Fates Parallel Chapter 193 - Metamorphosis (Patreon)

After a thorough scrubbing and a change of clothes, Lee Narae was presentable once more, and Jia was able to admire the unique awakening her little sister had undergone. Rather than a mage’s aura, Narae had developed the same sort of proto-domain that Jia had seen on other unified cultivators, with mana flowing freely between her aura and her body. The range of her aura was small, but impressive for one who’d only just awakened, and the effects on her body were already remarkable. Narae’s bright blonde hair had grown out several inches, and her once-emaciated frame had filled out into something more healthy-looking for a little girl her age. She practically buzzed with hyperactive energy—which Jia remembered from her own ki awakening, though that had been followed by a precipitous crash due to the exhaustion of running herself ragged for an entire day.

Jia, Eui, and Lee Jung sat just outside the wagon with Narae while Rika kept watch over Ja Yun’s awakening inside. Eui and Jung fussed over Narae’s hair as the little girl fidgeted awkwardly under Jia’s gaze.

“W-what’s wrong? Did I mess up? What’s that look mean?”

Jia sighed and shrugged.

“I don’t think so, but I also have no idea what you did. You were supposed to be opening a path to your dantian to awaken your qi, so how did you end up not only awakening but unifying the other disciplines at the same time?”

Narae tried to shrug, earning herself a swat from Eui—who was trying to cut her hair more evenly.

“Ow! Sorry! Um, I was doing what you said and trying to feel the magic in the air. Then I noticed something weird when Auntie Yun started meditating so I tried to copy it. It didn’t work, but almost did so I tried to do it better and then it just sort of went poof and I figured it out.”

Jia stared blankly at Narae, and Eui’s hands stopped moving with the scissors as she gave the child a similar look. Lee Jung glanced between the two of them, worried.

“What—what does that mean? Is she okay?”

Eui cleared her throat and scratched a cheek.

“Jung, I think your kid is a fucking genius.”

Lee Jung smacked Eui in the shoulder.

“Watch your language around my child!”

Narae giggled.

“Mom, I already know the word ‘fuck.’”

That earned her a smack of her own, her mother frowning down at her mightily.

“That doesn’t mean you have permission to be vulgar, young lady!”

“S-sorry...”

Rika took that moment to appear from within the wagon, hopping down to the ground with a rueful smile.

“Miss Lee, since I know these two are too modest to do it themselves, let me impress on you the gravity of what they just said. The academy, where they learned cultivation, was a collection of extremely talented people from all over the continent. In that gathering of geniuses, they were nearly peerless talents—only Dae and Lady Hayakawa could really offer them any competition. And they just said your kid is a genius.”

Lee Jung’s mouth hung open in shock while Narae rocked back and forth, beaming with pride.

“Ehehe! So I’m even better than big sis?”

Jia flicked the smug little girl in the forehead gently.

“Don’t let yourself get arrogant. No matter how talented you are, you won’t get anywhere without working hard. Immortals live for a long time, and those who put in the time and the effort will always surpass talented but lazy little girls who waste their potential.”

Narae nodded seriously, suitably chastised.

“I won’t let you down!”

Jia smiled and ruffled Narae’s hair, earning her a death glare from Eui—who had been about to resume her efforts to neaten it.

“I know you won’t!”

Rika cleared her throat, interrupted the impromptu family bonding session.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I actually came out here to let you know that I think Ja Yun’s almost finished.”

Jia looked up at her curiously.

“How do you know?”

Rika sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Well...about that...”

—-

Ja Yun was in excruciating pain. What an idiot she had been, thinking that this would be a reprieve from the endless, exhausting workouts. At least those came with the added benefit of cute girls pushing her on with delightfully harsh motivations—this was just pain. She had to give credit, though—Takeda Rika was a very good teacher. The theory that she’d come up with—along with Lee Jia and An Eui—was sound, and the technique that they’d developed over the course of just a few hours worked perfectly. In fact, it worked too well.

It had taken Ja Yun quite a while to work out the intricacies of it herself, but she hadn’t been top of her classes in the Songdo College for nothing. The benefit of having no friends was that it left her plenty of time for study and meditation, and she’d always had a good head for spellcraft—if nothing else. Once she’d figured out the method, the rest came naturally—and now she couldn’t possibly stop even if she wanted to.

And oh, did she want to. Her aura—the foundation of her power that she’d been building up for over twenty five years—was crumbling. She’d thought that it would be as simple as just borrowing a bit of her foundation to jump-start the other disciplines, but both Ja Yun and her tutors had failed to consider the implication of using the natural channels between the body, mind, and soul for such a purpose.

As they had hoped, the foundational mana—or essence, as Yun’s tutors insisted on calling it—had been able to find those channels and push through them to initiate cultivation in her heart and dantian. The problem was that those channels, once opened, could apparently not be closed again. Ja Yun’s rice was cooked and already smoking, ready to be set aflame. At this rate, so was she. By opening those channels, the essence in Ja Yun’s aura sought to balance itself out with the rest of her metaphysical self.

