Volithur’s breath hissed as he took the strike to his gut. He had been hanging with Little Nero for most of the match, but taking a hit cost him his momentum and put him on pure defense, which he could not afford when facing this particur opponent. Little Nero had not gone easy on him since the day Volithur fought him under the influence of the blood boiling elixir.

  The two new guys had almost entirely closed the gap with him in combat capability, which meant that Volithur had not had a solid win the entire day. And now Little Nero was going to pick him apart and make him look like a fool.

  Something snapped in Volithur.

  As Little Nero’s fist came in hot, Volithur hardened his aura and anchored it to his flesh in an instinctive action, pushing a stream of cosmic energy into it.

  The fist plinked when it struck home on his temple, a tinny sound like two pieces of metal colliding. Volithur saw the surprise on Little Nero’s face, then drove his knee into the man’s gut.

  Little Nero hunched over to soften the body blow. Volithur dropped his level and unched an uppercut that hit solid, sending Little Nero stumbling back to fall on his tailbone.

  “Look at that,” Instructor Gordo crowed, “Ward Harridan has some fight in him today.”

  Volithur found himself paired with Marius next, who was one of the more technically proficient people present in the beginner group. The man should have been moved up to intermediate years ago, but he cked the cultivation level to handle it. In addition to his skill, Marius also had a brutally efficient style. He remained in control, but didn’t exactly pull his punches.

  Since his aura was already erected and charged, Volithur held it steady as he faced off against his new opponent. Marius came in steady, threw a clean three-punch combo, and hastily retreated with bruised knuckles. Volithur pursued, throwing wild haymakers and ignoring the returned strikes since they only hurt his opponent. Finally, he nded a solid blow and Marius dropped like a rock.

  Instructor Gordo cpped him on the back. “You’ve been sandbagging, Ward Harridan. The Sergeant said you weren’t interested in spending cosmic energy in training.”

  Volithur drew back in the energy he’d invested into his aura. He estimated that he’d recovered about eighty percent of what he pushed into it. At a rough guess, he’d just lost about one day’s worth of cultivation effort.

  It had been worth it. Volithur met the gazes of the soldiers in his group, saw them reassessing his worth. They knew he could take hits and unleash punishment now. Even if he wasn’t willing to waste the energy to do it every sparring session, they would have to take into account that if they raised the heat too much he might decide to retaliate.

  In short, they had to respect him now.

  Instructor Gordo ended css and Volithur went to find a spot to cultivate where Ava wouldn’t be able to find him. He sat behind the barracks and began to cycle his aura. The exercise, so routine by this point, took serious effort. His aura moved with a leaden lethargy, like an overworked muscle. Volithur noticed that not only was it moving slowly, but it seemed to be less efficient at collecting cosmic energy than usual.

  “Well, shit,” he muttered. “I guess I have to rest my aura today.”

  Volithur considered spending the day in mental cultivation, but ultimately didn’t want to spend the rest of his morning using the inferior method. He huffed in annoyance. He’d lost two days of cultivation progress due to his defensive use of aura. One day from the energy loss and another day because he was too sore to cultivate.

  He really would have to be judicious in his use of aura going forward. Or maybe he should seriously consider body enhancement. The investment in his body would yield permanent results. He would be stronger, more durable, and heal faster.

  It all came down to figuring out what he wanted more. Did he want his access to the elixirs restored? Or did he want the respect of the soldiers? Volithur clenched his fists in anger. He wanted both of those things and didn’t feel like he should have to compromise.

  Whether or not he liked the need, he did in fact have to choose one or the other. As foolish as it might be to concentrate on becoming a stronger fighter when he wanted nothing to do with soldiering, Volithur couldn’t stand being the worst one in every area of his life any longer. He wanted recognition for something.

  “I’m doing it,” he whispered. Then, without further introspection, Volithur began the effort of hardening his body. When he had been provided with elixir before, he had pushed cosmic energy into his skull. So it would make sense to resume that effort all these months ter.

  Volithur squeezed energy through his body aperture and forced it into the hard contours of his skull. Then he drew the energy back, feeling that some had gone missing. He cycled energy back into his skull and withdrew it. Again, and again, and again. He fell into the rhythm of cultivation, this time depleting the reserves in his soul instead of building them.

  It felt somewhat uncomfortable to be reversing the normal order of things, but Volithur kept up his efforts. He was so tired of being weak and receiving disrespect. Feeling the momentary stirrings of pride had awoken an appetite for more in him.

  From that day onward, Volithur spent his morning between sparring and lunch doing bodily cultivation. He continued with aural cultivation between lunch and dinner, then after trading lessons with Khana he would perform his mental cultivation.

