He stared at the ground and said with a smile, "These things are worth close to 987 million pounds. It's crazy, it's absolutely crazy."
The sheer magnitude of that number sent a thrill coursing through him. Almost a billion pounds in materials, enough to fuel his ambitions for years to come. His mind raced, picturing the possibilities. With this, reaching the fourth late rank would no longer be a distant dream but an inevitable reality.
The weight of the materials in his hands felt like a tangible promise.
Each piece shimmered faintly, imbued with latent power that hummed against his skin. The glow from the crystals, the forged metals, the rare herbs, all of it combined into a fortune beyond reckoning. Yet, it was not the money that excited him most. It was what the materials represented: a key to unlocking new depths of strength.
"It's a really crazy ability even though I don't even understand it," the old fox laughed a long laugh and then said as he pulled all the materials into his space ring.
His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and amusement. How strange that such fortune should fall into his hands by a stroke of luck.
He chuckled again, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. The space ring swallowed the treasure effortlessly, folding it away into a private pocket of reality.
After laughing for a while as he found luck in misfortune, he said as he sat down in his chair, "I haven't even lost the sight in that eye, but I can do it with my own will. This is madness."
Now, he realized, the true power was not just in what he could see but in what he could command. The ability to harness his will so precisely, to bend reality with mere intention, was a revelation. Madness, perhaps, but a thrilling kind.
"It seems like my luck went up a lot when I did that. I should move on to the next rank. If it's that easy, jumping through the major ranks won't be a big problem now."
He tapped his fingers on the armrest, already planning the next steps. The idea of advancing quickly through the ranks filled him with a strange confidence.
No longer bound by limitations, he could push forward, leapfrogging obstacles that had once seemed unreachable.
Grievous raised his hand and clapped slightly as he said, "It's time to do it!"
His voice was sharp, decisive. No hesitation remained. The moment had come to put theory into practice. He slipped into the shadows and moved to Edmund's room. The night was thick with silence, the kind that stretched and held its breath.
After taking him while he was out of his conscious mind, he put on his armor and mask and went to old Kaede.
The armor felt cold as it settled on his skin, the mask obscuring his face but sharpening his senses. Every movement was deliberate, calculated.
His pulse quickened, excitement mingling with the weight of responsibility. Approaching old Kaede's dwelling, he felt a surge of anticipation.
Through the shadows and as he moved the old man thought, 'Maybe this way I will have enough time to enter that place next time!'
The thought lingered in his mind like a promise. Time was a precious commodity, and having enough of it to explore the depths of his mind and power was invaluable. The path ahead was uncertain, but this step offered a glimpse of what might be possible.
It was true that jumping through the major ranks would take some time, but preparing for it would be the only thing required, as the rest will be carried by the resources he took in the medical baths.
He knew the process well, preparation was everything. The medical baths had fortified his body, replenished his energy reserves, and primed his spirit.
Now, only the final mental hurdle remained. The path was simple in theory, but fraught with unseen challenges.
It was simple for him as even jumping through the first three major ranks wouldn't take him even a year. But the problem was the ranks that follow, where the magician's fight with their inner demons begins.
Everyone has inner demons and the real question was: can the individual overcome them and emerge victorious?
The inner demons were intangible foes, shadows cast by doubt, fear, and past regrets. They lurked in the depths of the mind, waiting to ensnare the unprepared.
Many had fallen, consumed by their own darkness. The true test was not strength alone, but resilience of spirit.
As for Grievous, he knew very well that he had inner demons, but he did not know what they were or what their power was, as he had never faced them before.
That uncertainty was both a curse and a blessing. Ignorance shielded him from fear, but it also meant the battle ahead was a blank canvas—full of unknown terrors and potential triumphs. He steeled himself for the journey inward, knowing that the greatest fight would be within.
When he arrived at old Kaede's place, Grievous gave her a mental command to protect him.
The old woman nodded subtly, her eyes reflecting a spark of understanding. Her presence was a steadfast anchor in the storm of his ambitions. Trusting her to guard his physical form allowed him to focus entirely on the spiritual trial ahead.
And then Edmund sat next to him, on the ground, closed his eyes, approached the aura surrounding Edmund, and slowly began to shake his Shen Basin.
The air around them thickened, charged with a quiet energy. Grievous's fingers trembled slightly as he reached out, feeling the delicate balance of the Shen Basin. With each subtle shake, the energy within reacted, twitching and stirring like a living thing.
And with each shake, the Shen twitched. Until suddenly and with great force, the Basin collapsed, and the Shen began to slide through the soul, into the Palace of the Mind, and into the giant pillar.
The moment of collapse was like a thunderclap in his consciousness. The old structure gave way, and raw Shen flooded through veins unseen.
It poured into the grand Palace of the Mind, the vast, ethereal domain. The giant pillar, a towering nexus of power, shimmered as it absorbed the influx.
Slowly, Grievous began to transform his will into the casing of the new and strengthened Shen basin.
His mind sharpened, focusing all thoughts into a single point. The transformation was excruciating yet exhilarating. Every fiber of his being aligned to the task, forging the outer shell that would contain his renewed power. It was a delicate dance between control and surrender.
