The return journey to the junction was nerve-wracking. They moved through tertiary tunnels and crumbling access ways, the environment even more hostile and unstable than the main sewers. Rhys kept his Echo Sense stretched thin, constantly scanning, parsing the indistinct signatures of decay and mutation, searching for the sharper, muddier signals of Corbin's gang. Twice they had to freeze, hiding in recesses choked with foul-smelling slime, as distant sounds suggested patrols moving through adjacent passages.
They timed their final approach to coincide with the peak of a drainage cycle. A deafening roar filled the tunnels as tons of waste water surged down from the upper levels, churning the main channel below the junction into a foaming, turbulent torrent. The noise was overwhelming, vibrating through the very stone, but it provided perfect auditory cover.
Under the deluge's peak, they slipped down to the junction level, keeping low, using shattered pillars and rockfalls as cover. Rhys ignored the abandoned alcove, focusing his Echo Sense intently on the spot he remembered near the base of the Aether-weeping stones. The turbulent water made fine sensing difficult, but the metallic resonance was still there, a solid point of stability amidst the chaos.
Boulder stood guard, pry bar ready, his eyes scanning the tunnel entrances, barely visible through the spray and gloom. Rhys reached the target location. The metal wasn't visible on the surface; it was embedded within the rock itself, revealed only by a network of fine cracks from which Aether-rich water seeped. He didn't have time for careful excavation. Drawing on his Aether Pool – feeling the strain more acutely now due to his fatigue and the chaotic environment – he focused his will, attempting a crude application of force manipulation, a basic telekinetic push learned through painful trial-and-error during his circulation practice.
He visualized the cracks widening, the rock yielding. He pushed his Aether outward, not as an attack, but as a focused pressure. The stone groaned. Grit showered into the churning water. Sweat beaded on Rhys's forehead despite the sewer's chill. He pushed harder, his reserves draining alarmingly fast. With a sharp crack, a chunk of rock the size of his fist broke loose, falling into the water with a splash masked by the torrent.
Rhys lunged, grabbing the rock before the current could sweep it away. It was heavy, coated in slime, but nestled within it was a node of dark, lustrous metal, about the size of his thumb. It felt strangely cool to the touch, and pulsed with a faint, steady resonance under his Echo Sense. It wasn't radiating Aether, but seemed to absorb ambient energy, grounding it.
"Got it!" Rhys hissed. Boulder was already gesturing him back. They retreated the way they came, scrambling back up into the side tunnels just as the main drainage flow began to subside, the roar lessening to a gurgle. They didn't stop until they were several sections away, hidden once more in the oppressive darkness. Rhys examined their prize. The metal node was smooth, almost obsidian-black, with faint, swirling internal patterns visible under the slime. It felt dense, powerful in a subtle, contained way. Hopefully, Kaelen would agree.
The journey towards the surface and Kaelen's forge district took another two cycles, using routes that wound through abandoned factory basements and collapsed transit tunnels. They surfaced cautiously in the pre-dawn gloom of the Smelt, the industrial sector where Kaelen maintained his dilapidated forge. The air here tasted of coal smoke, chemical runoff, and hot metal, a familiar but unwelcome assault on the senses after the relative purity of the deep tunnels.
Rhys scanned meticulously with his Echo Sense. Fewer overt patrols here than near the Undermarket, but the background hum of vigilance felt higher. More watchers, more hidden observers. Kaelen's area seemed relatively quiet, perhaps due to the smith's fearsome reputation or lack of obvious wealth.
They approached the forge through back alleys piled high with scrap metal and industrial refuse. The rhythmic clang of a hammer on metal echoed faintly – Kaelen was already at work. Rhys paused outside the soot-stained entrance, taking a breath, composing himself. He gestured for Boulder to wait out of sight nearby.
Rhys stepped into the forge. The heat hit him immediately, a stark contrast to the sewer's chill. Kaelen stood before his anvil, stripped to the waist, muscles gleaming with sweat in the forge light, hammering a piece of glowing metal with focused intensity. He didn't stop or look up as Rhys entered, though Rhys knew the smith was aware of his presence.
