It had to be known that for every circle ford, the body would undergo a qualitative change, one that would massively attune the mage to their circle’s path, but it would also etch a set of runes across their body.
Through these runes, they would exist in a perpetual state of quasi-resonance with the specific aether type aligned with their circle’s magic.
These runes would also act as a sort of spell sentry, allowing near-instantaneous casting without ntal strain or effort.
The higher the access grade, the greater the bodily transformation, and the more refined and complex the system of runes etched across the body.
Considering Uriel had ford five circles at once, each rooted in access grades seemingly surpassing the diamond grade by far...
’...’
The mantle didn’t budge in the least. In fact, it almost seed to tighten around him, locking his body in place as he rapidly shattered and broke down, the process entirely painless.
The sound of squirming flesh and cracking bones faintly echoed through the garden as torrential surges of aether were sucked into him, thick and potent, yet left unnoticed by the duo still sparring in the distance.
His core grew, thickening and widening with every passing second, his already massive aether pool steadily enlarging.
At that mont, the three pills he’d taken from his pack—the Godly Arcana Pill, the Godless Arcana Pill, and the Great Sculpture Pill—seed to erupt once more, their truest effects only manifesting now that his mage path had finally been sparked.
But the changes didn’t end there.
Uriel had never felt his mind so clearly before, so physically and tangibly, that it was almost as if he could feel the very fabric of his psyche and Will, the imperceptible force he used to control aether.
It was novel in a way a normal human like him couldn’t possibly explain, as though he were finally grasping the reins that truly controlled not just his body, but his... soul.
It was wonderful.
CRACK!
He felt it shatter.
It rebuilt, tearing and lting just as his flesh and bone did, his mind thrown into the sa limbo as his body, caught in a relentless cycle of creation and destruction.
Yet paradoxically, though his mind was shattering and rebuilding, he was still... conscious, only diving deeper and deeper into his state of enlightennt.
There were too many sensations, too much information flooding his mind, too much strength pouring through him. His affinity to aether, and indirectly, the arcane arts, rose at such staggering speeds that it all culminated in a zenith of pleasure that nearly fried his brain.
He felt close to... sothing.
...
TSHI!
The mantle of white encasing him popped and shattered, breaking into specks of light that vanished into the drifting wind.
The falling rain finally made contact with his body once more, cooling his steaming flesh as his mind settled and his body fell back into order.
He didn’t look to have changed much physically, save for the faint runes that montarily flashed across his skin, resplendent and complex, but inwardly, he felt entirely different, as if he’d been granted a new body and mind altogether.
Fog escaped his nostrils as he exhaled, slowly reopening his eyes.
’That was fun.’ He smiled.
He looked down at his palms, feeling the rushing flow of his blood and natal aether.
’But I’ll stop here for now, or else I’ll overload my plate. I’ll get used to my arsenal until I get near the peaks of the first-step ranks.’
’Then maybe I’ll speed up to the thirteenth circle.’ He nodded to himself, a series of plans and ideas slotting neatly into place within his mind, but first—
"Hey!" he called out to the sparring duo as he hopped off his boulder and jogged toward them.
Laying eyes on Ayah, he couldn’t help but be taken aback.
She didn’t look anything close to human anymore—her body a harmonious yet chiric blend of countless creatures and materials.
Dozens of feathered and bat-like wings tore from her back, scales and chitin lining her flesh as parts of her took on elental forms while others sprouted entirely new limbs.
Dozens of pairs of eyes dotted her face, and a thick yet chaotic swirl of aether danced around her, coiling around the now not-so-massive greatsword in her grasp.
It once had been longer and wider than her, yet now it looked like a regular longsword, her size having ballooned into a monstrous yet beautiful entity of coiling muscle and power.
"...wow."
Enoch looked just as unusual, though less flashy, his body encased in armor of thick, seemingly solid athyst fla, the fire twisting into a lion’s head that clamped shut over his own like a helt.
Tendrils of erald lightning danced around him, forming roaring lion heads that circled his long, resplendent dual swords.
Uriel was speechless.
Was this not supposed to be a friendly spar?
"U-um, can I join? Or is it—"
"Good. We were waiting." Ayah’s voice sounded entirely inhuman, a choir of dozens of guttural and sharp tones overlapping to form a deep screech.
Enoch nodded. "Do you want a weapon?"
Uriel shook his head and took a few steps back to create distance, a smaller version of the spell sentry appearing behind him like a golden wheel of runes.
Aether began to dance around him and across his skin. Dark silver runes lit up, linking together into a formation that lined his entire body.
Enoch and Ayah’s gazes imdiately narrowed.
"No, not for now. I want to see how I do without anything else."
Silence followed, the three of them letting the howling wind fill the void and the falling pitter-patter of rain anchor them in place.
A thin film of pressure settled over the garden, their cores revving and natal aether cycling at unmatched speeds, sparks poised to ignite into action.
Uriel, still unfamiliar with the heat of battle, couldn’t help but smile nervously, his palms growing slick as excitent bubbled deep in his heart.
And then—
"Oh!"
—they vanished, both attacking him at once.
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