The air of the meditation chamber carried the stench of blood. It clung to his skin, soaked into his torn clothes, mixed with the metallic taste on his tongue. Raime sat cross-legged on the cold ground, body trembling from exhaustion. The wound along his back pulsed like a second heartbeat — sharp, rhythmic, unrelenting.

  He exhaled slowly, forcing his breath to lengthen, steady. Calm down, it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt… fuck it hurt like a bitch!

  The instinct to shut the pain off rose anyway, like a whisper at the back of his mind. He could of course. A trick Neimar had taught him: closing off specific sensory pathways through targeted psychic suppression, numbing whole sections of the nervous system until nothing remained but silence. But before he could even try, a firm voice cut through the haze of pain.

  “Don’t.” Neimar’s tone left no room for argument.

  Raime’s jaw clenched. He kept his eyes closed, trying to focus on the rhythm of his breathing. “You said it yourself — the pain makes you do stupid thing.”

  “In battle, it makes you wince, it distract you,” The Sovereign said while circling Raime like a predator smelling weakness. “now though, we can use it to sharpen your will, and focus.”

  A faint pulse of energy stirred near him — Neimar’s presence, calm and controlled. His own aura was so finely contained Raime couldn’t feel a whiff of it, it looked like his teacher was invisible to his senses if he didn’t want to be seen.

  “Pain is your body’s way of showing you where to look,” Neimar continued. “You can’t fix what you can’t understand is broken. Let it guide you — trace it inward, piece by piece.”

  Raime gritted his teeth and tried to do as told. He let the pain spread, no longer trying to suppress it. It wasn’t easy; his instincts screamed at him to block it out, to retreat from the burning ache beneath his ribs. But as he surrendered to it, he began to feel more — not less.

  He saw the wound in his mind’s eye: torn tissue, clotted blood, torn muscles broken bones and ruptured organs. The image wasn’t literal; it was an abstract perception built from sensation and awareness, yet it felt real enough to touch.

  “Good,” Neimar said quietly. “Now — guide your energy. You can’t heal yourself magically, you don’t have that kind of affinity. Control your body. Direct the blood where it should flow, not where it spills.”

  Raime took a slow breath, drawing in what remained of his psionic energy. It felt thin, frayed, but it obeyed. He directed it toward the tissues — not to mend them directly, but to nudge his body in the correct direction. The flow of blood stilled slightly; the throbbing dulled. His mind’s grasp extended deeper, reaching the hidden functions of his body.

  He began working through Neimar’s instructions, step by step.

  First, he focused on the internal bleeding — guiding stray blood back into circulation, coaxing ruptured vessels to constrict.

  Then, he turned to the torn muscles, using microbursts of telekinesis to pull them closer, almost like invisible stitches. The sensation was unbearable; it felt like being flayed from the inside, but he held on.

  “Keep the flow steady,” Neimar murmured. “The body knows what to do. But you know better, prioritize.”

  Raime’s breathing deepened, sweat dripping down his temple. The pain grew sharper, but now it had shape — edges, boundaries, rules he could follow. He moved inward again, reaching toward his marrow. He sent a mental command, urging it awake.

  Something responded.

  A faint heat spread through his bones, subtle but unmistakable. It wasn’t mystical — not divine — but purely biological. Controlled. Precise. He could feel his blood production intensify, sluggish red cells multiplying faster under his mental nudge.

  When he reached the endocrine system, though, he faltered. The hypothalamus, pituitary, adrenal glands — Neimar taught him how to stimulate them, and how to direct the hormones they produced.

  “You’ve read my memories,” Raime said through clenched teeth.

  A faint chuckle. “I have your medical knowledge, yes. Despite our differences, the principles stay the same — whether you’re human or ithurian, flesh follows similar laws.”

  Raime almost smiled despite the pain. Of course he know. “Then if you saw my memories what do you think of professor Cortese?”

  Neimar’s amusement rippled faintly through the air.

  “You are referring to the one with the god complex, I will say that despite your personal feelings about the man, I’m amazed your species let him teach instead of using him as a test subject.”

  Then, after a pause that almost sounded like a smirk:

  “Though I suppose every world needs its own lesser deity of misplaced confidence.”

