“What? You want to break it apart?” Sarey asked in surprise as she heard him. Although she knew the truth behind this piece of cloth, she was not willing to admit it to Allan.

 

“Yes. It is not so ordinary after all. 36 confirmed it in our brief exchange in the past. There is some very incredible stuff inside.” Allan found some believable and small lie to say to her. He did not lie as much.

 

“Alright, go for it. Or do you need my help?” She smiled.

 

“So he really did not see me.” She thought to herself.

 

“If you tell me if there are some changes on it, while I will be hammering into it. I want you to see if I can do something to it.” Allan says.

 

“Alright.” She agreed.

 

Allan rested the piece of cloth on an anvil and took a gray and shinny-looking hammer into his hand. Not like its visual clarity or style mattered to him, but he could tell this was a good hammer. A size of around half a meter, and a heavy hammerhead, which was tightly secured with a wooden handle he could not guess without his eyes.

 

 

No change, but he kept going. There was no spark or destroyed emblem. The cloth was only further destroyed, as there was no change within the cracked hammer emblem.

 

“You will destroy your bandanna with this,” Sarey said with concern.

 

“I can tell it's hardly wearable even before I first hammered it. At this point, it is a memorial of what my father left me. I swear there is nothing more to this.” He said the truth while being completely unconcerned by Sarey, who already knew about it.

 

After failing numerous times, Allan moved to another idea. Using a steel wedge in the process of hammering for better handling and destruction through the already made crack. Allan used such things with the processing of wood or by stonemasons.

 

He did not know what sort of material the hammer emblem is made of, but it was durable. He couldn't tell much, but he could at least try. 36 words did not stop him from doing what he wanted.

 

Light from the lanterns kept the smithy going until the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Sounds of work could be heard from the stable, but it could still be heard all the way into the main house.

 

Zigmund was sitting in his office with his bare legs on the table. Only a thin robe around his body remained. He took a quick bath to calm himself down. His body was littered with old wounds and scars. It did not look that bad. In the contrast, it shows his well-built body besides his older appearance. He kept the old sword in his hand and glanced at it in nostalgia as he rested.

 

“Plenty of time passed. I wonder if this was my fate or not. What if I was able to accompany my elder brother to that sect? I wonder where I would end up?” He muttered beneath his now clean and shaved face. He regained some years, at least visibly.

 

“Secrets. Secrets. Secrets... They are just small means of things that we are all afraid to share. I have plenty of them myself. If those two will make some sort of big mistake with whatever they are doing, will I regret it? I wonder...”

 

“Contacting the elder brother is by no means passable in this case. They could have discovered some fortune through that strange act of theirs.”

 

Zigmund considered Sarey’s act and Allan as a whole. He was against none of this right now. He initially wanted to talk to Sarey about the things he had seen them do, but it could have angered his daughter for sure. Although Zigmund could live with that. There was nothing else there than trying to help them from the side. Getting too personal was not his style.

 

“Should I consider teaching him some fighting methods? I was not considered a very talented soldier, but I had plenty of experience in other things. While I never taught anyone before, it is not hard at all. Sparing with the boys was a regular thing to do on the military basis.”

 

“Ahhh... Screw this. What else is the worst? Doing it halfway or all out?” He slammed his blade on his desk with its dull side.

 

“Time is in no hurry. I will figure out something, once, Allan will take some shape. Yes…..Yes….Yes. Yes.” He muttered with half-open lips as he fell into deep thoughts. His hands crossed on his chest where were some more hidden scars from more wounds. Sarey had never seen them before.

 

Outside, in the building beside the cottage, Allan kept his pace all this time. He felt the hammer in his hand. It filled him with energy with each swing, but there was no progress.

 

“I think this is enough. Have you even done today's training?” Sarey asked from a corner of the room. She already figured there was no point in this.

 

“Apart from running.” He said honestly.

 

“Whatever, forget about this. It is probably not a material of this world.”

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“I just do.” Sarey mistakenly said something she didn’t mean to say. To this day, they kept Allan in a dark about any of that fortune hidden around his arrival. Sarey and Zigmund both agreed that there was no point in seeking answers for that. What if there aren’t any? And since Allan had no recollection from his previous, honest words, what sort of better options are there? None.

 

She thought of trying metallic shards, what she has seen in that small pile that her father hid away. It resembled a spike or a wedge. Perhaps that was something extraordinary as well, or a weapon.

 

“Hmmm. I will try to heat treat it tomorrow. There could be some change where the heat will change its structure.” Allan finally gave up and took the emblem into his hand. It felt the same as before. Cold with the normal structure of a metal. It had no distinct smell or anything that could help him out.

 

He remembered the moment he got it from Skoll. As well as the two crossed hammers in Clayton’s hidden base. There could be a lot of secrets about this, being not from a mortal world. Allan was sure about it since he saw that ball of fire in his father’s hands. It left him with a deep impression. As if it was speaking to him.

 

There was now nothing else to do but go to sleep. Allan had not so ordinary day at all, but he was hardly a tired man.

 

After waking up in the darkness, he found some strange things about himself. Only some distinct feelings and emotions. His tiredness was almost nonexistent now, even after staying up late, and working out early. Yet, he could feel the need for sleep.

 

His muscles and body felt also somewhat different from those in the past. As if he was a bit bigger now. There was no point in asking around since there was no one around who had seen him before. He could only check himself through his touch, but he felt nothing strange apart from slowly gaining some muscles while also getting somewhat thinner. It was strange, but Sarey was in an unknown about that as well.

 

Allan thought it was all a conflict between his training, as well as the 36 methods of acupoints. Knowing a little about it, he assume he was right. Yet, he did not even know that he did not start the proper immortal technique yet.

