Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 325: Training spatial power

Lucas finished eating and pushed his tray slightly aside while Tom quietly gathered the dishes. The morning sunlight slipped into the room, cutting across the polished floor and the half-open case where the alchemical vials still waited. Lucas stood, stretching his back for a moment, and then motioned toward the large black case by the corner.

"Tom, come help me with this," he said.

"Yes, my lord."

Together they began to carefully arrange the destructive creations Lucas had spent days perfecting. Tom handled each one with trembling hands, terrified of dropping even one. The poison spheres, the explosive crystals, the pressurized Qi-reactive flasks...every single item radiated a cold, dangerous aura that made the young squire swallow nervously.

"Please be gentle with the blue one," Lucas reminded softly as he placed a thickly sealed cylinder into the padded section. "If it cracks even slightly, it will turn the entire case into smoke."

Tom froze mid-movement. "Smoke... my lord?"

Lucas gave him a small smile that somehow made it worse. "Just smoke. Nothing else left behind."

Tom handled the next vial like it was a baby.

Finally, after long careful minutes, Lucas closed the reinforced case and secured the locks. He dusted his hands.

"That should do it. Leave this by the inner wall of my chamber. No one touches it."

"Yes, my lord. Absolutely no one."

The ice belle peeked from the bedcovers, watching them with her mouth full of the fruit she claimed to hate. She blinked a sticky grape seed off her cheek and mumbled, "I’m bored."

Lucas chuckled. "Go back to sleep."

"I am awake," she replied proudly, "because I am a responsible guardian."

Lucas raised a brow. "You slept through the entire night while I worked."

She immediately dove back under the blanket.

With everything settled, Lucas stepped out of his room with Tom . Lucas’s mind was already shifting toward what he needed to accomplish next.

When they reached the training grounds, Lucas gestured for Tom to sit aside on a distant bench.

"You can stay here," Lucas said. "I need space, and I need silence."

Tom bowed and stepped back promptly.

Lucas took a deep breath and entered the wide open arena.

He lifted his hand slowly.

A faint ripple in the air responded, like the tremor of water.

He hadn’t used this in so long. Against celestials, his spatial power had been too weak. But now... now he had ascended. His cultivation had surged. His consciousness was sharper. There was pressure beneath his skin, a new strength humming through his veins.

He clenched his fist.

The air twitched.

A small fissure split open for the briefest moment...a crack in reality itself...before sealing shut with a soft vibration.

Lucas closed his eyes and centered his breath.

This was the ability that would either save his life or take his enemies completely off guard. Against celestials, raw power might not be enough. But space... space was unpredictable. Space was absolute.

"This time," he murmured to himself, "I make it useful."

He took another breath, steadied his stance, and began pushing his spatial energy outward again...slow at first, coaxing the dimension around him to bend. The ground quivered faintly. The air shimmered like heated metal.

If he sharpened this, if he mastered it, it would become his hidden blade, his trump card.

Lucas intended to perfect it before the war arrived.

He inhaled deeply, letting the still air of the training ground fill his lungs. He loosened his shoulders, rolled his neck, and centered his awareness until the world around him faded into a quiet hum. Spatial energy responded differently from Qi. It was subtle, slippery, almost temperamental. If Qi was a river, space was a thread...one wrong tug and the entire fabric resisted.

He lifted his right hand again, palm open.

"Come," he whispered.

A faint ripple danced across his fingertips, then stretched outward like a small vibration in the air. Lucas focused harder, narrowing his consciousness into a single point. A thin blade-like distortion formed at his palm’s edge.

"Sharper."

The distortion tightened, turning into a nearly invisible crescent of warped light. He swung his hand downward.

Shraaaap.

The ground split open in a clean curved line, a razor-smooth trench carved into the hardened training soil. Tom, watching from the far end, nearly dropped the cloth he was folding.

Lucas exhaled, satisfied but not content.

"Again."

He raised both hands this time. Spatial energy thickened around him, tugging faintly at his clothes and hair as though the world was trying to readjust itself. Lucas thrust his hands forward.

Reality trembled.

A pulse burst out, warping the space ahead of him. The air twisted, forming a bubble-like distortion that expanded outward. The nearby training posts creaked as if compressed by invisible pressure.

Lucas snapped his fingers.

The bubble imploded silently.

