The days that followed were a blur of intense concentration and unrelenting practice.
Lassim spent every waking moment refining his technique, determined to reduce the number of attempts needed to successfully activate the explosive attack.
He quickly realized that, thankfully, he didn’t need to release the skill and cause an explosion every time.
Instead, he could practice by dispersing the mana before it reached critical mass. This way, he could reset and try again without the destructive consequences.
Dispersing the built-up mana also proved beneficial in another way. It allowed Lassim to practice his control over the water mana particles’ dense structure, maintaining their stability under pressure. Each failure became a lesson, each successful formation a step closer to mastery.
Gradually, he brought the number of successful activations down to one in every three hundred attempts.
As he practiced, Lassim began speaking with Mari and Zaphy to brainstorm names for his newly created technique.
"[Thunderwave?]" Zaphy proposed eagerly, her voice chirping with energy from his inner heart world.
Lassim shook his head, considering. "[It doesn’t quite capture the essence of the technique. It’s more than just a wave of energy.]"
"[Shock Torrent?]" Mari offered, her tone thoughtful. "[It combines the elements of
lightning and water.]"
Lassim pondered the suggestion. "[Closer, but still not quite there.]"
They continued to toss around ideas, each one building off the last. "[Storm Surge?]"
"[Aqua Thunder?]" "[Plasma Flood?]" Each name was considered and discarded until Mari spoke again.
"[What about Hydroburst?]" she suggested. "[It reflects the explosive nature of the technique and the combination of water and lightning plasma.]"
Lassim’s eyes lit up. "[Hydroburst... I like it. It captures the power and the essence perfectly!]"
With the name decided, Lassim felt a sense of accomplishment. The technique now had an identity.
However, the days since creating the technique had been long, and the constant focus and concentration had taken their toll.
His head felt heavy, and he decided to take a break and relax for the rest of the afternoon. He would pick up his practice later in the week after finishing his weekly quota.
The next day would mark the start of his third week in a row as a servant disciple hunting for Thunder Source Stones.
Lassim was determined to meet his quota efficiently early again so he could return to refining [Hydroburst].
As he made his way back from the arena and old target dummy to the servant’s quarters, he passed by an alleyway where a commotion caught his attention.
The sounds of lightning-charged punches and muffled grunts echoed through the narrow passage.
Lassim turned his head and saw a sight that filled him with anger.
His fellow servant and friend, Jiro, was being assaulted, taking brutal hits to the stomach from three sect disciples clad in purple martial robes with shimmering bronze accents. They covered his mouth to prevent his grunts and screams from leaking out and drawing attention.
Fury surged through Lassim as he confronted the trio. "Hey! What do you think you’re doing?" he demanded, stepping into the alley.
The disciples turned, their expressions shifting from surprise to disdain. "Who do you think you are?" the leader sneered. "This is none of your business."
Lassim’s eyes blazed. "Of course it’s my business! Jiro is my friend and fellow disciple. You shouldn’t be so underhanded doing this to one of your own! We’re all a part of the Lightning Sect, even at servant rank!"
Jiro, struggling to catch his breath, managed to break free from one disciple’s hand covering his mouth to speak. "Lassim, stay out of this. They’re Outer Sect disciples. They outrank us in the sect hierarchy and can cause our servant punishment to be longer if they tell an elder."
The leader of the trio of bullies smirked. "That’s right. We’re Outer Sect disciples. We’re even above the pathetic sect guard patrols in privilege. Servants like you should know your place."
Lassim’s anger intensified. "So, you think that gives you the right to bully others? Jiro has done nothing to deserve this."
"Nothing?" another disciple scoffed. "He’s a failure. He joined at the same time as my little brother and look at him! He keeps flunking his sect missions, came dead last in the last trial that my little brother was leading. Wastrels like him deserve to be kicked out of the sect for wasting resources."
Lassim’s rage reached a boiling point.
Jiro had been incredibly kind and friendly to him since his arrival. He gave good advice, looked out for the others, and regularly brought food to Mirana and cooked for the other servants. He wanted to better himself to leave behind the legacy of low cultivation farmers that his parents upheld.
Lassim believed that he was not a wastrel but someone who perhaps wasn’t suited for the harshness of the Lightning Sect’s system. He might even have a lower talent, but that didn’t make him any lesser than the other disciples. It just meant he’d take a little longer to advance.
"Jiro is worth ten of you," Lassim snarled. "If you think you’re so superior, why don’t you prove it in a fair fight instead of just cornering someone in an alleyway?"
The leader of the bullies laughed, a harsh sound that grated on Lassim’s nerves. "You think you can take us on? Hahaha! You’re just a peak Spirit Transformation stage servant! Do you not see we’re Spirit TRAN-CEN-DENTS?! That’s two stages ahead of you.
You’re weak!"
Lassim’s anger finally erupted. It caused the storm overhead to condense, a tense pressure filling the air.
He then released his divine pressure to its maximum, the first time he had done so in weeks.
He then took slow, measured steps, almost stomping, towards the bullies. Each step he took was accompanied by a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that echoed across the sect.
"If you have the courage to face this ’lowly Spirit Transformation stage servant disciple,’ then let’s have a ’friendly spar,’ where you can kindly enlighten me on the differences between the stages, dear Senior." Lassim said, his voice calm but filled with underlying menace.
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The pressure had mounted insanely upon the trio as he stepped closer. They felt an incredibly weight near down on them and intimidate them enough to let go of Jiro and get into a defensive formation as if Lassim was about to attack.
The leader of the bullies was visibly shaking at this point with fists gripped tightly, but his pride refused to let him back down. "Fine. I’ll take you on. But if I win, I get whatever artifact you’re using to release that pressure."
Lassim laughed, the storm above echoing his mirth with a thunderous boom. The lightning and thunder then echoed his words as an amplifier as he spoke, "And if I win, you’ll do whatever I request for a whole week."
The bully leader just nodded in reply, thinking he’d earn himself an easy artifact that was incredibly powerful.
With the agreement made, the trio lead the way off to one of the sect’s dueling arenas, a place designed to settle disputes among disciples.
As they walked, Lassim’s mind was a whirl of thoughts that was mimicked by the intensity of the overhead storm. The perpetual storm started releasing a torrential rainfall that oddly evaded Lassim. Not a single raindrop fell on his clothes, but soaked all others around him.
He knew he had to control his anger and use his abilities and training to his advantage.
Using the full force of the divine mana would be overkill, but he could increase the amount to fight against these Spirit Transcendents. He’d need to actually go in with the mindset to try and injure or kill them if he wishes to win.
These were outer sect ranked disciples that had spent years training within the sect learning battle arts and strategies. They must have endless experience sparring against other human spirit warriors, where Lassim was sorely lacking in that regard.
[Hydroburst] was still too unstable and difficult to activate to rely on, but he had his other tried and true techniques at his disposal that would be more than enough to fight against the bully. If he was able to get it activated within an attempt or two, he might try [Hydroburst], but hopefully it wouldn’t be needed.
Arriving at the dueling arena, Lassim noted it was a large, circular platform surrounded by stone stands.
The atmosphere was charged with tension as the news of the impending duel spread quickly to the less busy disciples of the sect, drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers.
It was also impossible for them to miss the changes in the storm and the eerie way that the thunder had mimicked some young man’s voice earlier with the contents of a stake.
Lassim and the leader of the bullies faced each other before stepping onto the stage.
The leader’s sneer was gone, replaced by a look of determination. Lassim could sense the nervousness underlying his bravado.
"Ready to be humbled, servant?" He taunted, trying to regain some semblance of control. "And when you lose, remember you’re going to give me, Kaito, that artifact of yours."