Chapter 41 - Intermission, Self Improvement

  Another day of training.

  I'm watching over the girls as they warm up on the obstacle course under the morning sun. The military-style running course is complete with walls to climb, bars to swing from, and trenches to crawl through. It would provide comprehensive full-body training. It's still essential for maintaining their physical conditioning, but now it serves mainly as a warm-up before we get to the real work: martial arts training.

  The girls complete their laps and gather in the training area, breathing hard but ready. Good. Consistent effort is paying off.

  "Alright, pair up. Same as yesterday. Basic forms, slow and controlled."

  Isabella and Celestine move together, facing each other in fighting stances. They're working on Fist Style, the name I use for boxing in this world. Isabella throws a jab, which Celestine deflects with a hand block. A straight punch follows, and Celestine sways her upper body back, avoiding it cleanly. There are also hooks and uppercuts. Each attack met with defensive maneuvers: peek-a-boo guards, swaying, and counter-positioning.

  Isabella's tendency toward aggression is obvious. She wants to press forward, overwhelm her opponent. It's not wrong, but it needs refinement.

  Celestine, on the other hand, defaults to defense. It makes sense as she is more familiar with the paladin style martial art which is more about protecting and enduring. She's learning to go on the offense now, but her instinct is still to guard first.

  From my experience teaching the orphans and now the girls, I keep learning how to be a better teacher. It boils down to one principle: polish their strength, cover their weakness. Isabella is a lance, I need to hone her point and teach her when to thrust. Celestine is a shield, I need to temper her, and show her how the best defense can become an offense. The responsibility is immense. A slight mistake in the forging, and I could create a broken weapon instead of a masterpiece.

  "Isabella, slow down. This isn't a real fight. Focus on form, not speed."

  "Celestine, don't just defend. When you see an opening, take it. Counter-punch. Make her pay for overextending."

  Both nod and adjust.

  Nearby, Katherine and Kimberly are practicing Leg Style, a kicking-focused martial art based on Tae Kwon Do. Katherine throws a roundhouse kick that Kimberly checks with her shin. A front kick follows, which Kimberly redirects by pivoting her leg outward. They move through the forms with the synchronized precision that only twins can achieve, each knowing instinctively where the other will be.

  And then there's Moon and Night, working on Break-Dance Style, my adaptation of Capoeira. One kicks high while the other ducks low, then they reverse. It's fluid, acrobatic, almost playful. Moon is grinning as she spins into a low sweep, and Night hops over it with a laugh.

  For them, it feels like play-fighting, like how kittens tumble and wrestle with each other. The style suits their natural agility perfectly.

  "Good! Keep that flow. Moon, lower your hips more on that kick to steady your balance. Night, stay loose. Don't tense up."

  They adjust without missing a beat.

  I watch for a while longer, making corrections here and there. None of them are using mana reinforcement yet as it would be too dangerous at this stage. The basics need to be ingrained in muscle memory first. Once they can move instinctively, then we add speed and power through mana.

  "Keep at it," I call out. "I'll be doing paperwork on the side if you need anything."

  A chorus of acknowledgments follows me as I retreat to my open workspace at the field's edge. It is a simple setup with a parasol, table, and chair. Jane had it prepared for me after I complained about the sun giving me headaches while I tried to review documents outdoors.

  I settled into the chair and let out a sigh as the shade relieved me from the heat. With the girls’ training voice as background noise, I spread out the latest reports from my various business ventures.

  And immediately, I start grumbling.

  There are too many harassment attempts aimed at my businesses lately. Nothing catastrophic, thank the gods, but the sheer volume is annoying.

  Arguments at the hunter guild. Workers being harassed on the street. Attempts to bribe my people into giving up trade secrets.

  My businesses are successful. No, let me rephrase it again, my businesses are very successful. It's not weird that people are starting to get envious. That's just human nature.

  When people get envious, they do one of two things: they either improve themselves by copying, learning, and adapting... or they try to bring down the target of their envy instead.

  Unfortunately, many choose the latter option.

  The harassment mostly targets the hunter guild. Not surprising as it's my most visible operation. But the complaints are getting creative. Accusations of "malicious dumping" because meat prices have crashed. Claims that I'm "disrupting the market" and "destroying honest businesses."

