While the Alexandria remained anchored in an abandoned mountain valley near the border of the inner regions, Zeke withdrew from the world and prepared for an extended period of focused research. No one, not even his closest allies, was permitted to interrupt.
In this isolation, the two of them immersed themselves in the task of transforming Akasha into a fully functional, autonomous entity.
Each had their separate tasks.
While the Spirit handled most of the refinements to the Spellform itself, Zeke concentrated on the issue of mana consumption. During the initial experiment, she had lacked access to Mind Mana entirely, reducing her to the capabilities of an ordinary human.
It did not take him long to devise a preliminary solution.
The approach was crude, but effective. Before casting the spell, Zeke saturated the blood forming her body with Mind Mana. There was no delicate layering, no intricate integration. He flooded it like dye poured into water and observed the result.
It held.
His blood, strengthened by Draconic Essence and shaped by multiple affinities over years of refinement, absorbed the Mind Mana without catastrophic rejection. When her [Blood Manifestation] took shape, and Akasha stepped into the world again, she sensed the difference immediately.
She could cast. She could think. She could act.
Yet the solution was far from perfect. Her control over magic was crude, as though the ability had been forcibly grafted onto her rather than grown naturally. More importantly, the mana stored within the blood lasted only minutes under intensive use. Nowhere near sufficient for a sustained battle.
And just like that, the first week passed.
The second week began with another breakthrough. Akasha completed her revisions to the Spellform. Surprisingly, the structure had grown simpler rather than more complex. Zeke soon understood why.
The original spell had been a general framework, designed to generate a body suited to any soul. The revised version was tailored exclusively to Akasha. It was so precisely aligned with the needs of a Mind Spirit that any other soul subjected to it would likely find the body unusable.
Zeke had been skeptical at first, but the results exceeded expectations.
Outwardly, nothing had changed. To any observer, Akasha appeared the same. Beneath the surface, however, her brain had been fundamentally restructured. It was a change so profound that Zeke couldn't even begin to understand how she had done it, but her explanation managed to enlighten him to the effects.
Her physical brain now functioned as a relay rather than an endpoint. Instead of only processing thoughts sequentially within the confines of flesh, it could interface with what she termed virtual external minds. Constructs she projected outward and anchored to herself.
She had coined the term on the third day of that week, standing motionless with her eyes half closed and her breathing nearly imperceptible.
It did not take long for Zeke to recognize the brilliance of this model. For routine tasks, Akasha would rely solely on her physical brain, conserving as much Mind Mana as possible. Only when necessary would she draw upon her limited reserves.
In simple terms, she now possessed two modes: conservation and overdrive.
This adjustment alone would allow her to remain in human form for extended periods, potentially even weeks. It was also the reason she had chosen not to enhance her body’s physical capabilities. With only ordinary human strength to sustain, the Blood Mana sealed within her body could support her form far longer.
Unfortunately, this was where their progress stalled.
Akasha could no longer meaningfully refine the spell. At least not in a way that promised a qualitative leap. Zeke, meanwhile, had exhausted every conceivable method of infusing additional Mind Mana into his blood.
He had always known there was a limit. He had simply believed it lay farther away. It did not. Even with his affinity and the Draconic quality of his blood pushing the boundary to its utmost, the total Mind Mana he could store remained insufficient for sustained operation.
He had studied the figures for a long time.
Then, with visible reluctance, he set the approach aside.
The second week ended in frustration.
Days passed with minimal progress, and Zeke became increasingly aware of the time slipping away. If he failed to overcome this obstacle, all their efforts would amount to nothing. Weeks of research, squandered.
But some breakthroughs could not be forced through sheer will. The harder he pushed, the less progress he made. As his frustration mounted, Zeke found his thoughts growing increasingly stagnant.
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By the end of the third week, he was so exasperated that he stormed out of his study, breaking his seclusion for the first time. He had no choice. The room had begun to suffocate him, its confinement pressing in like a prison. He could not breathe. He could not think.
Yet even after leaving, the pressure remained. His chest still felt tight, his thoughts tangled. For a long while, he wandered without direction, uncertain how to proceed. He even considered abandoning the project entirely and dedicating his remaining time to something more productive. But he could not fully bring himself to do it.
With his mind still in turmoil, his aimless wandering eventually led him to the common room on the first floor, where he heard a familiar voice ahead.
David stood at the center of a small crowd, surrounded by dozens of the half elven mages. He appeared to be giving a lecture. Curious despite himself, Zeke joined the gathering and took a place at the back.
No one noticed him. All attention was fixed on David.
The Shadow Mage was speaking about his recent advancement to Archmage. He described the transformations he had undergone and the experiences that followed.
As Zeke listened, he understood the eagerness of the audience. The opportunity to hear a newly advanced Archmage speak openly about such matters was invaluable to younger mages. Every word carried the potential to increase their own chances of success.
