grabbed it, and hurried out.

  On the front steps, I ran into Chloe.

  "You'll pay for what you did!" she hissed like a snake. "In three days you're going to hell, and we'll be having fun while the demons eat you alive!"

  I took a single step toward her. She stumbled backward, landed on her butt, then scrambled up and ran off screaming something unintelligible.

  "Kids," I shook my head.

  Her words about hell and demons didn't sting the way they used to. But she was right about one thing. Three days. That's exactly how long I had to finish my preparations. Thanks to yesterday's exercises, I felt pretty good today. My arms felt stronger, and the exhaustion had vanished.

  "Meditation is all a practitioner needs to recover."

  I didn't agree with my teacher on everything, but maybe that was only because I hadn't reached his level back then. Even in my current state, one session of meditation and breathing techniques had already made me stronger by the next day. Just a tiny bit — but stronger. The energy I absorbed without a focus spread through my body, reinforcing muscles and organs, preparing it for the day when it could actually store energy properly.

  And meanwhile, the day of the fight was getting closer...