Date: May 29, 541 years since the Fall of Zanra the Dishonored.
The third day of training under Divilla brought a new understanding of the hierarchy of power. Dur's body, spurred by yesterday's "Bitter Gift," worked at its limit. The development of Energy within him was proceeding at a frightening pace—he felt his channels, expanded by the tincture, greedily absorbing every crumb of power from the boar meat he had eaten. His presence became more tangible; he seemed to occupy slightly more space in the room than an ordinary person, although outwardly he remained the same.
Divilla was waiting for them on the circular training ground. Around her, in absolute silence, hundreds of small objects floated: from river pebbles to thin steel needles.
"Energy development is the foundation for any being in this world," Divilla began, without turning. "Whether you're a peasant, a warrior of the Order, or an Agrim heir, you must perfect your Energy. Quantity, quality, density—these are the three pillars on which life stands. Maël develops Energy to fuel his Spirit. You, Dur, as yet have no Spirit, and Energy Development is your only way not to die in the first skirmish."
She made a slight movement with her fingers, and one of the stones instantly vanished, appearing a meter from Dur's head. He reacted instinctively, dodging a split second before the impact.
"Your body recovers faster than I expected," Divilla remarked, finally turning to them. "Micro-tears in muscles heal almost instantly. That's a good sign: your power is making your physical shell more perfect. But don't flatter yourself. Without a Spirit, you're still at a disadvantage. Maël, with his awakened Spirit, will always be a step ahead, even if your Energy is denser."
She waved her hand, and dozens of stones began to move.
"My Spirit is Castling. It doesn't move objects, it swaps points in space. Sight is useless here. You must feel the disturbance of Energy at the moment space is 'pierced.'"
Dur closed his eyes. He focused on the Development of Energy within himself. He felt the power flowing through his channels—dense, heavy, striving to fill every cell. For him, this power was everything. If for Maël, energy was merely fuel for adaptation, for Dur, it was the very flesh.
Crack!
Dur felt the trembling of air to his left. He didn't see the stone, but he felt that the energy of space at that point had become momentarily different. The young man sharply thrust his hand forward. His palm met granite. The stone exploded into dust. Thanks to his enhanced regeneration, the skin on his hand didn't even redden—Energy instantly repaired any epithelial damage.
"Good," Divilla tossed out. "Your talent for densification is obvious. You are progressing in this faster than many recruits. But Maël... show him the difference."
Maël stepped forward. His Energy flashed with a shimmering, quicksilver light. When Divilla directed ten needles at him at once, his Spirit of Adaptability reacted instantly. Maël didn't just block the strikes—he moved as if he knew in advance where each needle would appear. His body twisted at unnatural angles, his Spirit changing the density of the air around him, creating fleeting zones of distortion. It was graceful and deadly.
Dur watched his friend and understood: Maël was stronger. His Spirit gave him tools Dur could only dream of. Dur's Energy made him tough and fast, but Maël was a "multi-dimensional" fighter.
By noon, the ground was littered with debris. Dur felt the liquid power seething through his channels. Despite the monstrous strain, he didn't feel the usual fatigue. On the contrary, his body was only becoming more alert. Regeneration efficiently flushed toxins from his muscles and healed any minor injuries before they could even start to hurt.
Divilla stopped the training and approached them. In her gaze towards Dur, there was no longer disdain, but no admiration either. It was the cold gaze of a professional, assessing a quality material.
"Your development is following the path of pure density, Dur. That's rare for someone who has just begun their journey. Usually, people spend years achieving such concentration of power in their muscles. You are progressing quickly, but don't think you're unique. In the world, there exist masters who followed the path of Energy Development without a Spirit and reached heights comparable to the greatest warriors. But you're as far from them as from the stars."
She turned to Maël.
"Your Energy is more refined, Maël. Your Spirit ennobles it. But you lack that animalistic, primitive density that Dur has. You need to learn to strengthen your Vessel as fanatically as he does, otherwise your Spirit will simply tear you apart at higher levels."
Divilla activated her Castling again, but this time the attacks became more complex. Objects began to change trajectory mid-transition.
Dur concentrated. He felt his power "anchor" itself in space. He didn't try to compete with Maël in elegance. His path required something else—stability. When the space around him began to tremble, he simply densified his background, making the very attempt at Castling in his zone extremely energy-intensive for Divilla.
At one point, when Divilla tried to swap Dur with the stone under his feet, the young man concentrated Energy in his feet so intensely that the slabs beneath him didn't just crack—they seemed to press into the ground. Space flickered, but Dur remained in place. His current strength was still insufficient to completely ignore an Adept's Castling, but his talent was enough to "throw off" her aim.
"Interesting," Divilla lowered her hand. "Your progress in density is truly impressive." Dur exhaled. His body instantly relaxed, Energy obediently returned to his channels, healing the capillaries in his eyes that had burst from the pressure. Within seconds, his gaze was clear again.
At that moment, he involuntarily thought of Ghill. "If she were here," Dur thought, "she'd figure out all the patterns of Divilla's Castling in five minutes." Ghill had always been the smartest of them. Her path to a "Better World" lay through knowledge, and Dur hoped her will was helping her endure the mountains of information she had heaped upon herself.
Divilla noticed Dur's momentary distraction but said nothing.
"That's all for today," she announced. "Your body has accepted the 'Bitter Gift' and the boar meat. Now you are ready for finer work. Tomorrow we will begin learning to direct Energy beyond the body. Maël, this will concern your Spirit. Dur... you will learn to create a 'pressure zone.'"
When Divilla left, Maël approached Dur and lightly punched him on the shoulder. "You're becoming frighteningly solid, my friend. My Spirit tells me that hitting you is like hitting an anvil."
"This is only the beginning," Dur replied, feeling fresh Energy filling his muscles. "We are both still too weak."
His body was becoming a more perfect instrument with each hour, and he was willing to pay any price for this progress.