Sweat beaded on his brow as his entire body tensed. Not very different to him tempering his muscles and his Divine Vessels, this felt like trying to grasp water with his bare hands. It was slippery, elusive, and unyielding.
His breathing was in ragged bursts as he focused harder, his mind narrowing to a single point of intent.
"Steady," he spoke to himself in his mind, maintaining the imagination of the river of Divinity.
The easiest past was lifting the bubbles, and the first one lifted. It shimmered in his mind's eye, delicate and radiant. He guided it carefully toward the bones of his arms, as he'd already managed to temper his leg bones that morning.