Magma Dragon's Heir

55th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd imperial era

Common domesticated raptors, often called hounds, were small saurians humans had tamed for hunting and as pets. The original beasts, ones void of mana, barely reached Newt's knees. Snout to tail, they measured around six feet and rarely weighed more than thirty-five pounds.

The monsters charging towards Newt had nothing to do with reality. They were packed with sinewy muscles, five feet tall, reaching to Newt's nose, and weighed at least three hundred pounds. Their scales ranged from light brown to dark green, their softer bellies the light-yellow shade of sand, just as Newt remembered them. But his eyes were trained on their thin arms, and claws longer and sharper than daggers.

Newt gaped in a daze, gasping for breath, his heart trying to escape his chest as the raptor swiped its claw towards his neck and face. With a scream, he awakened. Sweating, he grabbed his jugular and kept touching it until he confirmed no blood gushed from the lethal wound. The youth was about to speak when he clenched his mouth shut, strangling the consequence of extended solitude.

Those heart demons are from when I was a child, when father's hounds rushed in front of me as they headed out to hunt. He blushed, recalling his horrified screams and panic at seeing an entire pack of saurians slightly shorter than himself, rushing towards him. When the incident took place, Newt was certain the raptors would tear him to shreds, and his terrified tears built the foundations for his poor reputation. In less than a day, everyone in the castle knew he was a coward and a weakling, too dumb to flee from that which scared him. Worse, it was his beloved, worried uncle who came to his rescue.

Newt shook his head, driving away the ugly memory, and focused on what lay ahead. I have at least three heart demons; Uncle, his powers unknown, Plowson, wielding a training sword, and the pack of six human-sized raptors. I must rid myself of them before I can continue sculpting my realm.

Newt closed his eyes and reentered meditation. He once more found himself in a different region of his realm, near the edge of the calcified forest, close to the border between the fifth and the sixth layer.

No sign of saurians or humans anywhere.

Newt once more considered erecting a Magmin Pine, but again discarded the thought. The disturbance would last at least half an hour, and it was guaranteed to attract attention from all Newt's heart demons. Instead, he quietly worked on his earth techniques. Turning his body into living granite was certain to defeat both the raptors and Plowson, who wielded nothing but a mock sword.

The technique came naturally, a flex of an incorporeal muscle which seemingly transmuted Newt's entire body save for his eyes. He was about to summon another training dummy when he realized that was how the raptors had found him.

My heart demons were omnipresent when they did not have physical bodies, but now that they do, they can't be everywhere at once. Just like the sharpbeak, they must find me to harm me.

Since that was the case, Newt jumped straight to the second part of his plan. He conjured Magmin Scales atop his Granite Crust, a slight weight pressing against his mind. It was like the trick his mother had shown him when he was a child, rubbing his tummy while patting his head. Initially, Newt felt clumsy, but within minutes the unease disappeared, and he could properly use both techniques.

Now for the last detail.

Newt willed Magmin Flame to cover his Magmin Scales. It hit like running into a tripwire while sprinting. The leap from dividing his focus into three directions rather than two proved too much. Magmin Scales flickered out of existence, and Newt screamed in pain as Magmin's prophecy came true. In a flash of flames, Newt became a human torch and burned to cinders.

The young man awoke with a scream, patting his arms and torso. No sign of scorching wounds. He took another moment to confirm his flesh was not charred before relaxing and staring at the faint swirls drifting in the pitch darkness.

I need to figure this out. Can I merge Magmin Scales and Magmin Flames into a single skill?

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Newt closed his eyes again and appeared a dozen feet away from the volcano's scorching crater. He looked around, and even though he found no trace of his heart demons, he withdrew to the safety of the Magmin Pines.

The first step of merging the two techniques was obvious, feeding each a half of his fire mana. It would weaken both, and offer no protection against incoming flames, but the technique Newt was trying to develop was offensive in nature. He wanted to punch his enemy and burn them at the same time, hoping two types of energy would increase the chance of piercing enemy defenses.

The simple, obvious merger took over a hundred attempts and nearly two hours of Newt's time, but he completed the technique. Newt hoped that with enough practice, he would reduce the amount of mental tasks when trying to set himself ablaze.

"Watch out, m'lord," a familiar voice shouted, and Newt turned to face it. He watched the training sword approach in slow motion. He jumped left to dodge, but the padded leather followed him and struck his face without error.

Newt smacked his head against the ground and woke up in the dark mine.

"Son-of-a—" he cursed and stopped himself from checking whether the heart demon had broken his nose.

I should've just turned myself into granite and shattered the sword. Silently grumbling, he rubbed his nose despite himself, but pointedly did not check his hand for blood.

Again!

Newt opened his eyes in his realm, finding himself even closer to the crater.

"Watch out, m'lord," the shadow of a servant called Plowson said behind Newt's back.

For some inexplicable reason, the unprepared youth spun around and saw the bulge of padding crawling towards his face.

Oh, for the love of… Newt turned his flesh into granite, the training sword struck his nose, chipping it, and the young man fell into the pool of lava.

He opened his eyes with yet another scream.

"This is annoying," he said after collecting himself, then slapped his mouth shut.

I should get away from the lava as soon as I appear within my realm. Even harmless attacks can be fatal around a giant pool of molten rock.

Newt closed his eyes once more, ready to follow his own advice, but there was no need. He was nowhere near the flaming pit. Instead, he found himself far from the cover of Magmin Pines, in one of his new, unsculpted layers.

I need to find out what layer I am at now. Unfortunately, Newt still had no way of knowing. People rarely skipped stages of their realm expansion and knew when their previous layer had stabilized.

Newt willed a large hole to open in the ground, confirming that this distant layer was stable and that he could shape it.

Hours passed within the safety of Newt's bunker as he practiced his new hybrid ability, turning the complex process into muscle memory. Once he could use it as easily as breathing, Newt decided it was time to try using it together with Granite Crust.

The sensation of doing two unrelated things at the same time was back, the discomfort of multitasking much greater than before, but it was manageable. Newt no longer felt like he was juggling one ball too many, and achieved what he had wanted.

Flames rose from his skin, which remained as tough as rock.

What if I only set my fists ablaze, but shield the rest of my body with Magmin Scales?

Newt's focus slipped immediately, followed by his techniques. Searing granite burned his flesh, but Newt concentrated and managed to salvage the situation and spare himself another loud awakening.

To protect himself from the scorching granite, Newt summoned Magmin Scales beneath the Granite Crust part of his transformation. There were no open flames, and the layer of granite shielding Newt's body slowly turned to glowing lava.

Wait! This is even better.

Newt examined his accidental discovery with greater scrutiny. He touched the wall of his burrow and got disappointed when the blazing lava did not stick to the surface. He frowned, but quickly realized what was happening.

This lava is not a physical substance. It's just an amalgamation of earth and fire aligned mana. In order to stick lava to my targets, I need to melt physical rock, or conjure it through mana, but I'm realms away from conjuring substance out of thin air.

Newt wanted to test his theory immediately, right inside the cave he had made, but found a problem. The environment in his realm obeyed his will, unlike the matter in the real world. Training in his realm would produce no result at best, and might even cripple his progress with the technique in the real world because of all the wrong assumptions he might make.

Newt was in the middle of considering how to use earthen energy to manipulate rock when he heard the familiar bark.

The pack of raptors was drawing closer, and since the monsters were trained for hunting and tracking, it was almost certain they would find him eventually.

Good, Newt thought. Time to get rid of my first heart demons and increase my hold over my realm.