Nearly a day had passed when Zeke found himself standing before the Mana Purifying device once more. His gaze was conflicted as he stared at the entrance. On one hand, he was eager to activate the machine and immerse himself in its bliss. On the other, he already dreaded the agony of leaving it behind.
"Are you certain I am ready?" he asked mentally, trying to find a reason to delay the inevitable.
[Answer]
All signs of the aftermath have been purged. No further abnormalities detected.
Zeke grimaced. He had tried his best to avoid thinking about this moment, but there was no logical reason for him not to go back in. At first, distraction came easily—there was plenty to do. He even managed another round of poison treatment, using the more potent version of the Progenitor. Yet, compared to the agony of the Mana Purification device, it had been manageable.
Zeke wavered for a moment, but then his resolve hardened. When had he ever shied away from a challenge or cowered before pain? That wasn't his way, and he would never let it become so. To rise above everyone else, he needed the mental fortitude worthy of that position—and this was his moment to prove it.
Without any more hesitation, he stepped inside the chamber and locked the door behind him. "I am ready." The now familiar clicking and clacking echoed through the chamber a moment later, and Zeke took his customary place in the center.
Thankfully, there was no lingering stench from his vomit nor any trace of the mess he had made. Akasha must have taken care of it while he was distracted. Having such a capable assistant was truly a blessing. It was easy to overlook how much the spirit did for him behind the scenes. If Zeke wasn't careful, he might one day even forget how to wipe his own ass.
With a soft hiss, the gas began to fill the chamber, and soon, he was fully immersed in it once again. For a moment, Zeke feared his memory of the sensation had been idealized, that it couldn't have been as pleasurable as he remembered. But the moment he took his first breath of the gas, all those doubts vanished.
A shiver ran down his back, and goosebumps erupted all over his skin. His entire body felt sensitive while being simultaneously filled with energy. Had the sensation gotten even stronger?
He… He never wanted to leave again.
Zeke clamped down on those thoughts and tried to get used to the euphoric state of his body. The same as last time, it took him a few minutes before he could even begin to form coherent thoughts. When his mind had somewhat cleared, he slowly began to pick up where he had left off.
No matter what else was happening, he still needed to find a way to break through to the Grand Mage level. Yet, Zeke had a strong feeling that this research went beyond that. With each new insight, he came closer to understanding his true path. It was as if he could finally glimpse the outline of the Mage he was destined to become.
Picking up where he left off was easier than expected. Whether it was the environment or how his previous stay had primed his body, Zeke quickly slipped back into deep meditation. In no time, he was fully immersed in his studies, where time lost all meaning, and not a single thought was spent on the inevitable moment he'd have to leave the chamber again.
At least, not until Akasha whispered in his mind…
[Notice]
Commander Frost is expected to arrive in a short while.
Zeke heard the words but couldn't make sense of them. Frost? Who was that? And why was he coming here? He took another deep inhale of the gas, nearly slipping back into his research. But before he could, memories surged through him like a bolt of lightning. All of a sudden, he was wide awake; the adrenaline shooting through his veins had driven away all languidness or sense of comfort.
It was time… He would have to face the withdrawal again.
Zeke stood up and cautiously reached his sweaty hands toward the crank. In another situation, the scene might have seemed comical—his careful approach as if the crank might suddenly lash out. But he found no humor in it. The closer his fingers came to the cold metal, the more his nerves tightened.
His hand paused for an instant longer before firmly taking hold of the wheel. He gingerly applied pressure, turning it counter clockwise. However, with every creak, he could feel his back getting more drenched. Zeke gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his body's reaction. There was no actual reason to be afraid, he knew that. And yet, his body instinctively knew that it was going to go through a hellish experience in just a few moments.
Even though Zeke's Soul could escape the torment, his body could not. Right now, he struggled against his primal instincts, trying to force his fingers to move. It wasn't that he had lost control, but he was innately aware that his current course of action was risky, causing him to doubt himself.
For someone like Zeke, who relied heavily on his intuition, this was a significant challenge. It was akin to trying to reason with fear—like a person afraid of heights trying to convince themselves they're in no danger. A fruitless endeavor, to say the least.
