Tier 3+ - Accidental Champion (Book 7) - Chapter 23 - Universal Pressure

For an entire year within the time dilation field at the Roving Seed Base, Xavier felt confident suspending his instruction of his students to pursue his goal of mastering—at least to a degree—Pocket Time Stream.

This was the only period in which Xavier stopped participating in their shared meals. Gaining proficiency for himself would only help him guide the others toward gaining the same, and they didn’t resent nor mind that he would essentially be in seclusion for this time. They had each grown to understand him far better over the years.

The others didn’t stop training, either, but they did take more time for their own projects, something that ended up paying dividends by the end of that year.

And so, Xavier repeated his routine over and over again and over again, relishing the challenge.

He would draw the pattern, activate and initiate the spell, and endure the pressure it caused to every part of him. All his focus whittled down toward the one task of keeping the pattern initiated for as long as possible.

It took weeks for him to make the first bit of progress, pushing the use of the spell from a single second to three seconds in the space of a month. That might not sound like a long time, but he’d basically tripled the power of the spell pattern.

The pressure, however, was another story. The amount of pressure on him didn’t budge at all. In fact, it increased, to the point where he’d had to start taking longer and longer breaks. As he rested, he meditated, looking deeply inward, examining every part of him, trying to discover what it was that pressure was actually doing to him.

This proved to be a difficult task.

The exhaustion he felt after using the spell pattern was something apart from what he felt after enduring the pressure. The exhaustion, he found, was caused by the spell being so much more powerful than any he’d ever used before. The ability to reach into another universe and connect him to it required a lot from him and was the reason he could only maintain the spell for such short periods.

But that exhaustion eased far more quickly than the effects, the damage, the pressure was causing him.

The pressure attacked something deep within him. Yes, it attacked his mind, his cores, his body, and even his soul. But the damage those received was actually easier for him to heal the longer he experienced the pressure. His body, mind, soul. His channels, his cores. They had been hardened against this pressure now.

There was something else at work here, as despite the fact that he would heal and recover from the exhaustion of using the spell, and the damage the pressure did to him, more easily as time went on, it was consistently taking him longer to muster up the energy to redraw and use the pattern.

When he’d done this in the Arakashinai Queen’s chamber, he had barely taken an opportunity to think on what the pressure was or what it was doing to him. Now, he’d had a very long time to think about it, well before he encountered it again, and he had ten people with whom to talk about it with.

Eight of those people were still actually alive. The other two, Rhaalir and Bones, had each been alive a lot longer than all the living inhabitants of the Roving Seed Base put together before they’d met their end and became the spirits they were.

Eventually, they came up with a name for the pressure. Xavier, in the memory he’d relived countless times now, had felt what that pressure did to the fabric of reality back when it had shattered his cores and more besides. The pressure had punched a hole in reality. Not a big one, but one just large enough to let something from somewhere else enter.

Part of the reason he’d theorised for the pressure being able to punch a hole through reality like that was because of the centration of soul apparitions coupled with the draw on the universe’s energy all happening in one spot. The pressure was too much not just for Xavier, but the walls of the universe in that place.

That something that entered that universe was Reality Energy. Obtaining that had been a very lucky opportunity, and that was putting things lightly. Without Reality Energy, he never would have been able to create a Reality Core, advance to Tier 2, or create his artificial cores that allowed him to cast spells like a normal Denizen again.

Because of what that pressure did, and how spell patterns gained their power in the first place—from the universe itself—they coined the term Universal Pressure.

Their theory as to why this particular spell pattern, Pocket Time Stream, was causing Universal Pressure to happen at all was twofold: First, because the spell was able to transcend this universe and connect to another, just as souls were able to transcend universes; and second, because the spell required more power than Xavier was able to provide.

This theory implied that in order to reduce the pressure on Xavier, he would simply need to become more powerful. While becoming more powerful was already his intention, it wouldn’t help him exploit spell patterns in a safe manner like he had when he’d killed the Arakashinai Queen in one what amounted to a single glorious attack, so it wasn’t the solution he needed to this particular problem.

When Xavier hit this wall, unable to find out what the pressure was doing to him himself or with the help of those around him, he finally caved and reached out to someone who might know what was happening.

He executed the original plan that he’d had when he’d returned to Earth and finally used Otherworldly Communion. He once more had the spell in his arsenal, but as that spell took so very long to reach the end of its cooldown without a level up he instead decided to summon a spirit with the use of a spell pattern—and he was successful.

Xavier had drawn both the Pocket Time Stream spell pattern and the Otherworldly Communion spell pattern one after the other. Then, he’d initiated the former first. At this time, six months into his journey to master the spell, he was able to maintain it for a full minute—a dramatic increase from where he’d started.

But the pressure maintaining it for a minute caused him forced him to recover for a full three days afterward. The longer he held the spell pattern active, the more time the pressure had to work on him.

When Xavier was thirty seconds into the full minute he could hold the pattern going for, he initiated Otherworldly Communion.

Doing it this way took all his willpower to manage. As he initiated the second pattern, he heard a hoarse shout as though from far away. It was only when time froze around him, the world beyond the point he stood turning grey, and the shout continued that he realised it was him doing it.

Using Otherworldly Communion allowed for a frozen moment of time, even within a time dilation field, where he could converse with the spirit he summoned. Doing so while in the middle of maintaining Pocket Time Stream meant that while talking to the spirit, Xavier was still experiencing the pressure.

That pressure was captured along with Xavier in its own pocket of time for the entire duration of the communion. He’d managed to hold the question he wished to ask in his mind after choosing from the different options. It had taken him a long while to select between Personal Insight and Greater Universe Insight. The pressure was affecting him, right in that moment, and so the insight into what that pressure was would technically be personal—he wanted the spirit to be able to examine it inside of him, to see what it was doing to him.