Rhys waited patiently, observing the meticulous process, the way Kaelen seemed to commune with the metal and fire. Finally, the smith quenched the piece in a trough of steaming water, the hiss loud in the relative quiet. He turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a grime-stained forearm, his expression unreadable.
"Back already?" Kaelen's voice was a low rumble. "Thought the tunnels swallowed you."
"Ran into some trouble," Rhys admitted simply. "Needed to relocate. And… I need your knowledge."
Kaelen grunted, picking up the cooled metal piece, examining it critically. "Knowledge has a price. Especially the kind you're likely looking for."
"I know. I brought something." Rhys carefully produced the chunk of rock, holding it out so the metallic node was visible. "Found this deep. Near a… clean energy source. It resonated strangely."
Kaelen's eyes, usually indifferent, sharpened slightly. He took the rock, turning it over, his calloused thumb rubbing away the grime from the metal node. He tapped it lightly with a small hammer, listening to the pure, ringing tone. He held it close, seeming to sense it in a way that reminded Rhys of his own Echo Sense, though Kaelen showed no outward signs of Aether manipulation.
"Deep Iron," Kaelen murmured, a flicker of interest in his voice. "Or sometimes called Earth-Core Shard. Absorbs impurities, grounds chaotic energies. Rare. Especially this pure." He looked at Rhys, his gaze penetrating. "Where exactly did you find this 'clean energy source'?"
Rhys hesitated. Revealing the junction's location felt dangerous. "A place where the background noise is low. Deep down. Difficult to access."
Kaelen didn't press, but Rhys could feel the smith's scrutiny. "You're progressing with that… unusual method of yours," Kaelen stated, not quite a question. "I can feel the shift in your energy. Still weak, uncontrolled, but… clearer. Less scattered." He tossed the Deep Iron shard onto his workbench. "This is a fair down payment. What knowledge do you seek?"
"Body refinement," Rhys said immediately. "The energy I'm gathering… it strains my body. I can feel my limits. I need techniques to strengthen my physical vessel, my meridians, to handle more, and perhaps… to achieve better balance."
Kaelen nodded slowly. "Aye. Pouring potent wine into a cracked cup leads only to waste and breakage. Common problem for those who find power before foundation." He walked over to a cluttered shelf and pulled down a small, worn leather-bound booklet, its pages filled with anatomical diagrams and dense, archaic script.
He opened it, pointing to a specific diagram showing intricate energy pathways overlaying musculature and bone. "The techniques I gave you before were basic conditioning. This…" he tapped the page, "…deals with harmonizing Qi flow with physical structure. Meridian Dredging and Organ Tempering. Painful. Requires discipline. And specific materials for catalyst baths, which you'll have to find yourself." He listed three rare herbs and a type of mineral powder, names Rhys vaguely recognized from Sera's inventory lists – expensive items.
Kaelen copied several pages onto rough parchment with charcoal, diagrams and key instructions. He handed them to Rhys. "This is the next step. Master this, truly master it, and your body will become a better crucible. Fail, rush it, or create imbalance…" He let the warning hang in the air. "Imbalance," he repeated, his eyes locking onto Rhys's, "is the quickest path to Qi Deviation, madness, or self-destruction for any cultivator, traditional or… otherwise."
Rhys took the parchments, his fingers tracing the complex diagrams. The path forward was clear, but fraught with pain and expense. "Thank you, Master Kaelen."
Kaelen just grunted, turning back to his forge. "Don't come back until you've mastered this, or you find more Deep Iron. And watch your back. Saw some sharp-eyed types asking questions about energy surges and newcomers near my sector couple cycles back. Didn't look like Hand thugs."
The warning sent a chill down Rhys's spine, cutting through the forge's heat. Unknown watchers. They were still active, perhaps widening their search. He nodded his thanks again, tucked the precious parchments securely away, and slipped back out into the smoggy alleys, his mind already grappling with the demanding new techniques and the ever-present, unseen threats closing in.