Items like this were banned in the kingdom. If found, they would be destroyed without hesitation, labeled as evil tools corrupting the purity of the realm. But Grievous never saw it that way. To him, good and evil were nothing more than perspectives shaped by individual needs and desires.
He understood the world in terms of benefit and harm. Everything that served his purpose was good. Everything that hindered him was evil. There were no moral constraints to hold him back. No invisible chains of societal judgment or tradition.
Throughout his life, Grievous had been the direct cause of the deaths of tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands. His name was whispered with fear and revulsion. Yet those who knew him on a personal level, well understood something chilling: he did not operate by human morals at all.
He had transcended the simplistic binary of right and wrong long ago. In his mind, he was his own moral compass, the balance of good and evil embodied in one being. Outwardly, he could appear civilized or even honorable. But in the ruthless arenas of politics and power, he was rightly feared and named The Nine-Headed Demon.
For Grievous, the cost of killing seven more people to regain his full strength was negligible. It was a trivial price, something he could execute with a mere flick of a finger. With his new ability, even that was unnecessary. Life and death bent easily to his will.
He took the mysterious gear with calm purpose. No urgency, no hesitation. His mind was already moving ahead, planning his next steps. Quietly, he slipped towards his father. The two moved swiftly, shadows among shadows, exiting the treasury without stirring suspicion.
Once outside, Grievous erased the memories of the guards with real efficiency. Their minds would fog over, their recollections dissolving into nothing. It was a small mercy, better they forget than remember the terror they had briefly glimpsed as their master was turned into a puppet.
Separated from his father, Grievous retreated to his room. The door closed behind him with a soft click, sealing him away from the outside world. He sat down on the edge of the bed, muscles relaxing for the first time in hours.
He closed his eyes and summoned the memory of the magical technique he had recently studied. It was complex, intricate, and unlike anything commonly known in the kingdom. But Grievous had read and understood it deeply. Now, it was time to commit it fully to memory.
The first step required communication with the soul, the core of spiritual energy known as Shen. This energy was not static, rather it flowed, pulsed, and vibrated within the vessel of the soul. The technique directed the user to guide this energy into a container, what cultivators called the Shen Basin, a translucent sphere that shimmered like glass.
Within this basin, the spiritual energy quivered, its liquid essence responding to the user's will. Then came the sudden stop, the critical moment where the energy would leak from the soul into the body. This connection was known, but the technique emphasized controlling this flow, channeling it precisely through what was called The Mind Palace.
The Mind Palace was a sacred internal space where the user could shape and build the foundation of their magical power. It appeared as a towering column, stretching upward in a longitudinal form, glowing with the colors of raw spiritual energy.
On this column, giant circular stones appeared, each representing an elemental affinity the user possessed. The size of each stone indicated the strength of that affinity. The largest stone symbolized the element with the highest connection to the user, followed by smaller stones for lesser affinities.
Grievous opened his eyes slowly, a faint hoarseness in his voice as he whispered, "So the task of the technique is simply to stabilize the Shen Basin during the magical empowerment process."
He paused, considering the implications.
"This means there are differences between techniques."
"But that does not truly matter. It will not affect me if I decide to change the technique itself. It is more of a support system for the process rather than an unchangeable rule once it has begun."
Through the understanding of his own wits, he could truly tell that the first 3 ranks were easily be bypassed with enough materials, unlike the realms beyond the fact.
Finally a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So, let us begin our ascent beyond the limits of normal humans. And then… we will reclaim the leg."
The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of his breath and the faint hum of his spiritual energy awakening.
Calmly, with intense focus, Grievous began executing the technique.
The Shen Basin inside his mind began to move slowly, the energy taking liquid form, vibrating with subtle ripples. It was as if a storm raged silently within that glass sphere, chaos held in delicate balance.
He imagined the energy as a shimmering pool, its surface reflecting colors unseen by the naked eye. Indigo, emerald, and crimson swirled beneath the translucent barrier, each hue representing a different facet of his essence.
Grievous leaned back slightly, eyes still closed, feeling the currents of Shen flow through him like invisible rivers. The sensation was both calming and electrifying, a paradox of peace and power.
He thought, 'This is only the beginning. The true strength lies not in the power itself, but in mastering its flow.'
Memories flickered through his mind, faces of enemies fallen to his hands.
Yet none of it mattered now. Not the past. Not the judgments of others.
Only the future. Only the climb beyond what was humanly possible.
His thoughts drifted to the missing limb, the leg he had lost in battle. It was a reminder of his mortality, a weakness he loathed. But with this technique, with the power he was cultivating, he would reclaim it.
No longer would he be bound by flesh and bone. The leg would return, whole and stronger than before.
The room around him faded into insignificance. Time seemed to stretch and bend as he remained seated, eyes shut, fully immersed within the mental landscape of his Mind Palace.
Each breath drew deeper into the well of energy inside him. Each heartbeat echoed the pulse of the Shen Basin vibrating within.
Grievous' lips moved silently, reciting the steps of the technique as if chanting a sacred prayer. The words were old, ancient, yet they resonated with new meaning in his mouth.
Outside, the night deepened. The moon cast silver beams through the window, illuminating motes of dust that floated lazily in the still air.
But inside his mind, a tempest brewed, one that would soon unleash a force the world had bever expected.
