"What I see, is blood."
Spirit stone, in essence, was just a mana battery. An item with a crystalline structure that held a lot more condensed mana than what one could get from the air.
Back in Theo's original life, those spirit stones were used in exactly this way - as a magic battery, a means to carry mana in its physical form.
An extremely convenient item that sprung up the rise of several mana-dependent industries, allowing their detachment from the mana-gathering array and thus much more optimal factory layout planning and the likes.
But in this place?
Spirit stones were everything.
A currency to the privileged. A basic cultivation resource allowing one to speed up the otherwise extremely long process of accumulating mana directly from the air.
Heck, keeping a bunch of spirit stones in one's possession was often deemed good manners for nobles, turning those into an equivalent of a favor, for nobles to share with the lesser folk whenever they provided them with an exceptional service.
Ultimately, however, spirit stones were akin to golden coins - too precious for an average person to carry or even use, but essential for the bulk trades or pretty much any deals happening between the nobles.
What was important for the moment, however, was that the spirit stones' precious nature made them a material people hardly ever messed up with, locking this whole civilization off the whole developmental path easily accessible to anyone with basic knowledge of runes and engraving.
A knowledge that, in the form of formations, Theo could perfectly recall seeing in this new life of his.
Still, for Narmidor, just watching a defaced spirit stone was enough to make his eyes go wide. And when Theo crushed it in his hand - another impossible feat, by the way - it appeared no different than him taking his monthly allocation of the cultivation resources and just throwing it away!
No, it was even worse!
If Theo just threw it away, someone else could pick it up and use it. What Theo did, was actually akin to throwing his resources into a fire, not only discarding their use himself but also stopping anyone else from using them as well!
In the end, however, regardless of what kind of face Narmidor was about to make when he saw Theo crushing the stone, it mattered not.
Because with the energy now forcefully released from the stone, he formed a glyph - the very technique that allowed the magic of his old life to become its advanced version that he was so intimately familiar with.
For a single instant, the balance of powers within Theo's array changed.
What used to be its new, temporary nexus has turned into a glyph, or in other words - a magical imprint of instructions automatically enforcing themselves upon the world mana around the glyph.
And it just so happened that right now, Theo and Narmidor stood in the greatest mana well ever seen in this part of the world!
BOOM!
Just the sonic wave sent by the magical decompression was comparable to the sound of those new and improved explosives Theo once saw tested by the military of his old life. And with it, the once lush garden of Narmidor's secret retreat vanished, replaced with torn and twisted remains of his beloved bushes and herbs thrown all over the outer walls of the inner courtyard.
And all of that, was merely a side effect of the mana-purge, the act of expelling all the mana that the glyph couldn't influence from the source of mana it affected.
Whoosh!
With the shockwave gone, the air rapidly rushed in to compensate for the sudden decompression, making the air turn soggy from all the particles of dust and broken vegetation that this gust lifted, creating an artificial, extremely thick mist that made it hard for Theo to even see the patriarch.
And then, just like that, everything ended.
The dust in the air froze, as if suddenly held in place by some invisible authority. The winds calmed down, daring not to violently intrude into the area even if that's what the laws of physics dictated.
Because all the mana that remained within the array was firmly within the grasp of Theo's glyph, a glyph that he could, in turn, freely control.
"Can you sense it now, or do I really have to hurt you to prove it?" Theo politely asked, holding this overwhelming amount of mana with ease, as the amount of mana needed to control this glyph could freely pass through his mana-gate now that it wasn't deformed and impossibly narrow.
Narmidor swallowed his spit, his Adam's apple moving down and then back up in the silent answer to Theo's request.
By all means, the patriarch of Theo's current sect of residence did sense the power he held at his fingertips. The worst part about it, though, was the hurt, betrayed look that he gave Theo afterwards, once he managed to pull himself together.
"…"
At first, Narmidor simply stood in silence, staring at Theo with that look of betrayal on his face, as if unable to see any reason for the sudden threat of violence.
Weren't they on good terms? Was Theo's attitude all just a lie? Were all the evenings they spent playing chess just a trick to make him lower his guard?
'I can almost see what he is thinking,' Theo thought, clenching his jaws not to let the man's feelings affect his mood.
Taking over this sect was the very founding step he had to take if he wanted to change his life around. If he wanted to save his childhood flame from the marriage with that abusive piece of shit of his brother, if he wanted to complete the full rebirth by returning to the time and place where he cast his grand spell, if he wanted to free himself from the shackles his family's name put on him…
If he wanted any of that, dealing with Narmidor couldn't be avoided.
The question that remained was whether the man still held strong enough feelings for his sect to absolutely refuse the notion of leaving it in someone else's hands and thus forcing Theo on the path of violence right the very day he awakened…
Or would he be able to see past those impulsive feelings and realize the insane weight of Theo's presentation, allowing the two to solve this situation in a less violent and more amicable way?
"Out of curiosity," Narmidor finally opened up his mouth. "What are you going to do if I refuse to make a deal?"
The look on the patriarch's face has changed after he took a look at the devastated garden all around.
It felt as if the removal of his serene, peaceful spot served to sever the nostalgia that kept him down for all those years, allowing him to see clearly for the first time in a good while.
"I would either deal with you here on the low, make sure people saw me leave before anyone could notice our fight and then leave a remote bomb to detonate this…" Theo almost choked on his own saliva as he looked around, "this garden, making it seem as the usual case of the forced attempt at breaking through gone bad."
Theo then shook his shoulders.
"That, or the cultivator's plea," he added, referring to the traditional and now mostly forgotten way in which cultivators of the past loved to solve their issues.
A fight to the death or surrender, with the victor gaining the right to decide upon whatever issue the cultivator's plea was invoked in.
An archaic, impractical and outright stupid method…
But one that Narmidor was theoretically required by law to obey the rules of. And so, if Theo challenged him to a warrior's plea with the whole sect on the line?
Then it would be up to the victor of the duel to claim the ownership of this place, its legacy and all the responsibilities that came with it.
"Obviously, I would rather you take the deal," Theo sighed, dismissing the oppressive pressure of his mana from the air with a snap of his finger and then allowing his expression to relax.
"And so," Theo shook his head, restoring his face to a perfectly neutral look, "what say you?"