Magma Dragon Cultivation

50th of Season of Fire, 56th year of the 32nd cycle

Newt had slept for ten hours straight and woke up next to a pile of crystals. He devoured sixty before depleting the mound and closing his eyes while drifting into meditative trance.

He ignored his uncle’s insults and his former sparring partner’s taunts, focusing on cultivating his realm.

A thick column of rock with a spear-like tip burst from the ground, piercing high into the sky. The eruption of lava stopped, all of Newt’s energy focused on pushing the column higher and higher.

A hundred feet, then two hundred without showing a sign of slowing. At two hundred and fifty, the growth slowed, but foot by foot, the majestic pine grew. It reached the height of trees in Magmin’s realm and kept growing.

At three hundred and ten feet, Newt felt a strain, his realm lacked the energy to propel the tree forward, but the youth kept pushing. The speed at which the tree rose slowed further, and Newt fought for every inch before finally collapsing, out of breath.

He stared up, panting. Then he burst into laughter.

“I did it! Three hundred and thirty-three feet.” He gasped for air. “I hope there’s a point other than a nice number.”

Newt was certain he had hit a barrier of sorts. It felt like the tip of the tree had struck a steel wall, one which Newt would never move past. Whether the barrier was real or imaginary, the youth would have to see during his next few attempts.

He lay motionless on the ground, breathing for several long seconds before he heard lava gushing from the volcano again.

“I overexerted myself. But could I have achieved this feat without pouring all of myself into it?” Newt suspected not. In fact, he was certain that pacing himself through a slow and steady approach had limited the growth of his previous creations.

I guess I need to rest now and recover to my peak condition. How long was I at it, anyway? Newt had no idea. The adrenalin surge made the whole experience seem like several seconds, but the fatigue and exertion told a different story. He must have been at it for hours.

He opened his eyes, and found four spirit gems waiting for him, still no sign of Magmin.

It has neither hands nor bags or pockets. It must be bringing them back one by one, or two by two.

Newt felt little pity for the snake’s plight, devouring the gems instead. He felt shivers run down his spine and closed his eyes once more, wondering what had happened. As soon as he appeared in his realm, he noticed a change. The realm had grown. Lava spurting out of the crater had become shinier, more vibrant, the rocks beneath his feet more solid.

He recalled his father talking about it. The higher the realm’s layer, the more real it felt. Changes were easy to make before the objects he cultivated grew solid, but as his layers increased, the previously refined structures would grow sturdier, finally becoming immutable when he broke through the realm barrier and entered the next realm.

On one hand, growing Magmin Pines in the third layer had become more difficult, on the other, he was drawing more energy.

“I hope it evens out,” Newt muttered and got to work.

He was more or less right. The process took longer, the strain forcing him to his knees before he finished, but he could feel the extra energy supporting him.

“You will never make it,” Newt’s uncle whispered, and the Magmin Pine collapsed, inches before completion.

“You son of a—!” Debris rained, and Newt stopped himself before insulting his own grandmother. He drew a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was almost there, you know? Half a foot before the finish line. Why are you such a, such a… such an arse biscuit?”

“You will spend the rest of your life digging for scraps in the mines,” the heart demon said, unfazed by Newt’s half-baked insult.

“I will ignore you next time. You are just a figment of my imagination, a voice I am hearing.”

“I defeated your father and took over his clan. I threw you into a black pit. I will eat you and take over your realm.”

“Go frick yourself in a frickin’ bush!” Newt panted with rage, then grit his teeth. “Stop. Ignore it. They are empty words of your fears and childish delusions. What have I learned from this? I shouldn’t rush advancing through layers—”

“The only place you are rushing to is your grave.”

“I should prepare thoroughly and squish any distractions before they prove a hindrance.”

“You are your own worst hindrance.”

“I need to relax. Go throw some pebbles into the boiling lava.” Newt got up, then stopped after two steps. “Yeah, because throwing earth energy back into the fire, while fire is trying to separate itself from it, is such a bright idea.”

