CHAPTER 8: Forging the Foundation
The gravel beneath Krishak's tiny feet dug into his skin, but his posture did not waver.
Across the stone courtyard, Veer watched his three-year-old son with an expression that shifted from standard fatherly pride to absolute, unadulterated bewilderment. The boy had been holding a perfect iron horse stance for over an hour. Sweat beaded on Krishak's brow, but his breathing remained as steady and rhythmic as a ticking clock.
To Veer, it looked like a display of miraculous, innate physical talent—the hallmark of a born Martial Warrior.
But internally, Krishak was walking a razor's edge between ascension and total molecular annihilation.
Deep within the dark theater of his soul, the stolen Origin Energy of a destroyed universe did not sit peacefully. It was a swirling, tempestuous maelstrom of raw, blinding creation—a force so cataclysmic that even in his previous life as a peak Space-Time Realm master, a mere touch of its unrefined essence would have vaporized his immortal flesh.
The only reason he wasn't currently a microscopic smear of ash on the courtyard floor was the sheer, mathematical perfection of the two techniques he had spent two million years deducing.
The Primordial Origin Art acted as an absolute cage. It compressed the volatile universe-ash into a microscopic, gravity-sealed singularity at the absolute center of his spirit. It was a lockdown so severe that not a single wisp of its true power could leak out on its own.
Now, it was time to activate the second gear: the Universe Origin Body Art.
Shave, Krishak commanded silently.
Interfacing with the rigid, locked-down gravitational laws of Earth, Krishak used the planet's dense spatial friction as a cosmic file. He manipulated the cage of the Primordial Origin Art to let a fraction of a single atom of that compressed Origin energy touch the friction grid.
BOOM.
An internal detonation rocked his spiritual pathways. The microscopic fragment of Origin energy didn't flow like blood; it exploded into life like a miniature supernova, threatening to rupture his tiny, human meridians.
Instantly, Krishak directed the crushing, absolute gravity of Earth to clamp down on the explosion. It was a brutal, agonizing process of push and pull. Earth's compressed laws acted as the anvil, the Universe Origin Body Art acted as the hammer, and the tiny spark of raw Origin energy was the metal being forged.
Under this terrifying internal friction, Krishak's cells were ground down and remade at a quantum level. The sluggish, mutated Qi of Earth's atmosphere was instantly sucked into the vacuum of this creation process, acting as a buffer so his human veins wouldn't melt.
Every second he held the stance, his bones were being injected with the dense, unbreakable structural reality of a universe core. He was still physically in the Martial Apprentice realm, but the density of his muscle fibers was quickly becoming a statistical anomaly. If a standard Earth Awakener tried to read his power level right now, their equipment would likely glitch out, unable to comprehend a Martial Apprentice who carried the weight of a mountain.
"Alright, Krishak! Snap out of it!" Veer's booming voice shattered his internal focus.
Veer stepped forward, his face pale with a sudden, protective panic. He had noticed that the heavy grey stone slabs beneath Krishak's tiny feet had begun to form micro-fractures, spider-webbing outward from his heels. The air around the toddler was warping, creating a localized heat shimmer that had nothing to do with the weather.
The moment Veer's hand clamped onto his shoulder, Krishak instantly sealed the cage. The internal supernova vanished, leaving behind a profound, bone-deep ache that made his small limbs tremble.
He opened his eyes, a thin stream of scalding white vapor escaping his lips as he looked up at his father.
"That is... more than enough for your first day," Veer breathed, scooping Krishak up into his massive arms. His hands were shaking slightly. As a high-tier Hunter who had fought terrifying mutated beasts, his instincts were screaming at him that the little boy in his arms was structurally heavier than a tank. "You ran for forty minutes and held a weighted stance for an hour. Your body is like iron, son, but we cannot rush the foundation. If your mother sees these cracked stones, she'll think I used a gravity spell on you."
"I am sorry, Father," Krishak said, his voice returning to its soft, innocent, three-year-old pitch. "I simply forgot the time."
"Forgot the time..." Veer muttered, shaking his head with a bewildered laugh as he carried him back toward the mansion. "You truly are a monster talent. When you reach the age for the global Awakening ceremony, the entire planet is going to shake."
Krishak rested his small head against his father's broad shoulder, staring back at the cracked stones of the courtyard.
Let them think it is talent, he thought against the quiet backdrop of his mind.
He had successfully refined a fraction of an atom of Origin energy. The pain had been excruciating, a torment that would have shattered the sanity of any ordinary mortal soul, but the results were undeniable. His human vessel was adapting. He was building a body capable of bypassing the Early Saint ceiling of this isolated planet without ever triggering the spatial collapse that would destroy his home.
As they stepped through the back door, the comforting scent of baked bread and roasted vanilla drifted from the kitchen.
"Bwo-bwo!"
A high-pitched squeak echoed from the hallway. Luna came stumbling around the corner, her small hands catching the doorframe to steady herself before she locked her bright eyes onto Krishak. She flashed a triumphant, toothy grin and took two uneven, independent steps forward without falling.
The heavy, ancient stoicism in Krishak's eyes melted away in an instant. He slid down from Veer's arms, his aching, newly-forged muscles moving with effortless grace as he knelt on the floor, opening his arms wide.
"Look at you, Luna," Krishak murmured, a genuine, radiant smile breaking across his face as his little sister tumbled safely into his chest, giggling warmly. "You're walking beautifully."
The cosmic ladder, the dangerous path of the Origin arts, and the restrictions of a isolated world—none of it mattered in this hallway. He had survived the fire of creation once again, and his reward was right here, safe in his arms.