He was not a man bound by old laws or petty morality. He was a force of nature, a storm with nine heads.
After some time performing the intricate process, Grievous began to shift the spiritual energy seeping into his body. He moved it carefully, like water flowing through narrow channels, directing it toward the core of his consciousness. Slowly, he guided the energy into The Mind Palace. The sensation was both alien and comforting, as if a hidden part of himself was awakening from a long slumber.
The journey through his own mind was not instantaneous. Every step felt deliberate, painstakingly cautious.
He imagined himself threading a needle through the fabric of his soul. As he approached The Mind Palace, a subtle force drew him in, pulling the spiritual energy upward and inward.
The features of the colossal column began to take shape in front of him, a monument both mysterious and majestic.
He paused, feeling the shift in perception. The world around him faded until all that remained was the vast interior of The Mind Palace itself. It was gigantic in every sense, a limitless expanse that defied ordinary understanding.
The air was dense with a strange energy, and the hues of black and purple dominated the landscape like an eternal twilight.
Surrounding him were ancient structures, doorless buildings with walls etched in symbols long forgotten. They seemed to hum with quiet power, resonating with the essence of the place. The architecture was alien yet strangely familiar, as if echoing some buried memory from a past life.
Grievous looked around slowly, taking in the surreal scene. The silence was profound, broken only by the faint echo of his own breath within this mental realm. He spoke aloud, his voice steady but tinged with awe.
"So this is The Mind Palace."
He turned his attention back to the towering black column, its surface smooth but rippling with unseen energy. It stretched upwards endlessly, vanishing into shadows above. The column was the heart of his power, a physical manifestation of his magical affinities and potential.
Instantly, he understood the elements that composed his essence. The column measured the lengths of each elemental affinity like a barometer of strength. Shadow dominated, extending over two hundred meters, a vast, dark river of potential energy. Next came Gluttony, a strange and insatiable force reaching around one hundred sixty meters.
Above these, Space stretched a hundred twenty meters, a dimension of possibilities and distance. Darkness followed, a hundred meters long, wrapping the others in its cold embrace. Beyond these four, the sizes tapered sharply, Fire flickered at twenty meters, barely a flame compared to the others. Light was barely a sliver, less than a meter, a faint glimmer in the void.
Grievous let out a low grunt, the weight of realization settling over him. The disparity was stark. His strongest affinities were reserved for the darker, more elusive elements, while the more traditional forces were faint and weak by comparison.
He returned his focus to the barren floor of the Mind Palace and spoke with quiet determination.
"Then the spells I have simply will not be enough to bring me to my full strength."
His eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. The spells he currently possessed were inadequate for the magnitude of power he sought. There was only one course of action now.
"I must have that organization bring me every possible spell for the first four elements."
He emphasized the importance of quantity over quality, aware that rank no longer mattered. He was still at the first rank of the nine ranks of magicians, but that was no barrier to amassing knowledge.
As he looked around the eerie expanse with calm expression, he made a decision.
"Since I am already here, I should begin learning the spells available at my rank."
His gaze settled on the element he knew most intimately.
"Let's start with Shadow Movement."
Grievous closed his eyes briefly, summoning the scene required to perform the spell. He envisioned a simple alleyway filled with twisting shadows, the perfect stage for the incantation. Slowly, he began to weave the spell from the threads of magical mathematics, the complex theoretical framework that the original body's owner had been gifted in.
The process was meticulous. Each calculation precise, each motion deliberate. The intangible began to take form. Before him appeared a translucent orb, resembling glass but shimmering with an inner darkness. Inside it, a shadowy double of himself floated, suspended in stillness.
Calmly, he reached out and grasped the orb. His fingers closed around it, and as he squeezed gently, he felt himself drawn into the shadow contained within. The sensation was like sinking into a cool, liquid void, weightless and silent.
Once fully immersed, Grievous moved quietly through the shadows, guided by memory and instinct. His footsteps made no sound. Above him, the alley opened to the world outside, and he looked up to see the familiar scenery beyond the veil of darkness.
He stepped out of the shadow and felt the subtle hum of spiritual energy within him. The consumption of his power was negligible, it was as if the spell allowed him to move effortlessly, conserving strength.
He flexed his fingers, closing and opening his hand, and spoke softly.
"The spell system is truly fascinating."
His mind raced with possibilities.
"It depends on the speed of thought. If the caster can create the spell within The Mind Palace quickly enough and bring it outside, they become nearly invincible."
He smiled faintly, the realization settling in.
"This fits perfectly with my basic ability. It cannot be a coincidence."
Grievous tilted his head, a spark of curiosity igniting within.
"Everything has a meaning."
He wondered silently, 'Why was I given these tools? What purpose does it all serve?'
His thoughts drifted to the other gifts he possessed, the abilities yet unexplored.
"I'm really curious to discover how to use the other ability."
The truth was undeniable. The First Brother had prepared these powers specifically for him. Every detail was tailored with intimate knowledge of his path, anticipating every step he would take.
Grievous allowed himself a moment to imagine what lay ahead. What heights could he reach? What secrets could he unlock? The possibilities stretched as infinitely as the Mind Palace itself.
He clenched his fist, determination burning in his eyes.
Let me leave you to imagine what he will do to develop these abilities.