  It's true that meat prices have plummeted since my hunters started culling monsters from Tusk Plains. Leather and bone prices have also dropped, though not as drastically because those still have value in the weapons and armor industries.

  But that's not my fault. I'm just... efficient.

  The hunter guild isn't even profit-oriented. Most of the registered hunters work on my subjugation operations, not outside contracts. I'm deliberately avoiding taking too many quests from external clients in this early stage. Too much risk of malicious actors using the guild to hurt or manipulate hunters.

  Instead, I focus on public service missions. Cleaning the city's drainage ditches for young hunters. Goblin and pest culling for overall safety. The rewards come from my own pocket.

  Because of this, I've become popular with the commoners. Meat is cheap and plentiful now. People can afford to eat well. Trade with wandering merchants has increased, boosting the local economy.

  But the established meat suppliers? They hate me.

  Financially, although struggling, my business is still in the healthy range of green thanks to one item: beast cores. A concentrated form of mana which can be found inside a monster that this world can’t get enough of because of its many uses. I also pay my hunters partly in meat to help my liquidity flow.

  It's an investment in the future. I'm building goodwill, training skilled hunters, and securing a labor force for larger operations down the road.

  Still, the harassment is getting tiresome.

  "At least the counter measures are progressing well," I mutter, scanning an encrypted report. "If this keeps up, I could lessen the number of troubles coming for me."

  Yes, just lessening the numbers. It’s not like I can solve something like this permanently. Not unless I have some godlike power to eliminate envy itself which is absurd and pointless. Better think about the thing that I can actually do instead.

  The counter measure I mentioned before is to create a network of informants embedded in my competitors' organizations. How? Simple. That is by following the phrase: ‘Money talks’. Many of those who start out trying to sabotage me end up working for me instead, feeding me information about the next plot before it can materialize. After all, many of those are just unwilling people that got forced either by wealth, safety, or stability related problems.

  For those doing minimal harassment, for example the ones just testing the waters or following orders from above, I make them an offer. Money, protection, better working conditions. Most accept. They become my eyes and ears in hostile camps.

  For those with genuinely nefarious intent, though? I won’t let the sleeping dogs lie. That’s not my style. So for them is a straight one way trip to the capital's jail. Let the kingdom's law handle them.

  Occasionally, some behind-the-scenes noble tries to pressure the bailiffs into releasing their subordinates. I don't fear it too much. I document everything meticulously, and I can demand heavier punishment for repeat offenders. The law is on my side as long as I play by its rules.

  I also try not to kill or seriously injure anyone who harasses me. Not out of mercy, neither I'm not a monster, but because doing so would cause more trouble. Dead bodies raise questions. Injured nobility creates feuds. And that's exactly what my enemies want: for me to overreact, to make a mistake, to give them legitimate cause to move against me.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  So I borrow the mantle of the kingdom instead. Let the law be my sword and shield. It's cleaner, more sustainable, and far more satisfying to watch my enemies convicted by their own crimes.

  I finish reviewing the last report and lean back in my chair, stretching. The sun has climbed to its apex, its nearly lunchtime.

  I watched the girls training again for some time and I figured that it would be enough for today.

  "Alright, everyone!" I called out. "Break for lunch and rest!"

  The girls gratefully drop their training stances and head toward the manor. I follow at a more leisurely pace, my mind still half on the business reports.

  A while later at lunch, Celestine makes a quip between bites. "There's not enough bread again. Maybe you need to start making bread out of meat instead of wheat."

  She's joking, of course, but the comment sparks an idea.

  Meatloaf.

  Not the Earth version exactly as I'd need ketchup or tomato sauce for that, and it is a mystery whether tomatoes exist here or not. But a literal loaf of bread made primarily from meat. Bind it with eggs if I can source enough, add some herbs for flavor, shape it like a loaf, and bake it.

  "That's not a bad idea, actually," I say aloud.

  Celestine blinks. "Wait, you're serious?"

  "Why not? Meat is cheap and plentiful. If I can make it taste good and hold together well, it could become a staple."

  "You're insane," Isabella mutters, though she looks intrigued.

  "Insanity and genius are close neighbors, Your Highness," I reply with a grin.

