Radeon patted the bison's neck three times. At the third touch, its massive frame shuddered and shrank.

The bison folded in on itself until it stood at half its former size. It was still larger than any ordinary beast of burden, yet now it would pass at a glance.

He worked quickly after that. Wooden wheels were drawn from storage, beams that once cradled treasure were repurposed as axles.

Sleeves were rolled. The hem of his robes was folded up and tucked away.

When he finished with himself, Radeon stepped to Fay and adjusted her clothes the same way, careful and practiced.

When they were done, they no longer looked like cultivators bound for trouble, only traders chasing a modest profit.

Then the change came. His skin sagged and roughened. Hair thinned and receded.

Lines etched themselves deep into his face as if time had finally found him.

In a breath, Radeon wore the skin of the old Sail Knife.

Fay froze when she saw him. Her eyes shone with naked want as she stared.

"I wishes to know that as well," she murmured under her breath, hoping her master would hear.

Radeon stayed silent. The technique belonged to his Cosmic Devouring Arts, refined over millions of years.

He did not withhold it out of greed. The danger lay elsewhere.

The devourer did not merely steal blood and bone. It claimed habits, memories, identity itself.

Without an iron sense of self, many were lost long before they understood what they had become.

For now, he would adjust his body. He would realign nerves, muscle, skin, bones, and veins.

Radeon placed his palm against her back and circulated his qi through her body, memorizing every muscle and bone.

Her skeleton clicked and shifted beneath his guidance. Fay giggled despite herself, the sensation oddly ticklish.

When Radeon withdrew his hand, she had become a middle aged woman.

Wrinkles creased her face. Her teeth sat crooked. A slight hunch bent her spine.

Fay's once slim waist had thickened, her body settling into unfamiliar weight.

Fay stared into a bronze mirror and recoiled. Her youth was gone, yet her strength remained.

"Ma. Master, am I gonna look like this forever?" Fay asked.

Radeon shook his head, thinking the question silly. From his sleeve he produced a thread-bound book.

It was a set of six books. Skin. Internal organs. Muscle. Nerves. Brain. Finally, meridians.

Then he tapped Fay's eyebrows and gave her a studying technique, one he would use even in combat.

The art was named Books Under Eyes. Fay's vision clouded for a moment.

The art had its own function, shaping a unique visualization through each cultivator's eyes.

Her vision began to clear. Images formed before her, memories projected like pages turning.

Fay's mind shaped them into the book of myths she had favored most.

Gratitude settled deep in her chest. These were the techniques she had always wanted, tools to understand rather than violence.

Then Radeon looked at Fay sternly, the face he only wore when something extremely precarious may happen.

"Bone and muscle adjustment didn't fail for lack of power. It failed for lack of know-how." Radeon pointed at the books. "All of this. You learn it properly, not the surface. Don't practice on your own body. Use a corpses. Or animals."

Fay nodded hard, understanding that something irreversible could happen if she misstepped.

Radeon caught the severity in her expression and returned his attention to the road.

Before long, the clanging of metal rolled toward them in heavy waves. Heat thickened the air. Iron stung the nose.

The smelting quarter rose ahead, furnaces roaring like caged beasts. Radeon had chosen this place deliberately.

He needed a furnace, raw ore, and discarded blades. Melt them down. Strip out whatever precious metal still clung to their bones.

A large man stepped into their path, one eye missing, his hands raised in a practiced signal for a halt.

"Welcome to Ironbuck Mines. Name's Biscuit. Don't ask after it. I've got it round these parts. Born here, stayed here. Now then... what's your business?"

"A forge," Radeon said. "Need to rent one."

Biscuit's gaze flicked over the cart. Merchants meant profit. Then his attention shifted to Radeon's hands.

Weathered, yes, but not the hands of a blacksmith. Biscuit had seen sky sailors before. He recognized the kind.

"Retired sky-sailor, eh." Biscuit let the silence sit a moment. "Best you come along with me."

He led them past several furnaces until they reached a decent sized one, its fire already blazing hot enough to swallow ore whole.

"Well?" Biscuit said at last. "What do you make of it?"

Radeon shook his head. It was good, but not enough. He pointed instead toward a mound set farther back, half buried in slag and stone.

An older furnace occupied two hundred square meters. Its clay mount rose about thirty meters.

The tunnel entrance was three meters wide, made for mass production.

Biscuit blinked. He weighed his words. A sky sailor was still a cultivator, and he was but a mortal kiln keeper.

"Sky-sailor, you may not know it, but those are volcano kilns. Artisan work. I won't sit in judgment, mind you, only tell you plain. It'll cost you a hundred and fifty stones."

Radeon rummaged through his bag and produced five hundred spirit stones.

Biscuit nodded instinctively, already reaching to return the excess, but Radeon seized his wrist.

"It's yours," Radeon said. "Keep it. See my bison's cared for. And don't let anyone near me."

Biscuit earned three gold a day. Fifty stones was nearly half a year of wages. He nodded without hesitation.

Radeon inspected each kiln and chose the one best suited to his needs. The bison was parked beside it.

He coughed softly to get Fay's attention. She waved him off, eyes glued to the diagrams she was still studying.

Radeon unloaded the cabinet from his back. He was but at the peak of the breath tempering stage, yet he carried thousands of kilograms as if nothing.

That was one reason he insisted on forging a body of his own.

Biscuit was already waving for his helpers to come, but when he saw the man's strength, he waved them off.

"What ungodly strength has them old bones," he murmured under his breath.

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