Myrkas watched as his preciously converted Qi escaped his lungs and mixed with the surrounding steam. The boy did not have much time left in his mid-day break to figure out how to gather and retain Qi more efficiently. He did hope to garner the start of a solution at least before his gruelling training started again.
Now that he wasn't so focused on preventing a biological disaster or figuring out the waters' make-up, Myrkas relaxed fully into the liquid warmth. The healing water felt heavenly on his bruised and tired flesh. He basked in the moment for a time, enjoying the weightless sensation. It made the morning exercises almost worth it. Almost.
He kept on meditating, with the ambient Qi readily entering his lungs. His dantian converted it faster than ever. Myrkas observed as the varied colours and waves transformed into his own silvery-white brand. A mesmerizing sight. But not enough to make the boy forget his new goal: to keep it all inside!
If only he knew how to cultivate his Qi-plane. It would make sense for it to absorb and store Qi more readily than his physical body. But his gates were still locked and Myrkas was wary of trying to open them on his own. Better to wait for when he was able to manipulate his inner Qi with gracious ease. So he tried again to accelerate the whirlpool between his heart and lungs. It worked a bit, but not much. The suction effect was hard to improve upon. Myrkas needed constant attention to expand his willpower on his core to attain and maintain the next level of rotation. Otherwise, his Qi threatened to spill out of his core. The boy had to keep the pressure, to crush and concentrate his energies. To keep everything centred.
It was beyond exhausting, mentally speaking. A few minutes resulted in Myrkas sweating abundantly. This method might do in the long-term but it was too slow. Myrkas wanted more Qi now. He did not want to wait for his dantian's capacity to slowly grow over time. He needed more power sooner to survive whatever Master Ranil had in store for him. And to keep ahead of Snow. It would not do to lag behind his rabbit. She might become a true spiritual beast before he stepped beyond the Qi Gathering stage!
If his dantian had trouble taking more in, Myrkas would just have to store Qi elsewhere. His other dantians were prime candidates, of course. However, the youth feared messing himself up if he changed too much there. After some internal debate, he had concluded that the red dot in his lower core looked like bad news. He did not want to thoughtlessly spark whatever was hidden there. Its dark red colour looked ominous. Myrkas feared it might even hide a "villain's back story." Better to let it be. To keep it quiet and hidden away. To let devils sleep under their seals.
His upper dantian, situated in his head behind his glabella, came with a different kind of risk. That core was awfully close to his brain and was said to be the most direct path to the soul. Basically, it was super dangerous to mess with it. What if Myrkas injured his brain by overloading his upper dantian with Qi? Or what if he disrupted his cerebral blood flow? Those were too important to risk. The boy did not want any chance of wasting this life by becoming an empty meat bag, a human vegetable.
It was smarter to focus on his body. To get his Qi to reinforce and improve his overall body cultivation. A stronger, tougher physical self was never wasted. It would help him survive and endure everything this life could throw at him. The first step to protect himself and his loved ones. A sure way to never feel powerless ever again.
Reinforcing himself was easier said than done. Myrkas did not exactly hold an easy-to-follow instruction manual, complete with pictograms and readily accessible example videos. In a predictable manner, asking for help for this new endeavour did not cross the boy's mind. He must have been too taken by his self-imposed task. Too enthusiastic at this new glimpse of power to stop and really think about the smartest thing to do. On how to best use the resources at his disposal. Sometimes, eager enthusiasm could act as an inadvertent blindfold.
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Myrkas tried to increase the amount of his Qi circulating through his vascular system. Speeding up the cycle was possible, but like accelerating his whirlpool, it required too much mental effort to be sustainable for a prolonged period. Next, the boy sent a thicker stream of Qi down his blood vessels. As some naturally leaked out through the cycle, Myrkas thought this would improve his absorption overall. His whirlpool would take more from his lungs if a larger amount was diverted out at all times. He should be fine as long as he did not empty his core by mistake...
This method ended up being promising. It did improve his converted-Qi retention rate by a fraction, or so Myrkas thought. The only, minor problem was the strain the added amount of Qi put on his vasculature. His arteries, veins, and capillaries were not made to carry such large amounts. They were not meridians, Myrkas realized. He could not will them to transform instantly. He had tried, of course, but it did not work. It would take a lot longer before he was able to push much more energy down his physical vessels. And a self-induced burst blood vessel sounded like one of the most idiotic things one could do in the pursuit of power and immortality. What a lame epitaph it would be: "Died by a self-inflicted ruptured aneurysm, here rests a deluded fool."
During his experiments, Myrkas had noticed another issue. The "tough-healing Qi," with its dull, darkish yellow colour, was settling into his skin before having the time to mix with Myrkas' own. Some did, but not most. It might not be a problem per se, but the youth did not like it. Once mixed, the bath's Qi became lighter, shinier, and sparkling. A much nicer result in terms of aesthetics, and likely every other aspect too by fantasy logic. Those energies also seem to better mesh with Myrkas' being, as if he was truly appropriating the Qi instead of passively being changed by it. Instead of weight settling in his skin, the improved yellow Qi felt like a new layer of protective flesh, entirely his own. Myrkas did not wish to be weighed down by external Qi, as placid as it was. He had no control over the bath's energies, unlike his silvery Qi.
Unacceptable. The boy could not, would not let himself be suppressed by external Qi, even if it made his skin a touch tougher. He had to integrate it all, make it his own, and bend all available energies to his will. Only through discipline and dedication could he ever reach the highest peak of cultivation and personal power! Myrkas would climb the True Mountain, no shortcut necessary!
The answer was simple in theory: more of his own Qi needed to reach the upper layers of his skin. Myrkas worried something bad would happen if he let the sluggish yellow Qi alone in his dermis for too long. He did not know, and he did not want to find out. Better to aim to convert it all as quickly as possible.
The boy needed more Qi out of his dantian. If adjusting the flow itself was an inconvenient option, then he would make new reservoirs. Qi would spend longer outside his core and these new pools—more like puddles— could head start the "outside Qi" assimilation process, He would start small though. Start in the place where he had the best control in his entire body, where his will was changed into actions the easiest. He chose his favourite finger: his right thumb. Trained with countless hours of gaming in his past life, his right thumb was the prime target for this new experiment.
The young cultivator focused inward. He narrowed his "inner vision" to the wanted digit and took a second to think: where should he put this new reservoir of Qi? The base of his thumb, with its nice amount of muscle? The joint below his nail? Ultimately, Myrkas decided to try for a small pool only at the very tip of his finger. It would hopefully minimize the damage if he ended up blowing his finger. A fingertip should be easy to regrow in a magical universe. Right? Sure, he had seen some missing limbs while wandering in the streets, but a missing finger, a tiny finger piece really was wholly different. And Myrkas was a cultivator. His fate would be different, for sure. No need to worry about maiming himself indefinitely...
Myrkas followed his Qi, the scintillating energy travelling along his arteries, capillaries, and then veins before heading back to his heart. A lot of his silvery energy was already seeping through towards his skin at the tip of his finger. Only logical, considering how highly vascularized that area was. The boy grasped the silvery-white Qi with his metaphysical hands—he did not know how to describe it any better—and attempted to create an offshoot right below his nail bed.
