I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

Richard set down his water bottle and picked up the dumbbells again.

Parker suddenly let out a laugh. "Hey, Williams."

"Hm?"

"How heavy are those dumbbells?"

Richard didn’t answer, walking straight to the corner to select his dumbbells.

"Hey, Fraser, since when did this place start taking in celebrities?"

"He’s here to use the equipment, not to shoot the breeze," Fraser replied, punching a heavy bag.

"But this isn’t the kind of place for students like him, is it?"

Richard finished his set of presses, set the dumbbells back on the floor, and stood up from the edge of the mat.

For a group of guys who were constantly outshone academically, the thrill of being better than a top student in at least one area was palpable.

Richard didn’t care. He was here to use the equipment, not to make friends.

Fraser finished helping a new student with his hand wraps, then glanced in their direction.

Henry’s laughter immediately died down.

"Are you in for the last sparring session or not?" Fraser yelled to Henry.

"I am!" Henry immediately straightened his back.

"Then have you finished your five hundred reps on the heavy bag for today?"

"...Not quite."

"Go finish them."

Henry scrambled up from the mat and walked dejectedly toward the heavy bag.

Parker, taking the hint, also got up and shuffled over to a corner to lift dumbbells.

Fraser walked over and crouched down on the mat across from Richard.

He didn’t offer any words of comfort, just gestured toward the dumbbells with his thumb.

"Maxed out the eight-pounders?"

"Yeah."

"Move up to ten-pounders tomorrow."

Richard paused. "That’s a pretty big jump."

"You recover a lot faster than most people." Fraser’s eyes swept over Richard’s arms.

"You trained to failure yesterday, but you came in today and managed three full sets again. Your recovery time is abnormally short."

"I eat a lot," Richard answered vaguely.

"It’s more than just what you eat." Fraser draped his towel over his shoulder. "Ten pounds. I think you can handle it."

He stood up to leave. "Don’t take what Henry and the others say to heart."

"It’s fine."

"That’s just how they are. They’re like that with all the newcomers."

Fraser rubbed his chin.

"I can’t control their mouths, but I can control their hands."

"As long as they don’t get physical, just let what they say go."

"I understand."

Fraser nodded and walked away.

......

On Wednesday afternoon, Richard switched to the ten-pound dumbbells.

By the eighth rep of the first set, his arms were already shaking.

He set the dumbbells down, rested for a minute, and then initiated his Quadruple Breathing.

In the new cycle of breathing, Healing worked silently within his body.

The nascent micro-tears in his arms were smoothed away, bit by bit.

When he picked up the dumbbells for the second set, the shaking had lessened.

Parker didn’t say a word today.

The boy who transferred from the military academy had arrived.

For the first time, Richard gave him a proper look.

He was slightly taller than Richard, with broad shoulders, though not absurdly so like Fraser’s.

His entire frame was covered in a thin layer of lean muscle. He wore a gray tank top, revealing several faint old scars on his arms.

Unlike the haphazard scars from a brawl, these looked as if he’d been repeatedly struck by something. But whoever did it had been precise, landing each blow in nearly the same spot.

Richard’s gaze lingered on the scars for a second longer.

’Vincent had similar marks on his arms.’

The boy didn’t speak to anyone, simply walking to a corner and starting his warm-up.

His warm-up included details Richard had never seen before: rotations of the scapula, opening and closing the hip joints, pre-warming the ankles.

Each movement was broken down into precise repetitions and angles—a training framework far beyond what the rough-and-tumble kids of the Fighting Club could devise.

’This is the product of systematic training.’

Richard finished his three sets with the dumbbells, then did a set of push-ups.

As he packed his things to leave, he passed the military academy student at the door.

The boy nodded, and Richard nodded back.

While he trained at the Fighting Club, his Moon Nail practice was also progressing.

Nemesis had made a special note in the pamphlet that beginners should use old Silver Needles, ones that had seen years of use.

The metallic structure of new needles retained stress distortions from the forging process. When Ether was channeled through the body of the needle, it could easily "knot" at certain points.

A knot would cause the Ether to flow backward, and this backflow would shatter the needle.

Richard went to the Clement Antiques Store. After he explained the situation to the old man, the proprietor dug out a bundle of twelve old Silver Needles from under the counter.

It was stock left behind by a tailor before he passed away. The purity was high, and the bodies of the needles had been worn by time, making the internal stress of the metal far more uniform than in new needles.

The tip of each needle was worn to a roundness almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

Of course, they couldn’t be pure silver—items made of pure silver are generally too soft. He tested one of the Silver Needles; the silver content was sufficient to conduct Ether.

Because they were old, they were two pence cheaper than new needles.

Back home, preparing to perform his first Casting, Richard began by following the steps in the Moon Nail pamphlet.

The first step: Holding the Nail.

He grasped the end of the needle between his thumb and forefinger, its tip pointing outward.

The pamphlet explained that the beginner’s grip was the "Three-Finger Grip."

The thumb, index, and middle fingers held the needle, using the muscles of the palm to help absorb the tremors that occurred when channeling Ether with the Breathing Technique.

Only with proficiency would one transition to the "Two-Finger Grip," and later still, the "One-Finger Hold."

The highest level required no grip at all; one could launch the needle relying on Ether alone.

For now, Richard used the most stable method: the Three-Finger Grip.

The second step: Breath Introduction.

He closed his eyes, initiated his Quadruple Breathing, and used his own heartbeat as a timer.

Upon reaching the exhalation phase of the third complete cycle, the micro-circulation of the Throne of the Sun began to channel Ether toward his right arm.

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