SSS Ranked Awakening: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 698: The Core She Wants

Seraphine’s sword reached the target, and the light arrived late.

She stopped with the blade against the practice post. A narrow scorch marked the place where lightning had struck; the following cut had bitten a finger’s width away from it.

Against a stationary post, both attacks had landed. Against something moving, the second could have missed altogether.

”Again,” she muttered.

She released the partial compression in her circulation. The next attempt left a single clean mark.

Six weeks into her preparation, she could reproduce the problem whenever she wanted. Solving it had proved less accommodating.

The eastern flat inside the dimensional world gave her plenty of room to work. Xyra had established the accelerated boundary with no more effort than Leon might spend opening a door. Beyond the practice ground stood a small shelter, a table for her records, and a bench that Ira had claimed on her first visit.

Seraphine set her sword down and recorded the density of the trial.

The tracewire silver was doing what she had chosen it for. It supported compression without imposing a fixed pace. Her own circulation, however, grew less willing to change direction as she drew it tighter.

Straight thrusts remained fast. The Eighth Form did not.

That movement began with lightning, then followed the same attack with light as she turned her wrist. She liked it because an opponent could commit to avoiding the first strike and still be caught by the second. Under compression, the transition gave them longer to recover.

She tried it once more, then caught herself reaching for the testing array again.

Eat first. Loriel will ask.

A covered dish waited in the shelter. Ira had left a note beneath it assuring her that she had only taken one dumpling.

There were three empty places in the dish.

Seraphine ate the rest while reading yesterday’s measurements.

The household visited without crowding her. Loriel checked her circulation regularly and had already persuaded her to take two days off when a junction became tender under repeated compression.

Seraphine had resented the interruption until she returned to find she could distinguish changes she had stopped noticing while tired.

Vyra helped arrange her records so that failed trials were as easy to find as successful ones.

”Write why you rejected it,” she said, tapping a blank column. ”Otherwise you’ll try the same thing again and be annoyed with yourself.”

Seraphine had already done that twice. She filled in the column.

Ira brought food and news of her own preparations. One afternoon she spent so long complaining about an uncooperative mineral that Seraphine laughed until her stomach hurt. It was a pleasant change from thinking about the same fraction of a second.

When Leon visited, she showed him the marks on the practice post.

He asked her to repeat the movement slowly, then watched the corresponding return through the testing plate.

”They’re arriving together here,” he said, indicating the narrowest junction. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

”They always have.”

”And there’s less room under compression.” He moved his finger away. ”I ran into something similar with the Scripture. Changing when the branches returned helped more than forcing them through faster.”

Seraphine studied the plate. ”You staggered them.”

”Some of them. The arrangement changed with demand.” He glanced at her notes. ”Yours won’t need to work like mine, but you could test whether the timing is part of the problem.”

She wanted to reach for the array immediately. Instead, she asked him to stay while she repeated the original trial. If she was going to change the return, she wanted to be certain what it was doing first.

Over the following weeks, Seraphine tested light returning ahead of lightning, then behind it, then at different intervals as compression increased.

The first improvement was small enough that she distrusted it. She repeated the trial after resting, changed her starting stance, and tried the same timing through a different sword form.

It held.

By the end of the second month, she had a range of workable intervals and a clear understanding of what happened when she chose badly. Too little separation crowded the return. Too much left her feeding the next movement unevenly.

One trial carried the first cut perfectly and weakened the second. Another worked when she began from rest but failed after a retreating step. She kept those records beside the successes, marking the circumstances rather than blaming her footwork and moving on. In a fight, she would not always have the stance she wanted. The circulation had to answer from the one she actually had.

She could feel the difference in her wrist before the testing plate displayed it.

That pleased her more than the clean readings. Her swordsmanship had begun long before she learned this world’s circulation, and she had no intention of treating those years of experience as something to discard.

Much of her fighting had been shaped by protecting someone behind her. She knew how to leave room to retreat, how to turn an attack aside without committing her whole body, how to notice a threat that was not aimed at her.

The Eighth Form was a movement she enjoyed for its own sake.

She remembered the satisfaction of first making its second cut land where she wanted. Even alone on the practice ground, she had smiled afterward.

I’m keeping that.

Her next trial was clean. So was the one after it.

She spent several more days testing at low output, where it was easier to overlook an uneven return. Only when those results matched did she prepare for condensation.

Early in the third month, Seraphine sat inside the array with her sword resting within reach.

There was nothing it could help her cut. She had put it there anyway.

Loriel finished checking the circulation and withdrew. Leon waited near the shelter, far enough away to leave her space. When Seraphine looked toward him, he raised a hand.

She returned the gesture, closed her eyes, and began.

Her Qi Sea drew inward under steady pressure. She guided the prepared dawnspar energy through her lightning and light circulation while the refined tracewire supported the compression. Beneath the gathering energy, her foundation platform contracted toward the forming Core Embryo.

She followed the sequence she had rehearsed, adjusting the return intervals as density increased.

For a time, every change matched her records.

Then crystallization began.

The return tightened more quickly than it had in any partial trial. Light cleared the junction, but lightning reached it before the previous flow had fully passed. Seraphine felt the familiar hesitation through the movement she was holding in her mind.

She steadied the compression without letting it reverse.

Her next breath came carefully. The Core could finish at the present timing; the circulation remained sound. But the delay would be built into the result, and correcting it afterward would be far harder.

She knew which adjustment had worked in her trials. What she did not yet know was how far the interval would need to widen at the final density.

A little at a time. You know what an uneven return feels like.

Seraphine moved the light forward by the smallest amount she could control.

The first crystalline layer trembled around the change. She held the embryo steady, waited for the return, and felt the path begin to clear.

Now she had to bring the lightning through without losing it.