As Emmet stepped out of the private quarters, the air felt thick with tension, which he immediately dismissed as residual grogginess. He found Jasper meticulously sharpening his sword, the rhythmic shnnk-shnnk of metal on stone the only sound in the area.
"Good morning, sleepy head. It's been two days since you collapsed," Jasper greeted him without looking up, his focus absolute.
"You mean I slept for the entire two days?" Emmet mused, running a hand through his hair. He conceded to himself that he must have truly needed the total, unconscious rest—perhaps the sheer power drain from his last battle had caused the collapse. "Where are the others?" he asked.
"Cliff went out somewhere," Jasper replied, testing the blade's edge with a thumb. "Said he was going to find good food to celebrate his return."
Emmet looked at Jasper, noticing something subtly—and then less subtly—odd. Jasper seemed buffer. A shade taller, his shoulders broader and tighter than Emmet remembered. He dismissed it for a moment, blaming his still-hazy senses.
Just then, Cliff came floating in, gliding two feet off the ground, effortlessly carrying two massive, dead wild boars slung over his back. He didn't just walk in; he drifted, his aerial control seemingly refined to the point of subconscious ease. "Ey, Jasper! Do something with these! I want us to feast like kings for once."
Cliff finally noticed Emmet. He dropped the boars with a heavy, earth-shaking thud that cracked the thin layer of soil directly beneath them. A cloud of dust rose. "Oh, Master, you're finally awake. Great. Now I have to play slave again." The tone was dripping with forced resignation.
Emmet smiled, entirely unbothered. "Good morning to you too, obnoxious disciple. I need to fix her core before I run out of Rend Crystals."
Jasper lowered his sword, his confusion clear. "Master? Disciple? What’s with the sudden endearment?"
Cliff scowled. "He forced me to become his slave—" He suddenly doubled over, a visible, low-level electric shock running through his body, causing his muscles to seize and leaving him momentarily stiff.
"That’s right," Emmet confirmed, a look of satisfied ownership on his face. "The original binding process and the previous battle have drained me severely, which is why I was out for two days. But don't worry, Cliff, you are still on my leash. Where is Lenka? I need to address this new development first."
"Lenka has been right here," Jasper said, pointing to his own shadow, which seemed to writhe almost imperceptibly. The shadow then gently contracted back into Jasper’s form, communicating Lenka’s patient reliance on his proximity.
Emmet focused on the shifting dark shape. "Oh, Lenka. Good morning. I’m sorry it took me so long to return." Jasper’s shadow shifted, making a slight hand motion—a gesture of understanding and acceptance.
Emmet glanced at Cliff again. I wasn't mistaken. He stepped closer to Cliff and began inspecting his arm muscles, legs, and even his sculpted abs, poking him inquisitively.
"What are you doing, Master?" Cliff asked, puffing out his chest and trying to look even larger. "Have you finally noticed how good-looking and buffed I am?"
"Well, yes," Emmet said, retracting his hand. "I thought I was wrong about Jasper looking taller and bigger, but now I can confirm that you two have gotten the same result. The muscle mass is significant."
"What are you talking about?" Jasper and Cliff asked in bewildered unison.
"It must be the result of the Rend-Link," Emmet declared, his voice rising in scientific excitement.
"Rend-Link?" they echoed, staring blankly.
Emmet replied, "It's just a term I used. After fixing your cores with my own Rend, it seems you two are somehow connected to me. Cliff, do you feel physically stronger now?"
"Now that you ask, I felt it the moment I came to," Cliff admitted, his bravado fading into genuine realization. "When I hunted those wild boars, it felt frighteningly easy to carry them, and before, I was having trouble carrying even one. My footing feels unnaturally solid, too."
Jasper confirmed Cliff's experience, gripping the hilt of his sword so hard the leather wrapping audibly groaned. "I noticed the change, too. I thought I had just gained some sudden enlightenment during your rest."
"This is a great discovery!" Emmet exclaimed, barely finishing his sentence before he excitedly turned and rushed back into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Jasper and Cliff watched the door, exchanging glances that held a shared sentiment of bewilderment. "Weirdo," they muttered together.
Inside his room, Emmet’s mind raced, propelled by the new data. His own strength hadn’t declined at all; in fact, the process of Rend-Linking must have benefited them. There was clearly more to discover about his Rend ability. Now that he had a clearer, more defined understanding of his Forge, he felt he could finally map his overall Divinity, skill, and other peculiarities.
The man he called Mr. Black had once said the "Forge" was a parasite that helped humans evolve, yet the forge had evolved itself instead of evolving him. Perhaps it couldn't corrupt or affect him due to his inherent peculiarity, and had simply backfired on its own parasitic objective.
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Emmet quickly meditated, accessing his inner world. There, the components were visible: the two corrupted Totem Essences linked with his Rend, his inert Elemental Divine Core, and the Forge itself—a constantly whirring, converting, and refining machine. He now understood that the Forge was the Divine Parasite’s final, beneficial form, allowing him to create pure Rend energy from raw Demon energy.
He tried to refine a Demon Crystal, observing the entire process. He forced the dark, thick energy through the "Forge," and as it came out as polished Rend, he felt it pass through him, a physical sensation on a non-physical plane. Wait a minute, he thought, scrutinizing the process. The finished product, the Rend, felt like a fundamental, proprietary part of his being. He examined the Forge further, realizing it had permanently become attached to him—like an exact, spiritual image of his soul was imprinted upon it.
