Chapter 102: Forging the Connection
The underground training chamber beneath Volundr's estate hummed with suppressed energy. Enchanted walls absorbed stray magic, casting faint glows as Caelum stepped into the center of the arena. The ground was smooth obsidian—perfect for channeling power, and for failure to leave a mark.
Volundr stood on the raised platform, arms behind his back, eyes locked on Caelum.
"You felt it last night. The Aether Frame isn't just a tool—it's part of you. Today, we see how well you two understand each other."
Caelum nodded, though nervousness gripped his chest. The gauntlets from the previous night shimmered back into existence, forming seamlessly over his hands. He could feel them now—reacting to the pulse of his thoughts, his emotions, his very breath.
Volundr raised a hand and released a pulse of mana that activated floating glyphs around the room. Arcane circles shimmered to life, forming barriers and illusions—setting the stage for Caelum's test.
"Form your first construct. Focus on intent. Shape what you need, not what you want."
Caelum closed his eyes, heart thundering. He visualized a blade—simple, functional, something to defend himself with. The gauntlets flared, and from each wrist, light bled forward like molten glass. In seconds, it hardened into a crude sword—unrefined, jagged, glowing with an unstable inner core.
From his left hand, a rounded shield of faintly humming energy took shape, shifting slightly with each heartbeat. They were far from perfect—more like prototypes than true weapons—but they were real.
Then came the doubt.
Flashes of his past—the sterile labs, the cold touch of priests, the pain of failed light control—rushed forward. The constructs trembled. The sword elongated unpredictably, while the shield flickered with erratic sparks.
"Caelum! Steady your thoughts! The gear mirrors you—calm it, or it will collapse!"
Caelum tried to focus, but panic gnawed at him. The constructs surged in response, violently expanding before bursting into motes of light. The backlash knocked him off his feet, sending him skidding across the floor.
Volundr sighed, but it wasn't with disappointment—it was recognition. He stepped forward, crouched beside Caelum, and offered his hand.
"This Sacred Gear isn't like others. It doesn't just channel your power—it's balancing you. It's not resisting your light. It's trying to protect you from it."
Caelum blinked, stunned
"So... it knows how dangerous I am?"
"No," Volundr said with a faint smile. "It knows how worthy you are—if you're willing to trust it."
They resumed training after a short rest. This time, Caelum formed a new blade—less jagged, more defined.
He let his breath guide the flow, and the result was a compact sword with a glowing white edge and a pulse that matched his own.
The shield reformed too—rounder, tighter, and no longer unstable. As he took a defensive stance, Caelum could feel the constructs responding to his emotional rhythm.
When he believed, they strengthened. When he doubted, they cracked.
Volundr watched closely, noting the reactive quality of Aether Frame.
"This gear isn't just evolving off battle experience. It's syncing with your growth—emotional, mental, and magical."
For Caelum, the realization was both terrifying and liberating. His power wasn't something to fear anymore. It was something to shape. And for the first time, he felt the first true step toward mastery—not of his Sacred Gear, but of himself.