But the pressure was something from the Greater Universe itself, and so he didn’t know if he’d chosen correctly.

Still, he could always choose again, even if his mind rebelled against the idea of enduring this agony a second time.

Xavier chose Personal Insight, with the question, “What is this pressure, and what is it doing to me?” etched into his mind. He wanted to ask how to harden himself against it, but he was already stretching the amount of information he could gain from a single question in the one he’d posed.

As the spirit appeared in a flash of light, Xavier forced himself to stop shouting, locking his jaw closed as he beheld the man in front of him.

The man wore simple blue robes and had short hair and a clean-shaven face. On Earth, he would be called Asian, but Xavier doubted this man had come from Earth, even though it might be possible that he was from an alternate one. His fingers were interlaced in front of him, and he had a warm, calm expression on his face as he took in the person who’d summoned him.

You look to be in great pain, the spirit said with a tilt of the head. The man’s mouth didn’t move as he spoke. Instead, the words simply sounded in Xavier’s mind.

Xavier, no longer having to focus on holding the question in his mind or keeping the Pocket Time Stream spell pattern active while time was frozen, took a deep breath and centred himself, attaining that sense of inner calm as he stared at the blue robed spirit who’d appeared.

Yet you’re smiling, Xavier replied telepathically.

The spirit raised his chin. The warm smile did not disappear.

It is always good to smile. Reality blesses us with consciousness, and every experience—even pain, even loss—is a blessing just to be experienced. Even in death I have retained consciousness, and so I will always have a reason for smiling unless that is taken away from me. Then, I won’t have a reason for anything, for I won’t be anything any longer.

The monk’s smile widened at that, as though it were a joke, settled back into the simple expression of warmth it had been when he’d arrived.

Xavier blinked. God, was this really who he had to ask his question of? A wise monk with no empathy?

Let’s agree to disagree on that.

Indeed. I presume you summoned me for a reason beyond idle conversation. Restate the question you held in your mind, if you would.

What is this pressure, and what is it doing to me?

The blue-robed monk’s expression remained unchanged, but his eyes seemed to take on a different quality as they locked onto Xavier with intensity.

That is a very big question you ask of me.

Xavier wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Are you saying you don’t have the answer?

Otherworldly Communion wasn’t a foolproof spell. It didn’t simply provide you with any answer you wished for. All it could do was identify the most likely spirit in the Otherworld who might be of help. Even then, it wouldn’t necessarily bring you that spirit. Rhaalir had spoken to him at length about it once. There were different “levels” of spirits that would arrive when this spell was cast, even when the exact same question was asked.

While that made complete sense, it wasn’t information he’d had back when he’d asked about… Well, so many things. It had made him wonder if there was more information to be gleaned from these spirits—like information concerning the identity of the Universe Hopper who’d created the three Hell Moons of Demonica.

The spirit who arrived often depended not just on the strength of the Otherworld summoner, but on the willingness of the spirit to answer the call. If a spirit wasn’t willing, they might still have to answer it if they weren’t powerful enough to resist. But if they were more powerful than the summoner, it was entirely up to the spirit.

I will answer your question to the best of my ability.

Xavier only just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes and giving a snarky reply, realising that perhaps his sense of inner calm wasn’t working as it usually did with the Universal Pressure pushing down on him. The summoned spirit was compelled by the spell to answer his question truthfully—so of course he had to answer it to the best of his ability.

He didn’t have a choice.

Xavier was quite aware of the fact, however, that a spirit could give more information than simply what they were summoned for. He might also have other interactions with the spirit in the future, so it was probably best to err on the side of being diplomatic.

He cocked his eyebrow and waited for the blue-robed spirit to continue.

I see you’ve come up with a name for the phenomena. Universal Pressure. The spirit inclined his head. That is as good a name as any. When I was still a living, breathing human, I called it The Weight of Reality that Pushed on the Soul and the Mind and the Body. The spirit chuckled. I always was one for wordiness, at least in my youth. Oh, my youth. He gained a wistful expression. The universe I was from no longer even exists. It is hard to imagine I was ever outside the Otherworld, let alone youthful. Ah, but never mind that, I digress.

Xavier gritted his teeth. That wordiness didn’t seem to have gone anywhere. You have experienced this pressure, then?

I made researching it my primary goal for twenty thousand years.

The way the spirit looked at Xavier in that moment, the intensity in his eyes multiplying, the smile slipping away, made him look like an entirely different person.

Twenty thousand years, and yet in that time I never felt it as strongly as I feel it in you right now. Tell me, how have you brought The Weight of Reality down on you so heavily?

Xavier smiled, then, trying to mirror the spirit’s original one of warmth. Is it not me who asks the questions here?

Indeed. My answer, however, might be more helpful to you the more information you provide.

Xavier thought, for a moment, how best to move forward. There was nothing compelling him to give this information to the blue-robed monk, but he saw the benefit in doing so. Still, he had taken much of what Rhaalir had told him to heart. Spirits from the Otherworld, the ones summoned from Otherworldly Communion, were much like Information Brokers—if you weren’t careful with how you interacted with them, whatever they discovered during that interaction would easily spread to others.

I will answer your question only if you sign a System-binding confidentiality contract.

Haha! Yes, of course I will.

The contract appeared so swiftly, and already signed by the other party, that Xavier had to think it had been prepared in advance. The look on the spirit’s face when Xavier signed it in return was positively predatory.

The calm, smiling monk was long gone.