Magma Dragon's Heir

54th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd imperial era

Newt sat in a dimly lit tunnel, staring at a wall he could hardly see. The jagged floor and debris bit into his butt, and the echo of a distant wind whispered into his ears.

"Was that a dream?"

Tears slid down Newt's cheeks as he struggled for air. He was a mine slave, a wretched creature.

No!

He closed his eyes and tried to sense his realm. Twin pearls of fire and earth pulsated in his chest and head, answering his call. Newt sank into meditation and found himself inside his realm, but there were changes. The first thing he noticed was that the gushing lava bursting out of the ground and into the air like a geyser had disappeared. Lava still flowed, but languidly, lazily oozing down the mountainside.

The second thing Newt noticed was that the realm barrier was much, much further away.

I must have gained two or three layers.

As he gazed into the distance, the third change found him.

"Watch out, m'lord," Newt turned towards the source of the sound and faced a tall, muscular youth holding a wooden sword with padded edges and a dull tip.

The man was bare from the waist up, his torso like a rock chiseled with muscles. The familiar sight failed to impress or even intimidate Newt. He could only see one thing - the cotton-padded edge meant to soften the blow. That wooden implement was once his bane. No matter what Newt did, no matter how hard he tried, that dull edge would smack him on the face, chest, or fingers, often knocking him down to the ground.

Newt tried to dodge. He ducked, but the rough leather followed. With a muffled thud, it smacked him square in the nose. Newt fell, banging his head against the granite floor, and awoke with a gasp.

For a moment, Newt was surprised, angry, and then he burst into laughter. "It wasn't a dream!"

The notion of his heart demon forcing him out of meditative introspection was an unpleasant one, but the fact that he had a realm, and even heart demons, was a significant improvement in Newt's overall state. It was proof he had not gone mad and imagined the entire episode with Magmin, despite his desperate situation.

Now, what should I do? Uncle is a mage, and he had fully expanded his second realm years ago. Luckily, his heart demons should have barred his advancement. I know about all his spells and abilities, but I can't match his skill regardless of what I know. Then again, he is a fire mage. I can devote my mana to Magmin Scales and win through superior physical strength.

Knights had vastly superior physiques than mages, and mageknights were a slight step stronger than knights. Victor, a peak second realm mage, was only fifty percent stronger than a regular human. What made him dangerous were his spells and magical abilities, even if in the second realm the range of his magic was quite limited, a mere handful of inches away from his body.

Newt, on the other hand, once he reached the peak of the first realm, would be more than twice as physically strong as his uncle, and more than thrice as strong as an adult man.

A loud rumble interrupted Newt's planning. His guts growled. He was so hungry, he considered taking a bite off the wall just to put something into his empty stomach.

Food is up. With that thought, Newt picked up the pickaxe and headed for the surface, or more precisely, to the gate of his prison where the guards delivered his meals. I need to eat something, and I need to work out, my body has withered in this place.

Fortunately for Newt, mines offered plenty of opportunity for exercise, their entire expanse his practice yard, but the lack of healthy, nutritious sustenance posed a problem. The only way to get meat was by finding manarium crystals. Thinking about that, Newt perceived the world with his mindcore.

The dark tunnel suddenly spawned a faint current of light, which flowed through it. Walls shone with the weak glow of residual manarium, while a single patch glowed brighter. But even that light was drowned by a brilliant light source behind Newt's back.

He turned, facing two blazing, ghostly stars throbbing with power, suspended midair. The upper one was wreathed in tiny, flickering flames, while the lower had a ring of illusory dust and pebbles around it, both pulsating like living hearts. The sight was magical, and Newt ignored it completely.

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Instead, he clenched his pickaxe's haft and approached the somewhat brighter patch on the wall. He heaved and struck the granite, sending a shower of rocks to the ground. The glow grew stronger, but instead of illuminating the shaft, the light turned to mist and joined the incorporeal current flowing through the tunnel system.

Two more blows revealed a manarium shard, with three more hidden a bit deeper.

Four pounds of overcooked meat, Newt thought, staring at the treasure with which a man could buy two spacious houses in a city, or at least a town. He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly enraged by the injustice of it all. And yet, I need that meat more than the mana these inferior crystals contain.

With a heavy sigh, he headed for the surface, hiding three gems in a nook on his way up. Like always, his jailers waited beyond the barred entrance into the mine.