  “My score was nearly perfect and he failed me anyway.” Raime replied with gritted teeth, part from the memory and the other from the pain.

  “Yes, You will face many injustices going forward,” Neimar voice went from mirthful to reminishing. Then he turned toward him and his regal composure returned. “power is the only thing that will save you, now focus.”

  Raime obeyed, guiding another thin current of energy through his torso. He found the rhythm again — inhale, exhale, move. The throbbing of his wound synced with the beat of his heart. His focus went deeper, tracing connections between organs he had never truly felt before.

  Liver, lymphatic nodes, spleen — all under quiet command. He willed them into harmony, speeding detoxification, enhancing the production of essential proteins, purging fragments of damaged cells. The process was painstakingly slow, but progress came.

  Minute after minute passed, and with each breath, the pain changed — from sharp agony to deep ache, from ache to pulse, from pulse to presence. It no longer overwhelmed him; it grounded him.

  He didn’t open his eyes when Neimar spoke again.

  “Now you understand. This method of healing doesn’t happen magically. It’s proper control of the body through psichic energy.”

  Raime’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “And suffering’s the price for mastery?”

  “Suffering will imprint the lesson deeper, and you’ll be able to perform better despite the pain next time.”

  Silence followed — heavy, but not uncomfortable. Raime sat motionless, eyes closed, breath steady, while within him a hundred small systems aligned under his will and the Sovereign guidance.

  Little by little all the injuries healed, part of it was due to the high attributes he possessed, but the tweaking he performed accelerated drastically his recovery.

  “I feel fine now,” Raime looked up at Neimar. “not totally healed, but a night of rest should bring me there, still my Threads are in need of attention, and my soul… why does it feel like my soul is in optimal conditions?”

  “I helped you recover your depleted aura.” Neimar regarded him for a moment, expression unreadable.

  “You burned through your entire aura during the fight,” he said evenly. “What you were feeling was its absence. You’ve stripped away the shroud that cushions the soul — what’s left is its raw surface, directly exposed to the world around it.”

  Raime frowned, trying to recall the sensation. His breathing was steady now, but there was a strange clarity beneath the fatigue, a constant awareness pressing against his thoughts.

  “It felt… too close,” he murmured. “Like my soul’s brushing against everything.”

  “Precisely,” Neimar replied. “Normally, your aura mediates your connection to the world, dampens the feedback. Depleting it it’s dangerous, but also instructive. Remember the feeling — it will teach you the nature of your own essence better than any lecture could.”

  Raime nodded slowly, eyes still closed. “So that’s what that sensation was… my soul being scraped raw.”

  “An apt, if crude, description,” Neimar said. “You compressed your aura more in that final attack than you ever did before. Meditation will restore part of it, and I’ve accelerated the process, the rest will come back naturally in time. The sooner you replenish your essence, the sooner you can resume proper training.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  A quiet hum filled the chamber. Neimar’s aura brushed against his—vast, disciplined, and impossibly steady. Compared to it, Raime’s own soul felt like a flickering ember beside a star.

  The Sovereign continued, tone sharpening. “Don’t mistake recovery for growth. You fought well, but you faced a newly ascended Tier III beast. It had no higher faculties, it wasn’t magically apt in any way, and didn’t belong to any particulariy powerful bloodline. If it had been an intelligent foe of equal rank, you would have been crushed before you realized you were in danger.”

  Raime opened one eye, half amused. “That’s encouraging.”

  “It’s honest,” Neimar replied without missing a beat. “Strength without perspective is arrogance, and arrogance is the death of every prodigy I’ve ever trained. Remember—Tier is not a number, it’s an evolution. The difference between Tiers is going to become insurmountable at higher stages.”

  Raime let the words sink in. He wasn’t offended. If anything, they resonated. He knew the fight had been close, knew how easily one mistake could’ve left him torn in half.

  “I’ll remember,” he said quietly.

  “Good,” Neimar said, crossing his arms behind his back. “Because the next time you misjudge an enemy, you might not have the luxury of learning from it.”

  He let the silence hang for a moment before shifting topics. “Now, we have a need to address the System.”

  Raime straightened slightly.

  “You still haven’t claimed your last reward,” Neimar said. “We delayed it for a reason — the thresholds. But after today, I believe the reward for defeating the harlven will further increase your potential, and that open possibilities.”