  Sparring had become different for him overnight. His opponents hesitated enough when facing him that he could work his offense more. Knowing he could raise his aura if he truly needed to, Volithur moved with a confidence that allowed him to commit to attacks like he hadn’t before. The end result: he won as often as he lost. Each opponent offered unique challenges, but none of them were able to dominate him any longer.

  Thassily made it a point to compare their respective transformations. He said that Volithur was becoming a vicious fighter while he was becoming a soft lover. The brewer’s daughter stopped by to visit during dinner one day, and Volithur was startled to see the creature that had so captivated his friend. She was as tall as Thassily and curved over every contour. Her eyes held a dull warmth and she seemed to get bored following conversations.

  But when she looked at his friend… Volithur began to suspect that at some point The Adventures of Thassily had switched from exaggeration to downpying events.

  When he saw Khana at their lesson, he described the situation. “And I think you were right about them needing to worry about pregnancy.”

  “Maybe they shouldn’t worry about it,” Khana said. “He’s a ward, so if she gets pregnant the household has the option of paying out the rest of his contract due to extenuating circumstances. He could marry and be done with the training if he doesn’t want to do it.”

  “Wait. That’s an option?” Wheels began to spin in Volithur’s head.

  “Well, not for you. The household needs to keep you around until they are confident the Lord General won’t send for you.”

  It looks like I might have screwed myself over with that lie, Volithur thought.

  “So I can’t just sleep myself out of this lifestyle,” he said.

  Khana shook her head. “Of course not. I don’t even see why you would want to. If the Lord General brings you into his retinue, your future will be secure.”

  “His st footman died,” Volithur pointed out.

  “Well, that happens in wars.”

  Volithur ughed. “I see. So it would have been a tragedy if the guy didn’t get access to resources, but dying is just bad luck.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Ward Harridan. I’m not being cavalier about death. I’m just saying that if the options are being a nobody or dying after many years as a somebody, then perhaps the better life may be the shorter one.”

  “So we’re back to ‘Ward Harridan’, are we?”

  Khana rolled her eyes. “Fine, Harridan.” His grin faded. Khana noticed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Out with it. I’m hardly in a position to judge whatever your issue is.”

  “That’s not my name.”

  “What’s not your name?”

  “I’m not Harridan. My name is Volithur.”

  Khana mouthed the name a few times. “Volithur. Volithur. It sounds so exotic. Is it a common name on the world you are from?”

  “Not hardly,” he ughed. “It was the name of my great-grandfather. He was captain of an exploration ship. He discovered three isnds no human had ever set foot on and established a trade route to a distant continent. He died fighting off a pirate attack. Whenever I would compin about other kids making fun of my old-time name, my dad would say my great-grandfather was a great man and I should be honored to carry his name.”

  Khana looked at him seriously. “You might reach even greater heights than your namesake, Volithur.”

  “Or I might die in war like my new namesake, Footman Harridan.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather have a good short life than a bad long life?”

  Volithur sat down on one of the desks in the cssroom. “Forget long or short for a minute. What makes you think I can have a good life at all?”

  Khana flinched back. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I will never be in control of my own fate. I live at the whim of my superiors.”

  “Why would you obsess over something like that? You still have a path to status and security.”

  “What good do those things do me when I’m not free?”

  “The higher your status, the more power you have. You’ll never have complete freedom unless you become a lord, but your future can be so much better than your present, Volithur. You can receive bountiful resources, live on Tian itself, receive a pension if you reach old age, marry well….”

  “I can marry well? To a distiller’s daughter? Or a cook’s assistant?”

  “Your status will be higher than mine in a few years, so –” Khana ended the sentence so abruptly it was like she had cut it with a knife. “Enough talk of marriage, Ward Harridan. I need to work on division some more.”

  Khana went back to addressing him by his false name after that, and she pointedly avoided eye contact for several days. For his part, Volithur did his best to ignore what she had almost said. The st thing he needed was to confuse his head with silly ideas.

  It was better if he focused on things that were under his control. One of which was his body enhancement. As the weeks passed, his skull rapidly grew stronger. Not just more durable, but fundamentally more substantial. To Volithur’s senses, it seemed like the bone had become more real than it used to be.

  Indeed, if it had just gotten harder, then that would have been a problem for someone like him who sparred daily. He did not need his brain bouncing around inside a steel case. Fortunately, the enhancement to his skull behaved more subtly than that. It almost felt estic where it contacted his gray matter, as if it had a slight amount of give. But he doubted his skull could be damaged with anything less than a properly wielded sledgehammer.

  A lot of the groundwork had been id by the blood boiling elixir he had been gifted earlier, so his more recent efforts had been eased on their way. And he had been able to enhance his body for two hours a day, which was more than the one hour suggested by the Sergeant.

  Volithur found himself almost optimistic about his future. Maybe he might even marry well….