The Heart Meridian wasn’t any easier to clear. But Blake struck it the same way. At first, he’d been careful not to pierce the walls of the channels, but it turned out that it was much harder to pierce the channels than Blake originally thought.

  You could jab them with a needle of Honour, but the needle itself would bend, not the channel. Instead, he targeted the blockages.

  The problem with the Heart Meridian was that, if you failed to clear the blockages properly, that was what would rip the channels. And if the channels were broken, and you cut off all flow of vital energy through the organ, you were good as dead.

  At least it would be quick, but Blake wasn’t looking to die at all.

  First, he targeted the largest channels. He stabbed through the blockages, piercing them with immense effort and significant spiritual pain. He’d washed off all the mud on his body with how much he was sweating. He was pretty sure he was screaming and yelling, but his ears weren’t hearing it anymore.

  He focused on the loop. There was a loop of channels through his heart, forever circling. It made a figure-eight pattern near the top, and a simple loop near the bottom.

  The heart always beat. It always had the same pattern, except when Blake’s meridian clearing interrupted it. Temporary surges of pain blasted his chest, and he was pretty sure he now knew what it felt like to have a heart attack.

  But it cleared. His Honour cycled through the entire meridian in a closed loop, having pushed free all the blockages. It felt…easy to cycle Honour through the heart. Almost effortless. When he surged Honour through it, it didn’t necessarily speed up, but it did strengthen. He could feel blood pumping stronger, covering more distance. When it passed his newly cleared lungs, it absorbed more oxygen from the air and passed it around his body. Any glimmers of tiredness faded away.

  To most cultivators, that’s not the case, Ethbin said. That is a good sign—the Heart is one of the Knight’s most important meridians, and for you especially.

  Once Blake’s body stopped trembling, and his heart resumed a normal pace, with no tremours, he looked for the same…expulsion of impurities that his lungs had given up. There was nothing of the sort.

  It’s in your blood, Ethbin said. And not figuratively. It is truly in your bloodstream.

  “How…do I get it out?”

  Your blood has many impurities in it, Ethbin said. You’ve simply added to them. When you clear your Blood Meridian, you’ll push them out through your skin. But they won’t cause many problems—unless we let them sit for too long.

  Blake opened his mouth, about to suggest opening another meridian, but Ethbin interjected and said, Not today. Your body needs a break. I know you wish to mend your bones, but if you open the meridian halfway and pass out with exhaustion, you’ll shatter your entire skeleton.

  Blake nodded. He was starting to understand why you didn’t mess with meridians.

  Though the sun was beginning to set, he didn’t yet feel tired. His mind probably was, but his body didn’t agree.

  Chop a tree, Ethbin suggested.

  “Pardon?”

  You heard me. The tree you’re resting in, chop it. You don’t want a fiend smelling the impurities you coughed up and chasing you. Best let it be buried in the swamp. And blow off some steam at the same time.

  “I only have a tiny throwing axe.” Blake narrowed his eyes.

  You also have Heart and Lung Meridians. Include them in your Augmentation technique. It won’t be a full Augmentation, not as strong as a Knight can get, but you’ll see.

  Blake tilted his head, but for now, he’d trust Ethbin. He jumped down from his cradle of branches and pulled the stolen axe out from his belt. Normally, he wouldn’t have expected it to chop down a regular aspen. But this tree was one of the mangrove trees of the merge-mists, and it had spider-like roots thick as an oak’s trunk. He had to chop at least five of them before it would fall down. It seemed impossible.

  But the challenge was equally appealing. Blake rolled his wrist, getting a feel for the axe’s weight. He didn’t like it as a weapon, but as a tool, it would work. He raised it up above his head, and, with the Honour he’d used to clear the meridians, he fuelled his Augmentation technique.

  But instead of cycling it through just the muscles he wanted, he also passed it through his lungs and heart.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Veins of black mist bulged beneath the skin of his arms—the target for the technique. He gripped the axe so tight he was worried the wood handle would splinter, then he slammed it down on the closest root. The axe cleaved in a half foot, taking out a slice and turning the impact zone to sawdust. The root let out a deep crack, and the entire tree shuddered.

  His collarbone screamed in agony. He would’ve stopped if he didn’t know a heal was coming, but tomorrow, none of this would matter. He could tough it out.

  He wound up again, then slammed the axe down once more. This time, it pierced all the way through. The root snapped, and the tree tilted slightly.

  “Woah…” Blake breathed. He looked down at his arms. The black tendrils remained, strengthening his limbs, but the axehead had chipped, and the haft was starting to splinter. But he didn’t need it to last forever.

  One down, four more to go.