Eventually, the slow-turning crank reached its limit and was yanked from his hand. Zeke braced himself as the gas erupted from the chamber like a raging volcano. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to regulate his breathing, but it was all in vain. When the first breath of air reached his lungs, it was over.
Spasms, pain, and nausea hit all at once, and Zeke collapsed forward before he could catch himself. He tried to brace for the fall, but his hands wouldn't respond, and he hit the smooth stone floor face-first, scraping his cheek raw. He didn't care. The wound would heal in minutes, and he barely felt the impact through the pain.
This time, he chose not to hold on, ejecting his Soul immediately. He would be more effective outside the pain-filled haze he was experiencing. Once again, he did everything he could to minimize the damage from this period. However, he couldn't help but feel worried when he noticed that the tremors seemed even worse than last time.
"Akasha?"
[Answer]
The withdrawal symptoms have increased slightly compared to last time, but there is no need for concern. Host's body is not in any danger.
Zeke wasn't reassured. The worsening symptoms were troubling on their own. Just because he was safe now didn't guarantee he would be next time or the time after. The trend was unsustainable. In his incorporeal state, he watched his body shiver and flail, gradually calming over the next half hour. When he was confident that the worst had passed, he returned to his body.
Zeke pressed his hands against the floor and scrambled to his feet. The scrape on his cheek had already healed, but he still felt terrible. It was as if he had just survived a great battle, barely escaping with his life. He turned his head slowly to look back at the device, dread filling his eyes as he did so. He quickly averted his gaze and made his way over to his supplies, changing his outfit once more.
Just then, Gravitas entered the room. "Master?!"
Zeke nodded, too worn out to try for a smile. "Hello," he rasped, his throat feeling raw.
She silently stared at him, her gaze wandering all over his face and body. "…Are you okay?"
Zeke wanted to nod reflexively but couldn't manage it. What was the point of lying? The woman could clearly see his wretched state. After a brief pause, he just sighed. "I will be…"
Gravitas' eyes wavered at his words. "Master… if… if this is the price… Maybe we should just leave..."
Zeke's gaze dropped. He had considered that, too. Convincing Frost to bring him a large supply of flowers would be simple. With his prize in hand, he could pack up and leave. Even if they lost the mountain, Zeke was confident he could cultivate the flowers in a greenhouse given enough time.
This was exactly the problem. His rational mind had kept reminding him of all these facts:
…The risk was not worth the reward.
…He didn't owe the tribe anything.
…There was no need to do this.
…It was dangerous.
…Irrational.
…Bad.
Slap!
Before his mind could spiral any further, Zeke slapped his cheeks with both hands. That wasn't his rational mind talking, but his fear. The dread had sunken so deep into his bones that he was all too eager to talk himself out of his own choice.
Thankfully, there was a different voice in his mind—one that never claimed to be rational. It was a voice that stemmed from his spite, his pride, and his arrogance. Though it wasn't loud, it cut through the clamor of his panicked thoughts.
"I will not stop. I will not surrender—I will never surrender."
Zeke felt his back straighten, and his mind began to calm. He had always known that he was a stubborn person, but it was surprising to learn that it was the one quality that triumphed over all the others. He took in a large gulp of air, the action stinging his lungs. However, the pain helped to fully clear his thoughts.
He looked up and met Gravitas's eyes. "Did Frost arrive?"
Gravitas eyed him a moment longer before nodding.
"Can you tell him that I'll be right there?"
Another nod, and Zeke soon found himself alone in his room once more. Dismissing Gravitas' concern had been unpleasant, but he lacked the energy to explain. It was hard enough to convince himself, let alone others. But he had made his choice, and he wouldn't allow doubt or fear to steer him away from it.
Zeke studied his reflection in the mirror, attempting to appear dignified, but he fell short. He looked like a beaten dog, and despite his earlier words, the usual fire in his eyes was missing. Ignoring problems rarely solved them and deciding to endure didn't make everything magically better.
After a few more attempts, he decided to give up. It didn't matter if Frost and his people saw him weak; It had never been his power that had kept them in line in the first place. With an awkward gait, he headed to the portal room.
His daily tasks would provide a welcome distraction before he had to confront his demons again…