Newt shielded his eyes from the torchlight and placed the rough crystal into a wooden box without a word before pushing it out.

The guards took a while, inspecting the gem. "You will have your meat tomorrow. Where have you been? You haven't taken any bread or water for over a week."

"Hurt my leg. Couldn't walk," Newt grumbled before the guards pushed a loaf of bread and a small jug of fresh water.

With food in hand, Newt realized just how starved he was. In Magmin's core realm, he had survived on pure mana, but without that tether, his malnourished body screamed for sustenance.

He devoured the bread like a saurian beast and washed it down with water before wiping his mouth.

"More, give me my yesterday's rations."

"Shut up! Who do you think you are?" a guard Newt was unfamiliar with shouted. "We are free men, while you are a common slave. Get back into the darkness unless you want us to forget to mention the crystal."

"Just try it," Newt sneered, suddenly recalling why he hadn't spoken with the guards for over two years. "If you do that, my uncle will kill you and your families."

"Stop it. He's right," the second guard said. "This is a cozy job, and we get a bonus whenever he finds a gem."

"My food," Newt demanded.

"Piss off," the first guard said. "You will get more food tomorrow."

Newt wanted to argue more, but clamped his mouth shut. The guards had eaten or taken Newt's uneaten meal at the end of their shift. The only thing he could do was deliver all future gems to the other team of guards, not that those men were any better than the two standing at the brighter side of the bars.

Swallowing his indignation rather than food, Newt retreated down the shaft and stopped next to the place where he had hid the remaining manarium crystals. He sat down, leaning against the rock, and entered meditation.

He was once more in his realm, a different place than last time, the resentful sparring partner nowhere in sight.

I can't erect new Magmin Pines, it takes too long, but I can work on my techniques. Last time, when I wiped away the lava while earth mana infused my body, my arms felt stronger. It's probably a knight's body augmentation; I should try to replicate it consciously.

Newt tried to mobilize his mana, but immediately noticed there was no need to manipulate his realm to release the energy, since he was already inside it. Any energy he spent immediately recovered, any damage he suffered without dying regenerated in moments once the danger had passed, just like it did for Magmin.

With the unfair advantage and unlimited supply of energy, he started practicing. For warmup, he covered his skin in Granite Crust, taking the time to observe the rough scales again. They were extremely rigid, but they did not hamper his movement, thanks to their small size.

Now, what did I do? I stopped the earth mana before it reached my skin, afraid it would extinguish Magmin Scales.

Newt dismissed Granite Crust, but kept circulating the earth energy through his body. He willed a piece of the ground to merge into a black rock and tried to lift it. At first, he sent the energy through his bones, but noticed no change in his strength. However, he nearly launched the granite slab off the ground when he flooded his muscles with earth mana.

Newt took a moment to inspect the state of his body and found the muscles and heavy strain had cracked his bones. He changed the circulation and the energy flow through his bones and muscles, but then his tendons protested, followed by his organs.

By the time he was done with experimenting, the only thing he did not need to reinforce were his head, lungs, and heart. Newt had lost track of time, but he believed he could not have taken more than fifteen minutes to reach all the conclusions.

Next up, throwing punches. He spent half a minute willing the slab of granite he had created into the shape of a man and merging its legs with the ground. The statue somewhat resembled Newt's uncle, even though the youth did not intend it. While the resemblance was unintentional, Newt did not mind such a perfect target for punching and venting his anger.

First, he reinforced only his fist, making them harder than stone, and struck. It was a solid blow, all the way from his legs. Rock struck rock with a boom, Newt's wrist shattered, while his elbow and shoulder popped out of place. The youth screamed, but his injuries healed within two breaths.

I need to start by reinforcing my entire body. Then I'll see which parts I can safely ignore.

Newt was deep in thought when he heard a sudden bark.

What the—He wondered for a moment, before he realized what he was hearing. Raptors, his father's hunting hounds, which terrified him when he was a toddler, were coming for him.

The granite ground shook as the bloodthirsty beasts charged towards him.

Newt's breathing quickened, and sweat suddenly started rolling down his body. He had a phobia, a childhood trauma, and it was coming to bite him.

And there I was, laughing at poor little Magmin. He tried to chuckle, but could not. Men and beasts alike suffered from their fears.