Magma Dragon's Heir

53rd of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd imperial era

Newt could not believe it, but he got the Granite Crust on his first attempt. The ability was identical to Magmin Scales, but instead of covering him in fire mana, a solid shell of earth mana crept across his skin.

"Well, I never expected you would do it correctly on your first try, but it makes sense. If you have a natural water affinity, mastering earth and air should come easier than fire. Good job. Good Newt." Magmin's words were pure nonsense, but actively learning magical abilities was a foreign notion to a first realm serpent whose skills all came from instinctive reactions and hereditary traits.

"Thank you." Newt thanked his teacher before asking about a concept he had been mulling over for the past two days. "Can Granite Crust protect me from Magmin Flame?"

"To an extent," Magmin confirmed Newt's guess. Magical defenses, even the purely physical ones, offered limited protection from other magical abilities. "But it will do an inferior job. Granite Crust increases the toughness of your skin against bodily harm. Unlike most things, heat passes right through granite, and after several moments, you would have an equivalent of a searing rock stuck to your skin."

"What happens with the heat once I dismiss Granite Crust?" Newt asked, thinking of an obvious loophole.

"It remains where it was, like any object embedded in it. Broken fangs and claws will fall to the ground, but if someone is trying to clench their maw shut on you, and you dismiss your protection, it will hurt. I imagine suddenly releasing a lot of stored heat next to your skin wouldn't exactly feel pleasant."

I will have to think of another way to use Granite Crust and Magmin Flame at the same time.

"Grow, train, I will gather the rest of the gems you need, and once you're ready, we will slay the sharpbeak." Newt could hear the impatience in Magmin's hisses as the serpent slithered out of the cave.

Newt obeyed. He consumed the manarium, and when he checked his realm, he confirmed he was close to fully forming his sixth layer.

"I can consider alternatives while erecting Magmin Pines," he mumbled and closed his eyes.

As hours passed, he created ten trees, before noticing a difference between his Magmin Pines and Magmin's.

"The bark of my trees is smooth like a column, but Magmin's have a rough bark." He paused, thinking. "They almost looked like rocky scales."

Suddenly, his eyes shone with realization, "Or Granite Crust!"

He summoned the ability without thinking and checked his skin. Sure enough, the crust appeared identical to the bark of the trees covering Magmin's realm.

"Damn that snake!" Newt cursed. "He didn't tell me I could reinforce Granite Crust by sculpting the fire-earth tree's bark!"

The principle was similar to what his father had done with a field of swords in his second realm, from which the former patriarch of the Salamandra clan empowered his sword skills.

Newt went back to his third layer and the original fire-earth trees he had erected, his body still covered with Granite Crust. He looked at his arm, then focused on the tree. The already settled structure resisted his will, but gave way after a few breaths. The smooth bark grew rough, splitting into black mosaics with patterns of jagged cracks, which Newt realized were too regular.

"You are a fool." Newt jumped at his uncle's venomous whisper, and the transformation stopped.

"You really are a petty piece of—" Newt grunted, and his heart demons screeched in laughter.

"You didn't even achieve anything, you petty ghost. You cost me a few moments of focus, nothing else." Newt clamped his mouth shut. Stop acknowledging them. They may pose a danger to me. What if I'm about to figure out something and they strike at that time, distracting me or making me forget what I was thinking about?

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It was only then that Newt realized he had been keeping Granite Crust active for minutes.

This is great. I can practice my techniques inside my realm, and hopefully make them easier to comprehend with my real body. Now…

He examined Granite Crust and found the cracks and etchings covering it identical, differing slightly in size, but nothing else.

I will have to make them uniform later. It should be like cutting and polishing gems, increasing the durability or something. Now, back to the trees.

Newt shifted his focus back on the Magmin Pines, and one by one changed their barks to match his Granite Crust.

The endeavor took hours, but Newt found it easier as he moved into the newer layers. Then he tried erecting a Magmin Pine inside the sixth layer. The ground cracked and the wide pole emerged, but crumbled before reaching five feet in height, leaving behind a small pile of debris.

Newt frowned and tried again, achieving an identical result.

Right. I can't sculpt a layer before forming it fully. He scratching his head in embarrassment, recalling his tutor's words.

Newt could not fathom why not. The land was there; the energy was there; yet the tree refused to take. He tried once more, his attempt ending just like the last two, before giving up on the idea and focusing on another.

He once more willed Granite Crust to cover his skin, and examined the difference compared to his physical body. First off, the technique did not require him to summon mana. Second, it used no mana to remain active, but it seemed to tax Newt's mind just like it did outside his realm.

What does that mean? Newt wondered, struggling not to speak his thoughts aloud. I can train here and perfect the form of my techniques, maybe even make it easier on my mind to maintain them. I could also experiment here, but I must follow Father's advice and be careful not to injure my real body with uncontrolled bursts of mana.

He started slowly, covering himself in Magmin Scales. He examined his armor, and found each scale had an etching, just like Granite Crust. The design differed, but Newt knew they were made for the same purpose, one representing fire, the other earth, or an aspect of it.

Where do I—?

"Struggling is pointless. Just die in the mines already."

Newt breathed in and out, letting the anger wash over him and ignoring the laughter. Then he focused back on his thoughts.

Where can I etch this glyph? It needs to be related to fire, but all I have fire-related is heat, which can't bear any marks, and lava, which is liquid, and any glyphs I draw would get washed away.

Newt scratched his head in frustration. Is the additional defense worth it?

He immediately realized how silly his question was. A greater defense meant achieving more with less, permanently increasing the effectiveness with which he used his mana.

Newt looked up at the increasingly crimson sky.

Can I will the burning clouds into this shape?

He tried, but the clouds moved with the current of heat and mana seeping into and out of Newt's realm, quickly distorting and dispersing.

"Damn," he whispered a curse, then silently cursed for speaking when there was no need, his heart demons jeering.

I can't wait for you guys to become corporeal, so I can destroy you. Newt strolled around his realm, summoning Magmin Flame atop his Magmin Scales, but failing to see any new runes even when he focused his third eye on it.

As he walked, he reached a stream of lava. He was about to jump over it when a flash of inspiration struck him. Newt shifted the ground, reshaping the stream's straight line into the fire glyph from Magmin Scales.

Lava took a while to fill the pattern, then kept flowing down like it did before his change. He kept watching his handiwork, and the incoming lava devoured it and turned into a lava puddle in a matter of minutes. Newt recreated the rune, but raised and thickened all the banks around which lava flowed. The design persisted for ten minutes without change.

Newt nodded. Good enough for now.

He moved upstream, repeating the process over and over, reforming the straight flow of lava into twisting fire glyphs. By the time he was done, Newt felt like he had gone through a meat grinder.

I'll grab some sleep and check my progress tomorrow.

Newt hardly opened his eyes from his meditation before falling asleep. When he awoke hours later, his entire body hurt. His back was one messy, giant cramp, his legs and arms dead.

I haven't moved in days.

He slowly crawled into a sitting position, bending left and right, releasing a series of loud pops.

I haven't eaten; I haven't drunk. By all means I should be dead, but the high density mana is keeping me alive.

His stomach grumbled. But I'm definitely not happy. As soon as I get out of the mines, I'm going to eat and drink my fill. Then I'm going to defeat that bas—uncle of mine. I don't care what happens with the rest of the family, with the servants and with everyone else. They left me to die. I have no obligations towards them.

"I see you are awake. Consume these gems, and then we are off to fight the sharpbeak."