  After lunch, the girls moved on to their afternoon session: mana meditation. As they didn't need constant supervision for that, I finally slipped away to my underground training room. Me time, at last.

  The girls already had their lunch, after-training bath, and a short nap so they could focus better on their meditation. They are proper young ladies after all so it means that maintaining certain standards, even during intense training, is a must.

  Anyway, back to my secret training room. This is where I experiment not only with magic but also other things I’m interested in. So yeah, a secret, enchanted lab for mage to tinker about. Just to be clear, I don’t test dangerous magic spells here, I’ll do it outdoors instead. This place is more like a place for study and craft things. Also, a place to avoid prying eyes.

  Because today, I'm here to study fleshmancy.

  Leon was right to push me on this. I've been avoiding it out of fear and discomfort, but that's no excuse. If I want to master this power, if I want to make sure it can't be turned against me, I need to understand it fully.

  I take inventory of what I know so far:

  Flesh Pouch: A dimensional storage space connected to my shadow. I feel that it has around 1,000 cubic meters of space when I first got it, though it's grown slightly with daily training. I can store flesh-related materials here like meat, bone, blood, organs, skins, and hair.

  Devour: The method for ‘swallowing’ biomass from the outside world into the Flesh Pouch. The shadow-shark-bite technique I call "Amorphous" is just a lethal, theatrical variant of this inspired by my past life.

  Flesh Consume: Converts stored biomass into healing and mana. Fast, efficient, and slightly nauseating to think about too hard. Especially when I stored innards and organs in my flesh pouch.

  Appendage Attachment: Adds extra limbs like tentacles, arms, pincher, or whatever that can be counted as one anywhere my magic can reach. My current reach is limited to my own body or the immediate space of my shadow, just like the tentacle I manifested during the magic academy entrance test.

  Grotesque Enhancement: Adds layers of muscle or protective flesh to my body. Good for tanking hits or boosting physical strength temporarily.

  Flesh Golem: The one I haven't tried yet.

  I focus on that last one. In theory, it should let me summon autonomous constructs made of flesh. Like necromancy, but building it from scratch instead of reanimating corpses.

  I cast the spell.

  Nothing happens.

  I frown and try again. Still nothing.

  After a few more attempts, I realize the problem: I need to create the golem inside my Flesh Pouch first. The spell just controls and manifests something that already exists in storage.

  Interesting.

  I close my eyes and focus inward, directing my mana into the Flesh Pouch. I visualize something simple: a worm. Just a bundle of muscle wrapped in a protective flesh layer. No bones, no organs, no complexity.

  Slowly, painstakingly, I assemble it. Muscle fibers weaving together. A thin membrane of skin forming over it. When I feel the construct is complete, I cast Flesh Golem again.

  This time, something slithers out of my shadow.

  A pale, fleshy worm about a meter long wriggles on the floor, responding to my mental commands. I make it coil, uncoil, move forward, retreat. It's crude, simplistic, but it works.

  With a thought, I dismiss it back into the Flesh Pouch and sit down, mind racing.

  This is similar to how necromancers create abominations, by stitching bodies together to make something new. But fleshmancy feels... cleaner. More controlled. I'm not limited to replacing parts, I can build from scratch.

  What if I studied anatomy more deeply? What if I could create something truly functional? An army of disposable constructs? Creatures designed for specific tasks?

  My imagination runs wild. Xenomorphs. Zerg swarms. Biological weapons that could overwhelm any enemy through sheer numbers and adaptability.

  But then I stopped myself.

  No.

  Creating something like that in this world would be catastrophic. Even if I can control them perfectly at first, there's no guarantee they wouldn't evolve. Break free. Turn on me. On everyone.

  One mistake, one moment of lost control, and this world could be destroyed.

  I let out a long breath and shook my head. "Get a grip, Emilio. You're not building a doomsday weapon."

  Still, the potential is there. Carefully managed, fleshmancy could be incredibly useful. I just need to be disciplined about it.

  I feel that is enough studying Fleshmancy for the day so I decided to study my self-created cultivation technique. It’s not procrastinating, I swear!

  Indeed Fleshmancy could turn into something great in the future but I still prefer this mock cultivation technique more as it has greater possibility.

  I sit cross-legged on the floor and turn my attention inward again, this time focusing on my meridians.