Even Zeke, armed with vast theoretical knowledge and research data, found himself listening closely. Especially when David began describing the changes to his body.
In theory, Zeke understood it well: An Archmage fused body and core, gaining immense physical strength and, in some cases, the ability to elementalize.
But David did not speak of theory. He did not outline potential abilities or evolutionary paths. He spoke of sensation. Of how mana flowed through his body. Of how it altered his spellcasting and even the challenges of daily life. It was the kind of knowledge absent from books, papers, and collected data. The kind that could only be learned through personal experience.
As Zeke listened, he found himself unexpectedly absorbed. His thoughts, which had felt rigid and constrained for days, began to move freely again. While one part of his mind followed David’s words, the rest observed him closely, scanning him from head to toe.
...The body of an Archmage.
...A Core fused with flesh.
Zeke had always known such fusion was possible. He even understood the method by which it was achieved. Yet he had never considered the process on a microscopic level. What precise changes had occurred within David’s body upon advancement?
Fortunately, he had interacted with David frequently before his breakthrough. Now, seeing him in person, he felt a powerful urge to compare the two states.
Before and after the advancement.
Instinctively, he sensed that the key to both his current dilemma and his own future advancement lay in understanding those changes.
Akasha, already returned to her spirit form, assisted him without prompting. Their cooperation flowed seamlessly. No words were necessary. On the level of thought, they exchanged observations and hypotheses at a speed that would have required hours to articulate aloud.
Eventually, David concluded his lecture and departed, the crowd dispersing with him. Only Zeke remained, standing motionless. He no longer needed David’s physical presence.
The data had been gathered.
Now came the analysis.
Evening turned to night, and night into morning, yet Zeke remained locked in a trance. Those who passed by cast him curious glances. But whenever someone attempted to approach, a silent mental warning compelled them to withdraw.
For an entire day and night, he stood motionless, as if suspended in deep sleep. Then, at dawn on the second day, his eyes snapped open.
Without a word or any acknowledgment of the startled onlookers, Zeke vanished.
He reappeared in his study and sealed himself inside once more, resuming his research with renewed intensity.
He had been foolish.
The solution had been present from the beginning. He simply had not recognized it.
Archmages.
They operated without a conventional Core. Their bodies fused entirely with their element. In David’s case, his body had partially transformed into shadow.
In practice, it was like a fine mesh woven through his physical form. A second layer embedded within flesh and blood. It provided structure and strength, allowing his body to become one with his element.
That was the body of an Archmage.
Coincidentally, the same principle applied to Akasha. In her natural state, she was composed entirely of Mana. In a sense, her kind existed in a condition similar to that of an Archmage, lacking only a physical form.
That was the missing piece.
When he had created a body for her, they had begun with the template of an ordinary human and attempted to modify it to suit her nature. That approach had been flawed from the outset. The proper foundation should have been the body of an Archmage.
Instead of grafting flesh and blood onto a Mind Spirit and then infusing it with mana, he should have created a body already fused with Mind from its foundation.
What he needed to create wasn't a human, but the body of an Archmage with a Mind Affinity.
Days blurred together as Zeke and Akasha immersed themselves in their work. They analyzed data, restructured the spell form, designed the internal mesh, refined the brain, and constructed a stable interface. Each solution revealed new complications. The tasks seemed endless.
Zeke abandoned sleep without realizing it. Time lost all meaning. There was only the work. Day in and day out, from sunrise to sunset.
The trance was only broken when Akasha’s voice echoed within his mind. It was the first exchange between them in days.
It is done.
His thoughts stalled. For a heartbeat, he did not grasp her meaning. Then the spell form manifested before him, suspended in the air like an irresistible offering.
Understanding dawned.
It was complete.
His fingers trembled as he lifted his hand, not from fear, but from anticipation. The dagger sliced across his wrist with practiced ease, and blood began to flow in a familiar crimson stream.
It gathered in the air before him, gradually shaping itself into vessels, bone, organs, and finally skin. At first glance, the spell appeared no different from his earliest attempt.
Yet a closer look revealed faint specks of blue mana within the crimson mass. A microscopic lattice of woven threads extended through every layer of the forming body, like scaffolding supporting a rising structure.
The mesh permeated her entire form. It intersected, fused, and integrated seamlessly. Finer than the body’s natural network of vessels, it was especially dense around the brain, where the red of blood deepened into a subtle violet hue.
At last, skin formed, concealing the intricate architecture beneath a layer of pale white.
The woman's feet touched the ground, her eyes still closed.
Zeke waited in silence.
Then, she drew a single, steady breath. A moment later, her eyes opened.
A smile spread across his face as he met the gaze of the being standing before him.
“Hello, Akasha.”