 

Allan and Sarey moved to their respective beds. Allan went over his exchange with Zigmund.

 

In his mind, he visualized the moves. It was the only thing he could seek out, and understand since he was there all alone. No one could disturb his imagination and seemingly valid experience within his mind. He could try strategies and overthink all he wanted.

 

The word about the human body returned to him, too. There was something completely different from what he understood now.

 

If there is a body, there are always external effects. Such as weapons. For example, the swords are ancient beyond belief, yet they kept the humanity on edges of wars since time immemorial. That was something he wanted to ask 36 on his next summoning. He kept fighting the surrounding darkness until he fell asleep.

 

Worries of the last day could always wait for tomorrow or be forgotten in the concerns of the future.

---

 

In darkness.

 

Not so ordinary, yet very mysterious. A floating ship in space was drifting alone as if it was on a never-ending journey.

 

Inside, in one particular room. 36 was contemplating more about his decisions. Books and scrolls here scattered around the table. He did not look at them as he knew them very well by now.

 

He finished the first draft of the compilation of Allan's technique. Something that he called The True Technique of the Body. There could always be some changes that could be added to it, yet he still figured out that Allan would need more than just this.

 

Although the time would show more. He overdid himself with this because he did not know anything better himself. 36 made something that would not be universally accepted and usable. Allan could very well be included in this as well, but 36 is unsure.

 

36 would soon learn about the way of training in different ways. He was used to orthodox methods but was forced to do this. He made up his mind about it a long time ago. The same as Allan did.

 

“How to train someone from mortal realms towards the power that is on par with energy users? The Unmoving technique will help a little, that I am sure of. The more ridiculous ideas will give rise to requirements and dangers included. It is not very safe to make him go through it. He is in no way, similar to me and my experience. Techniques are important, as well as body, state of mind, and steady flow of experience. How should I go about this, if I have a limited amount of time?”

 

“I can't train him. That is not about this at all. I wish I knew more about the past teacher in the same boat as me.” 36 shouted in frustration.

 

“Question verified. Answers are non-summarized. An additional question is needed.” Voice of unknown spread abruptly within the room. It sounded monotone and dull. With no life in its tone.

 

“What? It is back like this? Why is sound so strange each time it comes back? I wished for some information which is the most likely the reason for it.” 36 wondered in his mind. This was rather unexpected since he had already forgotten about this voice.

 

“Fine. I wish to know the summary of the last being who gained the freedom.”

 

Voice fell silent for a few minutes. Shimmering and buzzing tones could be heard instead.

 

After a while, hard to hear noises of some sort of language talked in bluntly confusing words.

 

“What in the demon is going on?” 36 floated in the middle of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

A few words were distinguishable. The rest of it was not.

 

“Lighting lord? Rank 2? Shit, they even got a hold of such powerful people? It could hardly compare me to them. Does it mean there are some ways to free myself if I was more powerful?”

 

It was not a wrong assumption what 36 guessed. There were stages upon stages between respective pathways. The majority of them shared common first names, which then could be intersected with a nickname or the name of an immortal.

 

Some individuals did not like that and rather named themselves by their nature, or straight up made up their name on their own.

 

It was a vast and hectic world. 36 lived for tens of thousands of years already, but he did not reach the far apex. The place among the many legends in the Central region. A place known as The Above.

 

Only the most distinguished being could get hold of it and know more about it. It is unknown to all beings, and only the chosen, or curious enough beings, could get to know about it. 36 is the former. An individual, a curious insect of a demonic pathway. The Above is within an unknown space, within the very center of the universe, and that is about all he knows.

 

“That leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I bet such a person had unfathomable experience and skill.”

 

“A divine sect of Demonic path... It sounds familiar to me, yet I am not sure. It is something beyond me, as their member was able to get 2 orbs.” 36 thought out loud. A voice from before disappeared with swirling shimmers. Gone from this place by itself, or with the request of 36 who haven't even noticed that he lost no years this time around.

 

And it surely wasn't a piece of information like the last time, when he asked about the basic botany, which could be learned almost everywhere for free.

 

Time passes, and his revolving head, which is not so bright between his ghostly shoulders, came to this realization after some time.

 

“This is quite interesting. I can almost certainly assume that this information is tremendously restricted. Who in their minds would not restrict the information about the Lords? Especially if they are successful beings who gained freedom and previously was a prisoner. Who in their right mind would consider a Lord a freaking prisoner? Those monsters can eat up planets on their own, destroy, and even remodel their own. Freaking demons... another weird piece of the puzzle within this horrible space.”

 

This, in itself, did not bother 36, too much, since this means nothing much in the present or the future. It was knowledge, that broadened the massive surprise.

 

If he cared too much, it could affect him a lot in his thinking and processing of the information. There was no place for worry and he wouldn't seek out the tongue of a gifted horse. These coincidences were advantageous, as well as completely unrelated to the current him. He would not stick his hands where they shouldn't be.

 

“Good. Good. If I can gain more information, that are restricted. The Wisher is something I will need to access. What changes will it give me, since sooner rather than later, I need to get free? I am still in danger, according to that woman's warnings.”

 

36's worries were absolutely in a right place. There was incoming danger, but it was not something he could find out. There were not a whole lot of reasons to believe the words of that woman, but it was an issue that dug deep into the personality of 36 that he could not shake from his mind.

 

She was, after all, in a similar situation as him.

 

Unknown to 36, there is a pair of dark, black, round eyes within the ceiling of the room. Shadowy, and nonphysical, it seeks the bellow with a constant stare at 36 who could not sense it. A shadowy smile crept under the eyes, before disappearing after hearing what it wants.

 

There was nothing on the ceiling in a flick within a blink.