Magma Dragon's Heir

50th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd imperial era

Newt had slept for ten hours straight and awoke next to a pile of pinecone-shaped crystals. He devoured sixty before depleting the mound and closing his eyes to drift into a meditative trance.

He ignored his uncle's insults and his former sparring partner's taunts, focusing on shaping his realm.

A thick pillar of rock with a spear-like tip burst from the ground, piercing high into the sky. The eruption of lava stopped completely, all of Newt's roaming mana focused on pushing the column higher and higher.

A hundred feet, then two hundred without showing a sign of slowing. At two hundred at fifty, the growth slowed, but foot by foot, the majestic pine advanced. It reached the height of trees in Magmin's realm and grew further.

At three hundred and ten feet, Newt faltered. His realm lacked the energy to propel the tree forward, but the youth kept pushing. The speed at which the tree rose dropped further, and Newt fought for every inch before finally collapsing, out of breath.

He stared up, panting. Then he burst into laughter.

"I did it! Three hundred and thirty-three feet." He gasped for air. "I hope there's a point other than a nice number."

Newt was certain he had hit a wall of sorts. It felt like the tip of the tree had struck a steel plate, one which Newt would never move past. Whether the barrier was real or imaginary, the youth would have to see during his next few attempts.

He lay motionless on the ground, breathing for several long seconds, before he heard lava gushing from the volcano once more.

I over-drafted myself. But could I have achieved this feat without pouring all of myself into it? Newt suspected not. In fact, he was certain that pacing himself through a slow and steady approach had limited the growth of his previous creations. He held back, and in holding himself back, he did more harm than good.

Suddenly, it became clear. The secret was to fully invest himself into his realm. It was that simple.

I guess I need to rest now and recover to my peak condition. How long was I at it, anyway? Newt had no idea. The adrenalin surge made the whole experience seem like several seconds, but the fatigue and his trembling hands told a different story. He must have been at it for hours.

He left his realm, opening his physical eyes, and found four gems waiting for him. Still no sign of Magmin.

It has neither arms nor bags or pockets. It must be bringing them back one by one, or two by two.

Newt had little sympathy for the snake's plight, devouring the manarium instead. Shivers ran down his spine, and he closed his eyes once more, wondering what had happened. As soon as he appeared in his realm, he noticed a change. The realm had grown. Lava spurting out of the crater had become shinier, more vibrant, the rocks beneath his feet firmer.

He recalled his father talking about it. The higher the realm's layer, the more real it felt. Changes were easy to make before the objects he shaped grew solid, but as his layers increased, the previously refined structures would grow sturdier, finally becoming immutable when he broke the barrier and entered the next realm.

On one hand, with the completion of his fourth layer, growing Magmin Pines in the third had become more difficult. On the other, he was drawing more mana.

"I hope it evens out," Newt muttered and got to work.

He was more or less right. The process took longer; the strain forcing him to his knees before he finished, but the extra trickle of energy supported him.

"You will never make it," Newt's uncle whispered, and the Magmin Pine collapsed inches before completion.

"You son of a—!" Debris rained, and Newt stopped himself before insulting his own grandmother. He drew a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was almost there, you know? A foot before the finish line. Why are you such a, such a… such an arse biscuit?"

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"You will spend the rest of your life digging for scraps in the mines," the heart demon said, unfazed by Newt's half-baked insult. "And I won't give you any."

"I'll ignore you next time. You are just a figment of my imagination, a voice I am hearing."

"I defeated your father and took over his castle. I threw you into a black pit. One day, I will eat you and take over your realm."

"Go swallow a melon!" Newt panted with rage, then grit his teeth. Stop. Pretend it's only the wind blowing. They are empty words of your fears and childish delusions. What have I learned from this? I shouldn't rush advancing through layers—

"The only place you are rushing to is your grave."

"I should prepare thoroughly and squish any distractions before they prove a hindrance."

"You are your own worst hindrance."

"I need to relax. Go throw some pebbles into the boiling lava." Newt got up, then stopped after two steps. "Yeah, because throwing earth energy back into the fire, while fire is trying to separate itself from it, is such a bright idea."