The youth settled on watching lava form bubbles, which often grew to a shocking size before bursting and spraying lava several feet in every direction and letting the heat escape upwards.

Newt’s uncle kept whispering threats and curses, but whenever the youth tried to respond he found himself tongue-tied.

“It’s hard insulting your close relative without cursing yourself or your parents,” he said with a sigh, unable to vent even verbally.

About an hour passed before he returned to cultivation. He focused and reinforced his mind against interruptions, even though the voices had temporarily gone silent. Newt reached the critical point when his former sparring partner spoke.

“Watch out, Young Master,” the heart demon shouted, signifying he was about to strike.

Newt steeled his resolve and focused on his task, ready to take the punishment, but the blow never came. Instead, the Magmin Pine reached its peak height, and struck the invisible barrier. Newt collapsed and laughed while staring at the gigantic tree a handful of yards away.

“Two more for this area, then eight more in the next.”

“You’ll never make it,” Newt’s uncle said, and lava erupted ominously.

“You are nothing but skins filled with hot air. Other than barking, there’s little you can do. And if I expect your disruption, you can’t even distract me.”

The heart demons cackled in response, and Newt ignored them. After resting, he erected another Magmin Pine, and then another. The only area left was the new, fourth layer.

The fourth layer was more malleable. Hard rocks obeyed his will immediately and shot towards the sky at much greater speed. Instead of slowing at two hundred and fifty feet, the growth started faltering at the three-hundred-foot mark.

Heart demons assailed Newt’s mind, but he pressed on until the Magmin Pine slammed into the invisible barrier with too much force. The giant rock formation shuddered from the impact, then cracked.

Newt sighed in annoyance as chunks of rock slammed into the ground a handful of feet away.

“Three hundred and thirty-three feet really is some sort of limit imposed on me by the realm.” He paused for a moment, willing the earth to swallow the detritus. “I guess I’ll have to go slower next time.”

Time passed. Newt grew his tiny grove, the gentle slope grew imperceptibly steeper as he toiled on creating new Magmin Pines, and lava burbled happily whenever it got the chance.

Finally, with everything in order, Newt awoke from his meditation, finding another sixty-eight spirit gems next to him. He consumed twenty of them before Magmin slithered into the cave, his body looped around two spirit gems.

“You are awake, newt. Have you made any progress?” the serpent hissed.

“I have completed the third and fourth layers, the volcano is steadily growing. I will keep consuming the spirit gems you bring me to grow stronger and increase my realm. In the meantime, I have some questions.” Newt paused, sensing Magmin’s sharp glare. “If you don’t mind, teacher?”

“Go ahead,” Magmin hissed, still not happy, but friendlier than he was a moment ago.

“How deep are the Magmin Pines’ roots?”

A moment of silence followed. “Why would I know something like that? They are as deep as needed. Why do you want to know that?”

“I was just wondering whether the size of the tree has anything to do with how much spiritual energy it gathers, and if so, why?”

“Why what?” Magmin hissed. “The tree size naturally correlates with the amount of energy it gathers. Is that not obvious? I would not have made them as big as they are out of boredom.”

“Yes, but, tall trees should gather air aligned spiritual energy, for them to gather earth aligned spiritual energy tinged with fire, they need deep roots, not tall trunks. Right?”

Magmin shrugged, despite lacking shoulders.

“But there is an even more important question. Why did you stop at this height? Why not make them taller?”

“That is as tall as they could grow. What? Can you make yours taller?” Newt heard a dangerous hint of hostility in the serpent’s voice.

“No, no, no. Not at all,” he lied without breaking a sweat. “Mine are two hundred and twenty-two feet tall, around seven tenths of your Magmin Pines.”

Magmin snorted. “It is only natural. Reptiles are superior to amphibians, but you have put in a valiant effort. Work hard, and with my coaching, you may yet become a lizard one day.”

“Thank you,” Newt said, wondering what it meant that he had outdone a dragon in their own cultivation technique.

Hopefully, it meant his future was bright.