That explains it. The Rend isn't just refined Demonic energy; it’s energy tainted by my own soul. This signature, this imprint, was why he felt he could control the Rend absolutely, weaving it as if it were an extension of his own will. This is a great discovery. A true breakthrough.
When he fixed Jasper’s and Cliff’s Divine Cores using his Rend, it had essentially linked them to his soul's signature. Was that why they had gained his intrinsic, foundational strength? Marvelous. A rush of speculative energy coursed through him. If their physical forms were enhanced by my soul, was I now reciprocally tied to their unique abilities? Did I inherit Jasper's bone skill, or Cliff's unique aerial control?
Emmet left his inner world just enough to flex his arm, then immediately dove back in, this time to study the subtle Rend energy linking him to Cliff and Jasper. He could see a faint, luminous schematic of Jasper’s hyper-dense skeletal system and Cliff’s uniquely evolved lungs at the nexus point. As he observed these structures, he felt a sudden, profound shift in his own physical reality. His control over his own bones sharpened, granting him an unprecedented sense of skeletal stability—as if his frame had become denser, stronger, and more powerful. Simultaneously, his lungs felt incredibly efficient, making his body feel remarkably lighter despite the increase in physical strength.
This is the effect of the Rend-Link, he realized, and he needed to test it. He reached out with his conscious will, not to invade, but simply to tap the energy flow.
In the real world, Cliff and Jasper suddenly shared a brief, internal sensation—a gentle thrum deep in their cores, like a harmonic resonance or a forgotten switch being flipped inside them. They paused, exchanging a look. It wasn't painful, invasive, or alarming, just a clear, momentary sign of a profound connection to a central power. They felt a dizzying surge of borrowed stability, then the feeling settled. They knew instinctively that whatever it was, it came from Emmet.
Back in his inner world, Emmet smiled, satisfied. "Ah, so this is the Rend Network." He confirmed that the connections were two-way but strictly central: Cliff to Emmet and Jasper to Emmet. Cliff and Jasper were connected only through him, the nucleus. The empty spot reserved for his Divine Essence was now the Rend Network's core, a web of Rend fibers containing the small icons of the skeleton and the lung—the clear representations of the connection, and now, he has inherited it.
The Rend was the functional product of the Forge, his soul, and Demon energy. But what about his Elemental Divine Core? He still couldn't access it properly without the Totems, and even then, he needed Rend energy to activate them. It was a potential he couldn’t seize. Judging from his previous battle, he hadn't been able to maximize the Totems since he had to keep conserving Rend energy.
If his true power now was his Rend energy, then he needed to capitalize on and maximize its utility.
The answer lay in the Forge’s function: conversion and refinement.
Emmet began to map out a grand theory, analyzing his three components not as a whole, but as necessary, warring elements for a new singularity:
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The Elemental Divine Core: The Unmoving Center (Law). A fragment of perfect, immutable law—a stable idea with no inherent means of expression.
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The Earth Totem Essence: The Unyielding Foundation (Substance). The physical medium that holds shape and permanence.
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The Fire Totem Essence: The Catalyst of Change (Force). Pure energy, the spark needed to make the rigid pliable.
Inspired by this necessary alignment, he realized the original idea of the 'Forge' was incomplete. The Forge—the whirring machine that converted demon energy into Rend—was not a tool, but the entire system, the very Foundry of his soul.
The tool, the active force, must be the energy itself. The Rend, imbued with his own will and soul-signature, was the Hammer. What he lacked was the stable surface for that action.
He took decisive action in his inner world, initiating a process that was part ritual, part engineering. The theory demanded that the three broken forces (Core, Earth, Fire) be fused into a new, singular, functional entity: The Anvil.
The Convergent Ritual: "Forging the Foundation"
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Internalization: With a monumental effort of will, he drew the Earth and Fire Totem essences into his Divine Core, forcing them to violently coexist at his center—a momentary, volatile state like containing a miniature star within a flawed crystal. Internally, a flash of geological gold battled solar white before settling into a deep, humming blackness.
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The Conceptual Strike: Using his consciousness to wield the newly conceptualized Rend-as-Hammer, he delivered a metaphysical 'strike' upon this unstable triad. A colossal, silent GONG echoed through his consciousness. This was not a physical action, but an act of supreme mental command, the psychic force of his soul demanding: "BE THE FOUNDATION."
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The Convergence: Under this immense internal pressure, the three pillars were forced to violently reconcile their warring natures. The Earth provided the necessary fixed structure for the Core's form. The Fire provided the raw, binding energy to fuse them. The Core provided the divine, permanent law that made the union stable.
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The Manifestation: His visualization became the reality. The image in his inner world solidified: his soul-version, the master craftsman, guided the Rend-as-Hammer's impact, and the Anvil—dense, black, and radiating a quiet, immense power—was being formed beneath it. He was the smith, overseeing the creation of his own divine structure within the Forge-as-Foundry.
In the real world, Emmet’s floating, cross-legged body began to glow with a contained, intense amber light. The air in the room felt impossibly heavy, yet utterly still, as his body created the impossible: a new, self-governing divine structure deep within his being—the creation of the Divine Anvil.
The light faded. The era of the Totem Master was over. Emmet had a fully integrated set: his Forge (the Foundry), his Rend (the Hammer), and his Divine Anvil (the Foundation). The Totems were no more; they had merged with his broken Divine Core and transformed into the immovable, operational Divine Anvil. His shadow, cast on the floor, seemed impossibly fixed and deep, reflecting the Anvil's new, immovable law-like nature.
He opened his eyes, a new being entirely. He was no longer a master of fragmented elements, but the sovereign creator of his own power: the Smith of Rend. "It is done."