Growing Stronger

"I-I..." The mage trembled violently, his entire body wracked with shivers of abject terror. 

His will, his determination, had never truly been tested – with the power of Magic coursing through his veins, he had been regularly treated as a being elevated above common folk. His talents were exceptional enough that he had been able to command a small group of other mages without question. 

So it was only natural that when faced with the cold, brutal reality that Gladius embodied, all of his determination and projected confidence would shatter instantly, like a mere illusion dispelled by the harsh light of truth.

"Please...please don't torture me..." The mage managed to wheeze out through pained, ragged breaths, the words scraping from his throat like shards of broken glass. "I will tell you....everything...." 

In that moment, nothing else mattered to him besides the primal desire for self-preservation, the instinctual need to cling to life by any means necessary.

Gladius's smile widened with satisfaction at the mage's capitulation. He casually struck out with a precise punch, the blow slamming into the mage's temple and instantly rendering him unconscious. 

Gladius didn't want the man to die just yet – he still had need of him.

Swiftly searching through the mage's magical pouch, Gladius procured a vial of healing liquid and poured it down the unconscious man's throat. As he had expected, the healing magic didn't necessarily need to be swallowed or consumed – its ethereal essence simply absorbed into the mage's body, slightly mending his injuries.

Gladius only fed him enough of the restorative liquid to ensure the mage wouldn't randomly expire on him. He didn't need to risk this broken husk of a man trying anything foolish the moment his back was turned.

With everyone else finally dealt with in one way or another, Gladius began to loot the corpses, swiftly stripping the Ember Forge mages and the Gale Academy mages of their magical pouches and leaving the rest intact. 

He had no idea how to properly access or utilize the spatial properties of these magical containers. Even when touching the mages' staves and flowing his soul essence into them, there was no reaction beyond a faint trembling in the air – the staves remained tantalizingly inert and unusable in his grasp.

As for the mages' enchanted robes and accoutrements, Gladius knew it would be foolish to don them himself, at least for the time being. 

Given his intent to travel to Emberstar City, being identified as the one responsible for slaughtering a group of mages would only hinder his plans.

Once the spoils were sorted and stowed away, Gladius turned his attention towards the towering Spiritual Tree that had drawn them to this accursed place. Even in the wake of the chaotic, bloody combat that had unfolded before its ancient boughs, the tree still radiated an almost celestial aura of serenity and power, seemingly unblemished by the ruination that now surrounded it.

Gladius swiftly approached the sacred tree, his sword sense instantly awakening to a newfound state of enlightenment as his eyes widened, feeling an electrifying tingle that rippled throughout every inch of his being. T

he Force of Magic was quite clear, even to his senses, when in such close proximity to this Spiritual Tree. Various intricate formulas and complex mystical principles were being laid bare before his sword sense, their secrets whispering tantalizing promises of untold power.

Being here felt far more in tune with the fundamental nature of the world than anything he had experienced before. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, granting him a glimpse into realms of existence that had been previously obscured from his senses.

Gladius didn't hesitate. He quickly sat down at the base of the tree, spreading his sword sense outwards as he began to ponder the revelations that assailed him from every direction.

From what he could glean, the realms of Magic involved comprehending the mystical energies of the world, allowing one to absorb those energies and make them grow stronger within their own Innate Spirit. And a stronger Innate Spirit, in turn, was the gateway to gaining stronger Magical power, granting access to ever-higher realms of mystical might.

Gladius already knew that he could convert Magical energy into Sword energy and have it fused into his body by virtue of the unique effects granted by the Sturdy Body Art. 

With that thought in mind, he began to reach out with his sword sense, pulling at the dense wellspring of Magical energy that radiated from the Spiritual Tree itself.

There weren't many complications for Gladius in this endeavor. Simply latching onto a small portion of the raw Mana within the tree and drawing it forth was effortless. His soul reached out and ensnared the mystical Force of Magic, the pure, unbridled power of the fundamental energies that underpinned all existence.

Then, with a mental exertion akin to flexing an atrophied muscle, he flowed this raw Mana into the mystical pathways of the Sword Force, the conversion process unfolding along seamless lines that seemed to bend to his very will. 

Within moments, his sword sense could detect the presence of pure Sword Energy that seemed similar in nature to the worldly Magical Energy he had drawn forth, yet possessing its own unique principles that only Gladius could truly resonate with on a fundamental level.

He flowed this newly-formed Sword Energy into his body, directing it straight towards the core of his being where his Innate Spirit Sword resided in all its spectral glory. 

The spirit sword faintly trembled, a soft light sparkling across its translucent silver length as the influx of pure Sword Energy enhanced and amplified its celestial power.

Everything about this process was incredibly smooth, almost unnaturally so. 

Would other mages have found the absorption of raw Magical Energy into their own Innate Spirits to be such an effortless task? 

Gladius recalled the Ember Forge and Gale Academy mages lamenting the fact that Magical absorption was quite the slow and difficult process, even for those of exceptional talent.

And their talents had clearly been better than those of the mages from the small town they had passed through, if their arrogant boasting was to be believed. 

So was Gladius's process truly faster, more efficient than what was considered the norm? 

He couldn't say for certain, but it would certainly make sense.

Every time Gladius fought, every time he plunged headlong into the crucible of combat and let his blade taste the essence of life and death, his comprehension towards the worldly Sword Force, the Magical Force, and the fundamental nature of existence itself advanced by leaps and bounds. 

It was how, during the middle of his recent clash, he had reached a new boundary of understanding that had allowed him to perform those light, airy steps, seemingly moving in tandem with the very currents of the wind itself until his speed had increased to levels that defied mortal ken.

Either way, Gladius immersed himself fully in the cycle of comprehension, conversion, and absorption. Converted Sword energy continually poured into his Innate Spirit Sword without cessation, the spectral blade drinking deeply of the power that flowed through Gladius's pathways like a raging torrent of pure, distilled essence.

Nothing was blocking or hindering Gladius from fully absorbing and metabolizing every last mote of energy he could wrest from this sacred Spiritual Tree. So he felt no compunction in taking as much from its ancient wellspring as he was capable of containing within his own spiritual vessel.

Time passed in the blink of an eye for Gladius, his sense of its steady march becoming utterly irrelevant as he surrendered himself to the rhythmic ebb and flow of absorption and growth. 

He had no notion of how long he had remained in that semi-trancelike state until he suddenly sensed nothing more than the faintest wisps of residual Magical Energy emanating from the once-vibrant Spiritual Tree.

When he finally opened his eyes and beheld the tree anew, its radiant luster had been utterly extinguished. Its bark and branches appeared withered and desiccated, as if the ancient plant had been denied the life-giving essence of water for dozens upon dozens of years in an unbroken stretch of drought.

Clearly, Gladius had made full use of everything this sacred tree had to offer, draining it of its mystical energies down to the last negligible vestiges.

His lips curled into a wide, satisfied smile as a tremendous surge of power coursed through his veins, thrumming with the potent vitality of newfound strength. 

He felt sharper than before, keener – as if he were a blade that had been lovingly refined and honed by the celestial hands of beings far beyond mortal comprehension.

His Innate Spirit Sword had gained a brilliant new radiance, its spectral form seeming to flare with scintillating inner light. And when Gladius's sword sense reached out to caress its phantasmal edge, he could have sworn the entire construct had grown larger, more overwhelming in its presence within the unique sword space that resided at the very core of his being.