Can’t Wait

Charlie had just finished helping his mother cultivate in the womb, carefully taking a sliver of mana at the end for himself as always. It wasn't much, just enough to ensure his body kept developing properly.

At first, things had improved. After a period of near-starvation, where her body barely sustained them, she had started receiving mana-rich food. It had been exactly what she needed—not just for herself, but for him too. The mana-infused meals supported her recovery and fueled her cultivation, while also benefitting his developing form.

But now, something had changed again.

Her food had switched. Gone were the rich, mana-infused nutrients that had kept them stable. Now, it was plain, manaless food—enough to keep her alive but no longer suitable for cultivation.

Why had it changed so drastically?

First, starvation. Then, recovery. Now, this. The inconsistency made no sense.

Charlie could feel the difference immediately. Without the mana-infused nutrients, he wasn't reaping the same benefits, and his body felt like it was falling behind. If not for her cultivating and the ambient mana he could absorb, he knew his growth would already be stunted compared to other children. Her cultivation sessions were the only thing keeping both of them afloat, but even those came at a cost. He could feel the strain on her body with every session.

The shift in her food left him uneasy. Was it due to scarcity? A choice she'd made? Or something else entirely? He had no way of knowing, but he knew one thing: she was pushing herself harder than ever to ensure his survival.

As he floated in the womb, he couldn't shake the strangeness of it all. It reminded him of another moment in his first life—a day of excitement and anticipation.

The day he was supposed to go to the pillar.

Charlie had turned twelve a few months earlier, but because his birthday fell in the winter, he'd had to wait. New Dakota only organized trips to the pillar twice a year: once in the spring when the snows melted and again in the fall before the heavy snowfalls returned.

The journey to the pillar wasn't simple. The settlement avoided the contested pillar on the warlord's side of the river, traveling instead to a safer one located in the opposite direction. It was a full day's journey, requiring the caravan to camp overnight both on the way there and back.

Charlie had been ecstatic.

The caravan wasn't limited to twelve-year-olds. It included anyone in the settlement who hadn't yet visited a pillar—young and old alike. For many, this was their long-awaited opportunity to begin cultivating. Charlie imagined the camaraderie of traveling alongside people who shared the same excitement and nerves, the thrill of reaching the pillar together, and the anticipation of discovering his path.

Amber had gone to the pillar in the fall, six months earlier. She had returned as a spirit cultivator, specializing in elemental techniques. Charlie remembered how she explained it: humans could use elemental techniques, but without an affinity, they required significantly more effort and understanding to wield effectively.

Amber had taken to cultivation quickly, her sharp mind grasping techniques with ease. It was impressive, but Charlie wasn't envious. His interest lay elsewhere.

Gretchin, who had gone to the pillar years earlier, had chosen the path of body cultivation, following in their father's footsteps. She specialized in daggers, her movements deadly and precise, while their father was a master of the sword.

The differences between spirit and body cultivation were striking.

Spirit cultivators focused on manipulating energy to fuel their techniques, excelling in versatility, ranged attacks, and battlefield control. Body cultivators tempered their physical forms, becoming weapons themselves, relying on raw strength, speed, and endurance to dominate in close combat. Both paths had their strengths, but Charlie was drawn to the sheer power and resilience of body cultivation.

Even so, his father reminded him that the pillar would decide.

"You'll know your path soon enough," his father had said. "Let the pillar guide you before making any decisions."

Charlie didn't care. Whether he became a body cultivator like his father and Gretchin or a spirit cultivator like Amber, he couldn't wait to begin.

The days leading up to the trip were filled with preparation. Gretchin took it upon herself to train him relentlessly, drilling him in techniques and sharpening his instincts. Her passion for cultivation was inspiring, even if her intensity left him sore and exhausted by the end of each day.

His father offered quieter lessons, demonstrating foundational sword techniques with calm precision. Despite his measured approach, Charlie could tell his father was proud of his determination.

The anticipation grew with each passing day.

The pillar wasn't just a rite of passage—it was the start of something greater. Charlie could already see himself standing tall as a cultivator, ready to take his place among his family and face the challenges of the world beyond New Dakota.

The day was almost here.