A River Forms Drop By Drop (4)

Two figures strolled in quiet companionship along a winding stone pathway adorned with a tapestry of creeping vines. The pathway, weathered by the passage of time, led them through a lush woodland, casting dappled shadows upon their way.

Their faces etched with some deep lines, betraying a life lived. They moved slowly, each step echoing off the age-worn stone path, stirring dust that hadn't been disturbed in a long time. The emblem of their village – a rank 3 insignia – glinted on their attire, its reflection captured in the antiquated path beneath them.

The elder leaning on the weathered cane, Blard, punctured the silence, "Mitrus, that young lad, Vitomir snatched him up so quickly," he began, his gaze remaining unwaveringly forward, undistracted by the path's scenic beauty. "Can't say it's surprising. Vitomir's been looking to forge the leaders of this generation in his camp, and what better way than to take the most promising one under his wing."

Elder Aretas spoke solemnly, his voice echoing in the narrow corridor. "Indeed. The Kuznetsov faction already had Gio putting pressure on us, and now Mitrus is joining too. It looks like we need to be more aggressive in our benefits for us to get more people on our side."

Blard nodded, a hint of contemplation playing at the corners of his eyes. "True. Some talents ignite and extinguish quickly, others simmer for longer before blazing into brilliance. Vitomir is only thinking of the short term. We need to invest in both. Let us not forget what happened with young Leon. Do you remember when he was barely someone? Till that lad somehow soared to Rank 1 and 2, surpassing all to stand shoulder to shoulder with us."

Silence reigned again, only the syncopated rhythm of Alard's cane tapping against the stone path punctuating their shared contemplation. Their thoughts wandering back to the past.

Aretas eyebrows knitted in thought, "Speaking of benefits, have you heard about the changes in the Tournament of Awakening?"

Blard, caught off guard, blinked. "Changes? What changes?" His interest, once dormant, now perked up.

"I'm genuinely taken aback your faction hasn't filled you in yet."

Blard shook his head. "I've barely come out of my hermit-like seclusion. You're the first soul I've encountered."

"Well, I'm honored."

"Don't be. You're just the first one to shatter my much-loved silence," Blard retorted, his chuckle transforming his weathered face into a landscape of mirth. "But go on, tell me about these changes."

Aretas' voice shifted, "They're planning to up the stakes for the tournament. A bit of it due to internal squabbles. But also, they're looking at the newer generations to fill the gaps of the old who died in the beast wave."

"Internal problems? The infighting, still? Livia's urging for us to cross swords with the other two villages again? Haven't we had our share of troubles with Dilrind and Laverton?"

"That's still on the table." Aretas replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But this time, it's Markus squabbling with the Veteran Association. They've been trading blows over some disagreements. So, they've decided to let their representatives in the tournament decide the outcome."

"What is Gautier insisting on now?"

"Markus has been buying and allocating veteran resources, which bites on the interest of the Veteran association."

"So, this tension and want to increase the firepower of the village. The prize is nearly double now; the village chief also wants the top 3 to get a look at the village inheritance," Aretas announced a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Double, you say?" Blard sounded surprised. "Well, that would certainly draw in more competitors, not to mention the crowd. It'll be quite the spectacle."

"Betting is going to be fun this time. HO HO HO" the elder chuckled, his voice rumbling through the stone pathway

***

"I slept for 72 hours," Osric murmured, the edges of his gaze still dyed with the fiery hue of sleep deprivation.

Yet, rest was a luxury he could not afford. With the elementary membrane now in place, it was time to venture into the next critical step - the construction of the lattice mesh.

He pulled himself upright, surveying the cluster of essence stones in his possession with an appraising gaze.

"It should suffice,"

Awakening the dormant energy within his nodes, he embarked on the next stage of the fracturing process. The elementary barrier had achieved its purpose, creating an enclosed system. But the lattice mesh – that was the essence of fracturing, the key to rendering the closed system mobile.

The lattice mesh was a complex framework of interconnected energy strands that, when woven accurately, constructed a durable and effective energy network. It would act as the skeleton of his closed system, an architectural blueprint dictating the distribution and regulation of energy.

Again, he called upon his energy, the nodes within him responding with a familiar surge. The energy, now much controlled, poured into his left hand, shrouded within the energy membrane. He began to manipulate the energy with the practiced finesse of a master weaver, carefully threading it into a complex lattice of strands.

Like a spider spinning its web, Osric stitched the energy strands together, each strand interlacing with its kin. This operation demanded profound precision and control. A single misaligned strand could destabilize the entire lattice, leading to chaotic energy flux or, in a worst-case scenario, trigger a systemic rupture.

His hand, under the luminescent glow of the energy, began to take on an otherworldly appearance. The lattice mesh, fine as silk and strong as steel, crisscrossed over his skin, beneath the membrane. It shimmered with a subdued power, the strands pulsing rhythmically as the energy traversed its intricate network.

Osric guided the energy strands to encircle each bone, manifesting an energy sheath that mimicked the structure of his skeletal framework. He could sense the energy seeping into his bones, enhancing their resilience and robustness.

Drawing a deep breath, he began the elaborate procedure. He urged the strands of the lattice to reach out, like the tendrils of a crawling vine, to his muscles and tendons. The strands wove their way into the muscle fibers, coiling around tendons and spiraling along the bones.

Having successfully integrated the bones,muscles and tendons into the lattice mesh, Osric braced himself for the next stage - intertwining the tendons and, finally, the skin - the most expansive organ of the human body. The energy tendrils gently permeated the layers of his skin, from the outer epidermis to the deeper dermis. He could feel the energy mingling with the nerve endings in his skin, inducing a sensation of mild tingling that gradually receded as the integration proceeded. It was an odd sensation, akin to thousands of tiny points of warmth expanding across his hand.

As the last strand was weaved into place, a palpable shift occurred. The energy within the lattice stabilized, humming with a newfound resonance. His hand, now a closed system, felt different - more potent, filled with a power that was both formidable and more importantly, more mobile.

The sensation was peculiar, a mingling of physical and ethereal that was both thrilling and disconcerting. His hand twitched involuntarily as the energy strands knitted through the muscles, a testament to the potency of the fracturing process.

Immersed in the profound sensation, Osric allowed himself a moment to marvel at the transformation. For the first time, he bore witness to the fruits of his labor, a sight that faninated him.

He calmed himself down, settling down the excitement.

A playful smirk unfolded on Osric's face, his eyes shimmering with anticipation, "Finally, now the path to refining begins for me."