  Raime nodded. “You think this one will be stronger?”

  “It should be,” Neimar replied. “When you defeated that Tier II as an unawakened, the System recognized your strenght and expanded your potential — made you capable of surviving future evolution. This next one will build upon that same foundation.”

  “So my potential will increase again, but except for the increase in my maximum attributes, what does exactly mean?”

  Neimar gave a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “To have your potential expanded means to be able to climb higher, sometimes despite the greatest of efforts, rising in Tiers is just not feasible when your body stop advancing. It is possibly the highest form of advancement that you could ever receive. Rituals, artifacts, natural treasures and many other methods exists for enhancing one potential, but they all are incredibly hard to come by, and pale compared to the System in efficacy and lack of side effects.

  “So I can do it in other ways too… would something like the Core of Symbiosis increase one potential?”

  “Yes, it will,” Neimar turned to look at him straight in the eyes. “but at the cost of having an external being entering a symbiotic fusion with your mind, you will have to be in control at all times, or risk being overtaken.”

  “Ah, I understand now. If most of the methods are like this then the System way is probably for the best. How does it do that anyway?”

  Neimar paused for just a moment. “I don’t know.” He simply said. “There are many theories, but if some understand the inner working of the System, it is probably someone at the administrator level. In the end I am just too weak to be privy to that kind of information. Raime heard a clear note of bitterness in the old Sovereign’s voice.

  “Leaving aside the inner working of the System, we need to address the next phase of your tutorial. The System’s attention has been stagnant ever since you crossed the Sea of Grass. It’s waiting — locked, almost — because the primary and secondary objective’s rewards haven’t been claimed. Accepting the reward should provide its next directive.”

  “So, I basically managed to glitch the System?” Raime asked, half incredulous.

  “Not quite,” Neimar corrected. “Merely… uncertain. You’ve broken too many conventions for it to predict your path. It’s adapting. I am curious to see how it will do so.”

  Raime leaned back slightly, rubbing his temple. “You make it sound like I’m part of some grand experiment.”

  The Sovereign’s gaze softened, though his voice remained firm. “You are. But that doesn’t mean you’re expendable. The System’s rules are vast — and it rarely had to accommodate someone like you before. When it updates your quest, it will reshape the conditions of your existence within its framework. That’s both an opportunity… and a risk.”

  Raime exhaled slowly. “So, I take the reward, hope I don’t explode, and we see what happens next?”

  “You won’t explode, but hat would be the pragmatic summary, yes.”

  Raime smirked faintly despite the tension. “You really know how to sell it.”

  “I’m not a salesman, Raime,” Neimar replied dryly. “I’m a Sovereign of the Ithurian race, and I prefer to deal with truths — not the comfort of your emotions.”

  “I won’t have it any other way.” Raime ssid while chuckling under his breath, then looked down at his trembling hands. The pain was fading now, replaced by an undercurrent of warmth as the healing process continued. .

  His thoughts steadied. Whatever came next, he was ready. The beast had tested his body, and the pain had tempered his mind. Now it was time to see what the System would forge from the result.

  He looked up at Neimar. “Let’s do it.”

  The Sovereign inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of approval flickering across his face. “Then begin. Accept the reward of your last hunt first, then let us see what the System truly intends for its anomaly next.”

  Achievement Unlocked: Defiance of Tiers (II)

  You have slain a Tier 3 creature while unranked (Tier 0).

  Against the crushing weight of disparity, you stood again before the impossible—and prevailed.

  The laws of balance bent, the measure of strength rewritten. You have exceeded the limits of mortal calibration; your existence now strains against the System’s predictive framework.

  Your defiance is recorded.

  Your divergence deepens.

  Rewards Granted:

  Vessel Refinement – Adaptive Resonance:

  The biological and astral vessel has surpassed the boundaries of Tier I physiology. Foundational structure recalibrated to sustain long-term evolution. Soul and matter now resonate,

  Your vessel will now automatically refine itself in response to future Threshold Breaches. All future advancements will adapt more efficiently to your evolving nature. Soul synchronization improved by +38%.

  Attribute ceilings extended beyond standard Tier I limitation.