  I've been exploring them for years now, ever since I accidentally created my cultivation core by purifying that demonic artifact. The process has been agonizingly slow and painful.

  Meridians are like illusory veins inside the body, not strictly a part of any physical organ system, but real enough that mana can flow through them. They're fragile, though. Take a wrong turn, force mana too hard, and they react violently. The pain is indescribable, like being bitten by thousands of fire ants from the inside.

  From the time I learned mana sense and found them, it took me a full five years to map out the simplest circulation path.

  But now, thanks to Flesh Consume magic that has healing effects, I can afford to be more aggressive. If I make a mistake and damage my meridians, I can just heal myself. It still hurts like hell, but at least I can recover quickly and try again.

  I take a deep breath and start circulating mana through my meridians, following the established path first. Heart, lungs, dantian, back to the heart. The flow is smooth, familiar.

  Then I suddenly feel it, a new path. A branch I haven't noticed before. It doesn't lead anywhere physical… Instead, it seems to point outward, into empty space.

  Or... not empty space.

  I follow the sensation carefully, letting my mana trickle along the new pathway. It's subtle, elusive, like trying to grab smoke.

  And then I feel it connect.

  Into my shadow, and beyond. To my Flesh Pouch.

  The meridian pathway loops through the dimensional storage space, encircling it like a protective barrier.

  Curious, I adjusted my circulation technique to include this new path. Dantian, heart, lungs, Flesh Pouch, and back to the dantian.

  Pain flares immediately—but it's different. Not the sharp, searing agony of a wrong turn. This is more like the burn of intense exercise. Like keep doing squats in high repetition. Painful, but not bad.

  I grit my teeth and keep going.

  The mana flow stabilizes. The pain intensifies but doesn't spike. I lose myself in the rhythm, cycling mana again and again through the expanded circuit.

  I keep going.

  The flow stabilizes. I lose myself in the rhythm, cycling mana again and again.

  ###

  I don't know how long I meditate. Time loses meaning.

  When I finally open my eyes, I'm still sitting cross-legged. But something's wrong.

  The first thing I noticed is that it is already dark outside.

  And the second thing is that my clothes are soaked. The floor around me is stained with black, foul-smelling pus that's oozed from every pore.

  "Ugh." I wipe my face with the back of my hand, grimacing. "This is… marrow cleansing, right? To think that I experienced it again."

  It's a process often described in Chinese cultivation novels when the body purges impurities accumulated over a lifetime. Disgusting, but a sign of progress. This means that I am doing something right.

  I stagger to my feet, peeling off my now-ruined shirt. My body feels... different. Lighter. Stronger. Like I've shed a layer of dead weight I didn't know I was carrying… or it might just be a suggestive feeling from seeing my impurities out.

  First priority: a bath. Immediately.

  Second priority: food. I'm starving.

  I make my way upstairs, trying not to drip too much on the floor. Jane intercepts me in the hallway, takes one look at me, and wrinkles her nose.

  Jane intercepts me in the hallway and stops dead, her expression shifting from professional to deeply worried.

  "Young master…" She steps closer, eyes scanning me frantically. "The impurities again. Are you… did it…" She takes a sharp breath. "Did you encounter it again?"

  I understand her fear immediately. The last time I excreted these impurities, I'd been fighting off the lingering will of a demon god. It had nearly consumed me.

  "No, Jane. Nothing like that. I managed to improve my secret purification technique and I managed to squeeze out this impurity."

  Her shoulders relax slightly, but suspicion remains. "You're certain?"

  "I'm certain. No demonic presence. No voices in my head. Just painful progress and very effective detoxification." I gesture at the mess. "Though I desperately need a bath."

  "Right away, young master." She's already moving, but pauses. "If you feel anything unusual…"

  "I'll tell you immediately. I promise."

  She nods, though worry still lingers in her eyes.

  As she hurries off to prepare the bath, I can't help but smile.

  I felt a pang of guilt for scaring Jane. I needed to explain the 'marrow cleansing' theory to her, to replace her fear with understanding. And if daily practice could purify me to this degree... What was the endpoint? A state of perfect, uncorrupted self? That wasn't just a hope; it was a hypothesis worth testing.

  Well, then again, despite the mess, despite the lingering fear in Jane's expression...

  Today was a productive day.