Grievous felt an ecstasy drowning his thoughts.
The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of energy that drowned out all doubts, all fears. His consciousness expanded and contracted with the rhythm of newfound strength. The ecstasy was both a reward and a herald of change.
The strength of his soul and body was increasing as he noticed that he was breaking through the second level, the early, then the middle, then the late, and the ecstasy began to subside and decrease until it stopped completely.
The ascent was swift, each level passed like stepping stones across a raging river. His soul blazed brighter, his body surged with power, and then, as the final barrier shattered, calm returned. The ecstasy receded, leaving clarity in its wake.
Grievous's eyes opened and his ruby eyes sparkled, as he smiled widely, showing off his pearly whites and those sharp fangs.
"How nice it feels!"
The power of the late second rank was truly different.
Grievous felt it surge through him like a torrent, a force beyond anything he had ever experienced before, even in the reckless vigor of his youth during his first life.
It was not merely strength, rather it was a profound awakening. The sensation was intoxicating, filling every fiber of his being with a clarity and vitality that bordered on ecstatic. A pleasant feeling without a doubt, but deeper, something akin to a spiritual rapture that hummed beneath the surface of his bones.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the energy dance along his nerves. Every movement he made was charged with a new intensity.
Grievous moved his limbs quietly but swiftly, noticing the rush and sharp sound of the air slicing past him as he shifted at his new, heightened speed.
The world seemed to slow, the details sharpening like a lens brought into focus. The subtle scent of moss on stone, the faint rustle of leaves in the evening breeze, even the distant cry of a bird, all became vivid.
He truly appreciated the true power of magicians now. Unlike the legends from his old world, where magic users were often depicted as frail or ethereal, here they possessed terrifying bodies, literal temples of strength carved by the will of their own souls.
Simply developing the rank, even if it was just a small step, strengthened both soul and body. The connection between the parts of existence was deepened, linked together by pure spiritual Shen.
It was a connection that hummed like a web of invisible threads, binding the physical, mental, and spiritual planes into one harmonious whole.
Shen was the metaphysical energy of the world, the unseen current flowing beneath all things.
Every creature had Shen, herbs, stones, beasts, even the faintest flicker of life in the smallest insect. Every thing held open the possibility of growth, evolution, and transcendence, as long as it had the courage to endure the pain of transformation.
There were monsters, forged from the evolution of animals and herbs, their forms twisted by instinctive empowerment rather than conscious will.
The Severids, Mizotos, Frandakits, and Fishtons had all risen through the ranks of existence. Yet, their power was undeniable, a testament to the raw force of nature's will.
Other creatures possessed the same nine levels of magical ranks. Sentient beings like humans were undoubtedly stronger, but anomalies existed, some evolved beyond simple intelligence, their development overreaching toward something new, something unpredictable.
Grievous's eyes flicked to Old Kaede and young Edmund. They sat motionless, their gazes vacant and empty of life. They were neither dead nor unconscious, but their minds had been commanded into silence. Grievous had manipulated their thoughts, halting the natural flow of their consciousness to serve his purpose. It was a cold action, but necessary.
Raising his hand to his chin, he spoke softly to himself, "I can quickly reach the third rank now, but that will slow me down significantly at that level."
He paused, feeling the weight of the truth settle in his chest. "The fourth rank is difficult to break through because the Shen Basin itself must be completely destroyed and rebuilt. But with it comes the fight against inner demons. Without adequate preparation, even I will not survive."
The thought made his chest tighten. Grievous understood himself to a fair degree, but his inner demons were a dark territory, uncharted and dangerous. Before entering the political halls, he had lived among ordinary people for many years. That life had left its mark on his soul, a deep imprint he wished he could erase. Even if he refused to admit it, the truth lingered stubbornly beneath his carefully crafted exterior.
He remembered the faces, the laughter, the betrayals, and the small joys. All of it was buried beneath layers of ambition and power, but it was still there, waiting.
Grievous ran a hand through his hair, the strands cool beneath his fingers. He had spent the last twenty years of his first life immersed in reflection, dissecting his past actions with a ruthless honesty. And he found something unsettling: even if time were to bring him back again, he would choose the same path.
It was not a matter of pride, but of necessity.
He realized that the ecstasy from power was a fleeting pleasure, a temporary high that faded like morning mist under the sun. But power itself, true power, was something he could master. If he had enough strength, there would be no threat to his control. He would be conscious, aware, and not driven by momentary intoxication.
In that moment, Grievous understood that power was not just a tool or a weapon. It was a mirror, reflecting the deepest parts of the soul. To wield it meant to confront oneself, to face the shadows lurking within.
He looked out the window of the small room of Kaede, at the fading light of dusk, the sky painted in hues of crimson and gold. The city below bustled with life, unaware of the struggles that raged in the hearts of men like him.
But there was no answer yet.
Instead, Grievous closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of Shen flowing through him, steady and strong. The path ahead was long, fraught with peril and sacrifice, but he was ready.
For the first time in a long time, he felt a calm determination settle over him.
The journey to the third rank was only the beginning. Beyond it lay trials that would test his very soul.
And Grievous was prepared to face them all.