Azrakar returned to the Vileth Archives under the cover of a moonless night. His body was screaming for rest, but his mind was on fire. He had the fuel. He had the stabilizer.
He didn't go to his bed. He went directly to his hidden table at the back of the library.
He took the Moon-Vine and crushed it into a bowl, mixing it with the violet Star-Silt. He added a few drops of his own blood—a catalyst of "Intent"—and began the final refinement.
The mixture turned into a thick, shimmering paste. It smelled of ozone and ancient earth.
"Tonight," Azrakar whispered. "I bridge the gap."
He swallowed the paste.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Then, his entire world exploded into color.
The Trinity Circuit within him, which had been humming like a quiet engine, suddenly roared to life. The Moon-Vine acted as a lubricant, allowing the Qi, Mana, and Aura to move past each other without the violent friction of before.
They began to spin.
In his Dantian, the Qi formed a golden ring.
In his heart, the Mana formed a blue ring.
In his veins, the Aura formed a crimson ring.
Then, he forced them to overlap.
The pain was beyond anything he had felt in this life. It felt as though his soul was being pulled through a needle's eye. His skin began to glow—a chaotic, flickering strobe of gold, blue, and red.
Hold it together, he commanded himself, his teeth gritting so hard they bled. Do not let the energies leak!
He used his 1,000 years of willpower to act as a cage. He clamped down on the energies, forcing them into a single, unified point at the center of his chest—the Trinity Origin Core.
CRACK.
An audible sound echoed through the silent Archive, like a mountain splitting in two.
The light vanished. The pain evaporated.
Azrakar sat in the darkness, gasping for air. But something was different. The weight of his body felt... right. For the first time since his reincarnation, he didn't feel like a passenger in a child's frame. He felt like the master of it.
He reached out a hand. He didn't focus on Qi, or Aura, or Mana. He simply focused on Power.
A small spark of white light appeared above his palm. It wasn't hot like fire or cold like ice. It was "Pure." It was the base energy of the universe, before it was filtered into the three paths.
He had achieved the First Level of the Trinity Origin: The Primal Spark.
He was still, by the world's standards, a "Bronze" rank. His raw energy capacity was small. But the quality of his energy was now leagues above even the "Silver" rank geniuses like Kaelen.
Azrakar stood up. He felt his muscles knitting together, his bones becoming denser. He looked at his reflection in a polished shield hanging on the wall. His eyes were no longer just black; there was a faint, shimmering ring of white around the pupils.
"Ten chapters of my life are written," he murmured, his voice sounding slightly deeper, more resonant. "And the world still thinks I am a pebble."
He looked toward the window, where the first light of dawn was beginning to touch the horizon.
"Let the sun rise," Azrakar said, a cold, predatory smile touching his lips. "It has no idea how quickly the shadows are growing."