With this, the first thing he did was rest quietly in his bed until daylight and then he got up.
The morning light filtered softly through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow over the modest chamber. Grievous lay still for a moment, feeling the calm after a restless night's anticipation.
The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of dew and woodsmoke from the nearby estate. Outside, the world was waking up slowly.
He went to the butler and ordered him to prepare spiritual water and a wooden bathtub.
His voice was calm but carried an unshakable authority. The butler, a stoic man with years of loyal service, nodded without hesitation.
He moved swiftly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the polished floor. There was a sense of practiced reverence in his actions.
Very quickly, the servant did what his master ordered him to do, brought everything he asked for, put it in one of the unused rooms, and left.
The wooden bathtub, crafted from ancient cedar known for its purity, sat in the center of the empty room. The spiritual water shimmered faintly under the light, its surface calm and undisturbed. The silence of the space was almost sacred, a perfect sanctuary for the transformation Grievous was about to undergo.
Grievous began to take out all his magical fruits and quietly put them in the bathtub.
Each fruit was unlike any ordinary produce, glowing faintly with a mysterious energy. They floated gently in the water, their colors shifting subtly, emerald greens, deep purples, and fiery reds blending into a mesmerizing palette. The air around them thrummed softly with latent power, the fruits' energy seeping into the water and beginning their silent alchemy.
He quietly took off his clothes and went into the water mixed with many shapes of things resembling strange fruits.
The water enveloped him like a living embrace, cool yet electrifying. His skin tingled with the contact, every nerve ending awakening to the subtle currents of energy flowing through the bath. The room was still except for the gentle ripple of water and his steady breath, measured and deep.
Grievous closed his eyes and concentrated deeply as he began to implement the training technique of that method and began to extract the enormous amount of spiritual energy that was coming out of things through the simple spiritual waters.
The technique was ancient, passed down through a lineage of masters who had long since vanished into myth.
It required utter focus, a harmony between mind, body, and spirit. He felt the energy pulse beneath his skin, a living force that sought to merge with his own essence. It was like drinking from a well of raw power, each drop invigorating and reshaping him from within.
He felt a very pleasant feeling, as if his entire body was filled with energy and a destructive power that nothing could stand against.
A warmth spread through him, radiating from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was not just strength but a fierce vitality that made his muscles hum with readiness.
His heart beat with renewed purpose, steady and strong, as if it had been reborn. The sensation was intoxicating.
After about four hours, all the fruit that was in the water disappeared, the color of the water darkened, and a dirty odour came out of the entire room.
The transformation left a residue, a mark of the toxins and impurities expelled from his body. The air thickened with a pungent scent. Yet Grievous welcomed it, it was proof of the process's success, a sign that the old was being purged to make way for the new.
Grievous opened his eyes wide as those blood-red pupils flashed and said as he rose from the water, "late first rank. Now we have reached the problem of breaking through to the next rank."
The dirty smell assaulted his nose and he said, "It must be the toxins filling the body that have accumulated due to food, drink, etc."
He left the room and called one of the servants and ordered him to take that bathtub and bring another clean one.
The servant obeyed without a word, his movements precise and efficient. Grievous watched him go, feeling the weight of his own progress settle in his bones. This was only the beginning, the path ahead was fraught with challenges, but the thrill of advancement spurred him onward.
Grievous closed his hand as he felt his body strength multiply several times as the sound of air pressure quickly came out of his fist.
The crackling sound echoed faintly in the empty hallway, sharp and clear. His fist clenched tighter, veins bulging with newfound vigor. The sensation was exhilarating.
"Using the halberd will be easier now," he said as he smiled slightly.
Grievous sensed his spiritual energy that was raging inside the Shen Basin, and its quantity had increased greatly thanks to what he had done at Edmund's some time ago.
The Shen Basin was a sacred place, a wellspring of spiritual power nestled deep within the human existence. Its energy flowed like a river beneath the earth.
A feeling of euphoria assailed him as his strength and life expectancy increased.
He stood still for a moment, breathing deeply. The room seemed to pulse with his presence, the very air alive with possibility. His mind raced with plans and visions, each more ambitious than the last.
A person in the first early rank has an expected life span of about 150 years, followed by the middle rank with 175 years and then the late with 200 years.
That simply meant to Grievous that if he stayed hidden and got more powerful, there would be no risk of him dying of old age.
The years double after reaching the second rank, and so on.
The simplest example of that was Kaede, as her approximate age was about 350 years, and if she took care of her health and did not go on to do suicidal things, it would not be difficult for her to live twice that long.
Grievous was excited as he felt that he would never die again with that feeling of weakness.
He despised the weakness and helplessness that came with age.
He despised the feeling of being trapped in a worthless body.
For so long, he had carried the weight of fragility like a chain around his soul.
Now, that chain was breaking.
He could almost taste the freedom, sharp and sweet, like the first breath of spring after a long winter.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the pulse of power thrumming beneath his skin.
'This is only the beginning,' he thought, 'but it is the first step toward becoming unstoppable.'