The unbalance was too much, though. Twenty five years of mental cultivation, condensed into—without bragging—an aura powerful enough to make it into the top percentile of college graduates was too much, too fast. Ja Yun barely knew the first thing about qi condensation, or infusing ki into her flesh! It was all she could do to hold the energy back and keep it from ripping her apart, much less carefully cultivate it into two new foundations. Worse, she knew that the essence in her aura—even split three ways—was an order of magnitude greater than that of a first stage cultivator. Unless she found some way to put a stop to this, she was going to have to break through to the second stage in both of her new disciplines, right here, right now. She wasn’t even close to being prepared for that.

Of course, the simplest answer would be to just let go of the excess. Leave behind the twenty years of effort and just start over again from the beginning. As if she could do that! Never mind the fact that being a decent warmage was her only redeeming feature, Ja Yun was technically still a Goryeon soldier on active duty. She wasn’t entirely certain how her new position in Princess Seong Eunae’s private unit of irregulars fit into the whole military structure thing, but she was fairly certain that dumping her combat potential was a bad idea! So she sat and meditated—sweating and straining as she tried desperately to focus through the pain and ease the essence flooding through her into some semblance of a proper foundation.

Eventually, she reached a stalemate. Her dantian was full to bursting with vaguely gaseous qi, and without learning to condense it any more would surely rupture her meridians. Her body was likewise overflowing with power, threatening to tear open blood vessels if she didn’t find some other way to store the ki thrumming through her body. Her aura had shrunk down, barely able to sustain itself at the third stage any longer, and still the pressure of it bore down against her soul in a fruitless attempt to achieve equilibrium. It was no longer a question of whether Ja Yun would be dropping down a stage, but rather how far. Either she figured out how to break through to the second stage here and now—with her shaky foundations formed from half-learned preparatory lessons—or she released her desperate hold on everything she’d spent her life working for, and went all the way back down to the first stage.

Just when Ja Yun felt ready to give up, she felt a presence deep within her. It was her, but not her. Strong and courageous and powerful in all the ways that she wasn’t. It spoke to her, not in words, but ideas.

Coward. Ingrate. Fool.

Ah, it knew her well.

Moron. Deviant. Weakling.

Ja Yun was torn between blushing and crying—this presence knew all the right things to say. But this wasn’t the time for that! It was trying to tell her something, but she had to focus to make sense of the confusing images it projected into her mind.

Peace. An end to struggles. Relaxation.

“Stop fighting!”

That last part was definitely words—and not just from within, either. Someone was calling to her—shouting her name. Was it really that easy? If she stopped fighting, she’d be torn apart by her own essence! Was this strange presence trying to get her killed?! But she couldn’t keep this up forever, either, and she felt as though she could trust that feeling inside of her—like it was a forgotten part of herself.

Preparing for the worst, Ja Yun let herself relax without either letting go of her aura or trying to break through with her other disciplines. The pain subsided in an instant, replaced by a soothing feeling of power coursing through her entire being. The essence in her aura began to vanish, but not into the air, and not into her new foundation either. Instead, it retreated deeper within her, to some inaccessible part of her that she hadn’t known existed—along with that disembodied presence.

With resignation, Ja Yun felt her aura recede, deflating like a balloon as its power fell all the way back to the peak of the first stage. The mana wasn’t wasted—she knew that it was still part of her—but her combat potential had still dropped dramatically. Some soldier she was now—but she’d already speared her military career. This was just the finishing blow. She could only pray that whatever future she had under Seong Eunae would be enough to make up for it. Assuming she wasn’t just immediately discarded for being as worthless as she was. Maybe Lee Jia and An Eui would take pity on her? They seemed to have a habit of picking up and adopting people.

When the roiling storm of essence within her soul finally calmed down, Ja Yun took a deep breath—and immediately regretted it—what was that smell!? She coughed and sputtered, wiping a disgusting sludge off of herself before realizing to her dismay that some of it was in her mouth. When she’d finally composed herself enough to take stock of her surroundings, Ja Yun found herself being towered over by three figures—an impressive feat considering that two of them were so tiny.

An Eui’s cold gaze sent a shiver down Ja Yun’s spine—if only she wasn’t spoken for. Takeda Rika had a gentler expression, but had no less profound an effect on Ja Yun. Rika pushed all the right buttons—she was tall, strong, well-toned—Ja Yun had seen the definition on her arms and legs during training, and could only dream of how nice her abs or back must be. But the strangest impression came from Lee Jia. As Ja Yun looked up at the diminutive girl with the striking features, there was a strangely familiar feeling of recognition that came from the newly-discovered hidden depth of Ja Yun’s soul.

Kin.