The youth settled on watching molten rock form into bubbles, which often grew to a shocking size before bursting and spraying lava several feet in every direction and letting the heat escape upwards.

Newt's uncle kept whispering threats and curses, but whenever the youth tried to respond, he found himself tongue-tied.

It's hard insulting your close relative without cursing yourself or your parents. He sighed, unable to let out his frustrations verbally.

An hour later, he returned to shaping Magmin Pines. He concentrated and reinforced his mind against interruptions, even though the voices had temporarily gone silent. Newt reached the critical point when his former sparring partner spoke.

"Watch out, m'lord," the heart demon shouted, hinting he was about to strike.

Newt steeled his resolve and focused on his task, ready to take the punishment, but the blow never came. Instead, the Magmin Pine hit its peak height, striking the invisible barrier. Newt collapsed and laughed while staring at the gigantic tree a handful of yards away.

"Three more for this area, then seven in the fourth layer."

"You'll never make it," Newt's uncle said, and lava erupted ominously.

"You are nothing but skins filled with hot air. Other than barking, there's little you can do. And if I expect your disruption, you can't even distract me."

The heart demons cackled in response, and Newt ignored them. After resting, he erected another Magmin Pine, and then another and another. The only area left was the new, fourth layer.

The fourth layer was more malleable. Hard rocks obeyed Newt's will immediately and shot towards the sky at considerably greater speed. Instead of slowing at two hundred and fifty feet, the growth started faltering at the three-hundred-foot mark.

Heart demons assailed Newt's mind, but he pressed on until the Magmin Pine slammed into the invisible barrier with too much force. The giant rock formation shuddered from the impact, then cracked.

Newt sighed in annoyance as chunks of rock crashed onto the ground a handful of feet away.

"Three hundred and thirty-three feet really is some sort of limit imposed on me by the realm." He paused for a moment, willing the earth to swallow the detritus. "I guess I'll have to go slower next time."

Hours passed. Newt developed his tiny grove, the gentle slope grew imperceptibly steeper as he toiled on creating new Magmin Pines, and lava burbled happily whenever it got the chance.

Finally, with everything in order, Newt awoke from his meditation, finding another sixty-eight crystals beside him. He consumed twenty of them before Magmin slithered into the cave, his body looped around two translucent pinecones.

"You are awake, newt. Have you made any progress?" the serpent hissed.

"I have completed the third and fourth layers, the volcano is steadily growing. I will keep consuming the crystals you bring me to grow stronger and increase my realm. In the meantime, I have some questions." Newt paused, sensing Magmin's sharp glare. "If you don't mind, Teacher?"

"Go ahead," Magmin hissed, still not happy, but friendlier than he was a moment ago.

"How deep are the Magmin Pines' roots?"

A beat of silence followed. "Why would I know something like that? They are as deep as needed. Why do you want to know that?"

"I was just wondering whether the size of the tree has anything to do with how much energy it gathers, and if so, why?"

"Why what?" Magmin hissed. "The tree size naturally correlates with the amount of energy it gathers. Is that not obvious? I would not have made them as big as they are out of boredom."

"Yes, but tall trees should gather air energy. For them to gather earth energy tinged with fire, they need deep roots, not high trunks. Right?"

Magmin shrugged, despite lacking shoulders.

"But there is an even more important question. Why did you stop at this height? Why not make them taller?"

"That is as much as they could grow. What? Can you make yours taller?" Newt heard a dangerous hint of hostility in the serpent's voice.

"No, no, no. Not at all," he lied without breaking a sweat. "Mine are two hundred and twenty-two feet tall, around seven tenths of your Magmin Pines."

Magmin snorted. "It is only natural. Reptiles are superior to amphibians, but you have put in a valiant effort. Work hard, and with my coaching, you may yet become a lizard one day."

"Thank you," Newt said, wondering what it meant that he had outdone a dragon in their own realm sculpting technique.

Hopefully, it meant his future was bright.