Outside, the wind stirred the trees, whispering secrets of the world beyond.
Grievous smiled to himself, a quiet promise echoing in his heart.
"I will not be weak!"
---
One of the servants quietly brought another bathtub filled with steaming clean water. Grievous sank into it, the heat wrapping around his aching muscles like a balm. The water lapped gently at his skin, soothing the soreness that lingered from his recent exertions.
He closed his eyes and felt the warmth seep deeper, knitting his body together. His limbs felt stronger, more solid beneath the surface. He imagined his muscles swelling, fibers thickening, the faintest pulse of new power beating beneath his skin.
After a long moment, he rose from the tub, water cascading down his form.
His body felt different, lighter, yet more capable. A subtle firmness had taken root in his arms and shoulders, as if the water had coaxed strength out of him.
He dressed in his usual clothes with methodical care. The fabric felt comfortable against his skin, familiar and grounding. Picking up his Cane, he straightened his back and left the room without hesitation.
His steps echoed softly down the corridor as he headed directly to one of the noble family's training grounds.
The air was cool, tinged with the scent of sharpened steel and fresh earth.
The arena was simple yet purposeful. Training dummies stood in silent rows, battered but resilient. Swords and spears leaned against a rough wooden rack, their edges gleaming faintly in the afternoon light.
Grievous did not reach for the common weapons. Instead, he took out his halberd, the familiar weight settling in his hands like an extension of his will. He moved with more agility than before, spinning the weapon through the air as if it were alive.
The halberd sliced through the space, spinning like a propeller, thrusting forward and striking with precision. He pulled it back in calculated arcs, feeling every movement resonate through his muscles.
With each strike, the training dummies shattered, splinters flying. The sound of wood breaking echoed sharply, a satisfying proof of his growing power. He felt the majesty of the weapon coursing through him, an ancient force awakened in his grip.
Suddenly, the halberd vanished from his hand as he stopped moving. He bent down, picked up his Cane, and sighed softly.
"Now the biggest problem is to break through to the next rank," he said quietly, eyes distant.
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "To get through, I must do the same as the first time, but with more force. I must break the Shen Basin itself. From that shattering, I must control my spiritual energy with my will and create a stronger Shen Basin. That will cause my spiritual energy to rise to the next rank."
He shifted his weight onto the Cane and began moving toward his room. The corridors felt narrower, the walls closing in as the weight of his task pressed on him.
"But the biggest dilemma that makes this difficult," he added, voice low, "is that if the Will is preoccupied and attention is lost, even by something simple, there is a risk of losing all magical powers and even spiritual energy from the soul."
He stopped briefly, eyes flickering with a mix of determination and caution. "Therefore, I need someone to protect me during that operation. That is what makes many people unable to break through to the next major rank."
Grievous's lips curved into a faint smile. "Fortunately for me, I have Kaede, who is strong enough to protect me in that process. All I need now is psychological preparation, which should take between six months to a year. But if I use Edmund's luck, it may take less."
Instead of returning to his own room, he veered toward Edmund's chamber. The hallway was quieter here, the soft light of late afternoon filtering through stained glass windows.
He knocked gently on the door. It opened almost immediately, and Edmund's face appeared, bright and innocent.
"It is dad!" Edmund exclaimed happily.
Grievous smiled. "It seems you've been reading lately," he said, lifting Edmund effortlessly over his shoulder.
He carried the boy into the room and set him down on a chair. His gaze landed on a book lying open on the bed.
Edmund's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Yes, I was reading a novel called The Prince of Frenerasil."
Grievous settled on the bed beside the book and asked, "What was that novel about?"
Edmund's smile widened. "It's about Prince Zerosa, who inherits the rule from his deceased father and tries to improve the kingdom."
Grievous nodded, intrigued. "Oh, how did he do that?"
Edmund's face grew animated, eager to share. "He first began to focus on education and health. He made education compulsory for everyone, even the common people, and built government hospitals that charged only small fees."
"And then?" Grievous prompted.
"He started developing natural tourist areas to increase the annual income of the state. That's what he has achieved so far," Edmund said proudly.
Grievous hummed thoughtfully, staring at the floor.
'Seems like he was a good king who truly cared about his country,' he thought. 'Perhaps if I had been like this, my country would have become better. But the political arenas changed me. My original goals were swallowed by self-greed.'
He clenched his jaw. 'It is truly a tragedy, but I tried to change in the end, which caused what happened to me next. My trust was misplaced. It was a mistake I should never repeat.'
He looked at Edmund, the boy's bright eyes full of hope and innocence.
'It will not help to regret what has already happened, as the past has already been done. One must learn from mistakes and be careful in the present and future.'
Grievous reached out and ruffled Edmund's hair gently. "You have a good mind, Edmund. Keep reading."
Edmund beamed. "I will, Father."
Grievous stood, feeling a quiet resolve settle over him. The future was uncertain, but it was his to shape.
And he would shape it with all the strength he could muster.