  He continued chopping the roots until the tree creaked. Its spiderweb of roots that plunged down into the water all merged into a single large trunk, which couldn’t support its own weight with half its roots gone. It began tilting.

  With the last dregs of his Honour, he slammed the axe into the last root, smashing through. The axe’s haft snapped, and the head shattered. The trunk plummeted toward Blake, and he jumped to the side, just in time to dodge the tidal wave of mud and grimy swamp water.

  “Okay, I understand why you wanted me to open the meridians now,” Blake said. “I get it.”

  If this was how much of an improvement he could get through Honour Condensation…what would the other stages be like? Would it be like the superhero movies he saw on the TV when he was younger? Would he be stronger?

  Remember, Ethbin said, that was also the doing of your Augmentation technique, which other cultivators your stage won’t have. Likewise, your Augmentation techniques will be that much more practiced and effective by the time your peers learn them.

  “Why can’t they use Augmentation?” Blake asked. He walked over to the fallen tree and sat down on the trunk. “They’ve opened the same meridians, haven’t they?”

  Yes, but they’re using mana or qi. There’re a few differences between the two, but that’s inconsequential to you. They don’t have an unlimited well of it. Without reaching certain benchmarks, they simply don’t have enough to power certain techniques—unlike you.

  “But I don’t have unlimited Honour outside of battle.” The Augmentation technique had used up all his Honour, and now the sea around his siphon was empty.

  Not yet. However, yours flows faster and farther, and it can reach points in your body without having to fill the channel completely.

  “I see.” He dug through his backpack and pulled out a ration pouch. “You don’t need to eat anything, do you?”

  I wish. I’d sacrifice entire planets just to smell food again. However…

  “However?”

  Before Ethbin could reply, something nudged his shoulder. Blake jumped to his feet and snatched up his staff, then took a fighting position. Standing on the log beside him was a small deer made of water. It was about the same size as a border collie, and it glowed a faint blue. A single branching antler rose out the center of its head, and at the end of its nose, it had a snout like a dragon. Nevermind that it had a long tail that ended like a fish’s fin, and fins along the backs of its hooved legs.

  It let out a soft bleat, which had a throaty, roar-like undertone.

  “What…?” Blake whispered.

  An eiknir. A rare spirit beast. They’re heralds of a coming golden age, or of a legendary ruler and sage. They’re spawn of the great deer spirits, which drink from the waters of the Galaxy Tree and—

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “Rare? Wait, a glowing blue, dog-sized creature? I think I’ve seen these guys wandering the edge of the Blended District before. They’re not rare at all.” He bent down and looked at it more closely, now that the initial fright was wearing off. “Definitely. I’d never gotten a close-up look at one, though. Why didn’t you warn me?”

  It wasn’t hurting you, and they’re generally harmless. It was coming for a snack, and eiknir are a good omen. But that’s not what you should be worried about—what do you mean they’re not rare?

  “They’re just not. I dunno, I think…if it’s an eiknir, I heard some cultivators talk about farming them at some point. Something about the Steerman breeding them, or needing some at the Grand Lodge.”

  Ethbin cursed something unintelligibly, then said, Is anything sacred anymore? Beardless bastards, those Nords. What has the galaxy come to?

  “Should I…feed it?” Blake rummaged around in his pouch, then pulled out a handful of groats. He was pretty sure even a water-deer wouldn’t eat meat.

  Go ahead. It will decide whether it lingers or not.

  Cautiously, Blake held out his hand. The eiknir stuck out a watery tongue and lapped the groats off Blake’s hand, then swallowed them. They disappeared inside its body.

  It let out a satisfied bleat-roar, then bounded off into the distance, crossing the swamp. It dodged every bush it passed, not trampling a single leaf or stalk of grass. By the time its glow had faded entirely, the sun had set.

  “That was…unusual,” Blake muttered.

  I hate to think what their lives are like in captivity, Ethbin lamented. Poor creatures. She looked hungry, too.

  “She?”

  Certainly. She had an antler.

  “Shouldn’t that make it a guy—oh, you know what, I don’t want to know.” He paused, then raised a finger and said, “So…what’s the difference between a sacred beast and a monster?”

  Sacred beasts? They aren’t as in-control of their Echo as men and the other man-like races. If they lose control, they become a monster. The Echo controls their impulses. If that monstrous Echo gets ahold of demonic energy, then the corrupted sacred beast becomes a fiend.

  “What…does that mean for me?” Blake asked.

  Kid, I have no idea. I’ve never seen a fiend-blend live as long as you. I’m ready to find out, though. Now, get a good sleep, and tomorrow, we’ll see about opening a few more of your meridians.