Everything within its radius shook violently for a breath’s time, then stilled.

Tom’s voice cracked from the sidelines. "M-my lord... is that... normal?"

Lucas smirked faintly. "For me? It’s getting there."

He wasn’t done.

He closed his eyes again, pushing deeper into the power within him. He reached for a technique.

Spatial Step.

He channeled energy to his feet, letting the world blur around them.

"Move."

His figure flickered...vanished...then reappeared ten meters away in a blink. The wind snapped against his clothes from the sudden displacement.

Tom gasped. "My lord...!"

Lucas reappeared back where he had started without giving Tom a chance to finish his sentence. He wiped a thin bead of sweat from his temple.

His spatial control was still rusty, but it was coming back to him. The ascendant rank had deepened his connection to the element significantly.

He lifted his hand one last time, attempting something harder.

A tear in space itself.

He concentrated intensely. A slight frown formed between his brows as he forced his energy into a single point... denser... heavier... sharper...

A dark line cracked open in the air...just a thin slit, but undeniable. A pocket of void peered through before sealing shut with a soft thrum.

Lucas lowered his hand slowly, breathing hard but steady.

"Yes," he murmured. "This... I can use."

He stood in the center of the training ground, the morning breeze brushing past him, and allowed a small, confident smile to form.

If his enemies thought they understood his limits...

They were about to discover how wrong they were.

Over the next few days, Lucas pushed himself relentlessly. Each morning began with meditation to steady the violent churn of Qi within him, and each afternoon was dedicated entirely to the training grounds. The space around him twisted, folded, and cracked as he forced his Ascendant-ranked body to adapt to the growing demands of spatial manipulation.

Tom came by occasionally...usually carrying water, snacks, or just checking in.

"Master... you’re really pushing yourself," Tom muttered once, eyes wide as Lucas disappeared and reappeared behind him without warning.

Lucas only smirked. "If I can’t use space to its full potential... I’ll be useless against the celestials."

By the fourth day, Tom stopped being shocked and simply nodded with the resigned acceptance of a man who had grown used to witnessing impossible things.

Finally, after countless repetitions, sweat, and exhaustion bordering on collapse, Lucas stood in the center of the training ground and exhaled slowly.

He could feel it...his mastery had risen significantly.

Not perfect. Not complete. But enough.

Enough to test in real combat.

He straightened himself. The sun was already dipping behind the palace walls, painting everything in warm gold. Tomorrow was the alchemic meeting. A gathering of experts, sages, and suspicious nobles...and the perfect opportunity to observe, learn, and potentially demonstrate his new concoctions.

And, more importantly...

He needed to meet Sage Raph.

Lucas dusted off his hands, his training robes torn and scorched from repeated spatial ruptures.

"Tom!" he called.

Tom, who had been dozing on a wooden bench nearby, snapped awake. "Y-Yes, Master?!"

"We’re done here. I need to prepare for tomorrow."

Tom nodded eagerly. "Right away!"

As they walked back toward the inner palace, Lucas’s expression hardened.

Tomorrow would set many things in motion.

And he intended to be ready.

Lucas turned to Tom as they entered his chamber. "We’ll be going together tomorrow, So prepare what you need. We’ll only be gone a few days."

Tom straightened, nodding quickly. "Understood, Master."

The room was quieter than usual. Lucas glanced around...the Ice Belle wasn’t anywhere in sight. No cool, silent figure sitting by the window. No faint trace of her frosty Qi.

"She’s probably with one of the girls," Lucas murmured, "or raiding the palace kitchens again."

Tom chuckled nervously. "She does seem to like food a lot..."

They began sorting through the items they needed for the trip...Lucas’s robes, a few scrolls, the sealed box of war chemicals, and a selection of herbs he intended to bring to Sage Raph.

In the middle of their preparations, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

A servant stopped at the entrance, bowed deeply, and held out a sealed envelope bearing the Highmoor crest.

"Lord Xavier... His Majesty requests your presence immediately."

Lucas accepted the message without opening it...he already knew it meant the same thing.

The King never called without reason.

He exhaled quietly. "I understand."

Tom looked up, startled. "You’re going to the throne room?"

"Mm." Lucas set down the robe he was folding. "Finish the packing. I’ll be back shortly."

"Yes, Master."

Lucas stepped out of the chamber, closing the door behind him.