  Classification: Soulbound Construct – Proto-Conceptual Core Fragment

  Status: Dormant

  A mote of radiant essence, a single point of pure illumination, as if the very concept of light itself had been distilled into a tangible spark, waiting to merge with a greater whole and awaken powers yet unrealized.

  Description:

  Forged from the crucible of your defiance, this seed embeds itself in the deepest layer of your soul, intertwining with your latent potential. It subtly adjusts the flow of your internal energies, unseen but ever-present, like a hidden compass pointing toward the light.

  When your core awakens, the Radiant Seed will fuse with it, amplifying its structure and enhancing its capacity for radiant energy. It will refine your Light affinity, grant direct manipulation of light forces, and heighten your instinctive understanding of light-related phenomena. More than power alone, it will shape how your core perceives and interacts with the very principles of light, guiding your future formation toward harmony and conceptual clarity.

  Effects (Dormant):

  l Significantly enhances affinity and progression rate for any Light related aspect.

  l Awakens with core formation, enabling direct manipulation of radiant energy.

  l Refines conceptual resonance, easing comprehension of light-aligned phenomena and laws.

  l Stabilizes internal energy flow, harmonizing the astral and corporeal bodies.

  l Serves as a catalyst for higher-order conceptual formation within the core.

  Note: This feat is beyond the design of standard Tutorial parameters. Rewards have been adapted to your anomalous path.

  Raime’s eyes widened slightly as the System’s words finished flashing before him. His body felt… different. Subtle at first, like a vibration running through every nerve, every fiber, every cell. Then sharper, a deep, resonant hum beneath the skin, as though the marrow of his bones and the very flow of his blood had been reorganized while he wasn’t looking.

  Vessel Refinement… Soul synchronization improved… Adaptive Resonance…

  He flexed his fingers experimentally, marvelling at the responsiveness of muscles that had already been strained beyond their limits, at the ease of motion in joints that had groaned under the Tier III’s assault. I can feel it—everything is… tighter, more precise. Efficient. Somehow stronger without feeling heavier…

  And then there was the other presence—the seed.

  A point of illumination, buried deep in the recesses of his soul, subtle yet undeniable. It was not alive in any conventional sense, but it hummed against him, brushing the edge of his consciousness like the first glimmer of dawn. It’s… there. I can feel it, fused somewhere inside me, like it’s… waiting.

  Raime’s chest tightened with a mix of awe and something like reverence. It’s guiding me, already. It feels like it knows the path I’m meant to take.

  A slow, measured exhale escaped him, and despite the exhaustion, a spark of anticipation flared within. This… this changes everything. My body, my mind, my soul… they’re more aligned now. I can feel the seed nudging at my potential, and when the time comes… when the core forms… I’ll be ready.

  Raime’s lips twitched into a faint, determined grin. “This is perfect,” he murmured softly, addressing a patiently waiting Neimar beside him. “Take a look.”

  He transferred the memory of the notifications in full, he knew that if he wanted, the Sovereign could read his mind, but he promised to avoid doing so and Raime wanted to reciprocate without hiding anything.

  Neimar remained silent for a time, the air around him rippling faintly as the memories Raime shared unfurled in his mind. His usually serene expression tightened—only slightly, but enough for Raime to notice. The pale light of the Rift reflected off the Sovereign’s features, casting faint halos that danced like living specters around his form.

  “…A Radiant Seed,” Neimar murmured at last, voice low, thoughtful. His gaze lingered on Raime as if he were trying to see through him. “I have to admit disciple, that your mentor find himself again without the necessary knowledge to impart. But one thing is clear, this is not a simple reward, Raime. It’s a proof.”

  Raime frowned. “A proof?”

  Neimar inclined his head slowly. “The System doesn’t hand out gifts.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You are being groomed for something… higher. Something that either the System itself foresees—or fears.”

  The words hung between them—quiet, heavy, and true.

  Raime’s heart thudded once, a steady pulse echoing through his newly refined body. “Then what do I do with it?”

  Neimar’s lips curved into something unreadable. “Use it. Grow. When your core forms, that seed will wake. I suspect you will need it.”

  He turned then, the faint light of the Rift casting his silhouette in molten silver. “We are not done.”

  Neimar’s gaze flicked toward him again. “Claim your due, and let us peek at the path forward.”