The next morning is... strange.
Mostly because I wake up on my own.
No blankets cruelly ripped away by evil sisters.
No soft encouragements from cute princesses.
Just... me. Awake. On my own.
For a moment, I lie there staring at the ceiling, confused. Then I glance out the window and find that I still have time before classes.
I decide to take advantage of it. Weird as it is to be so awake so early, I wouldn’t complain. Instead, I find myself praying to the gods that every morning is like this.
Maybe I’ve already adapted to the schedule? Hopefully?
...Please?
A quick bath later, I pull a fresh uniform from my bangle and dress with little more than a thought. The convenience alone almost justifies carrying half my possessions around in the magical storage, but the weight limit is already stretched thin with delving supplies.
The thought gives me pause for a moment.
Do I even need them right now?
If we only delve every other semester, then I could reasonably free up the space for more convenient uses.
I decide to reorganize it tonight or tomorrow. There’s plenty of room in my bedroom to stash away the supplies, though keeping them fresh will be another issue that I can look into at another time.
Most of it is meant to last at least a month in open air already, so I’ll have time.
The moment I open my door, a familiar voice tickles my ears.
“...and watch out for when she cants her head to the side all cute-like,” Cari whispers conspiratorially from the living room. “She lets one ear flop on purpose because she knows it’s adorable.”
I freeze.
Last night, after returning to the dorms with Bella, we’d found Cari had already returned from her own... outing. The moment she saw us, she knew things had changed.
The explosion of glee that followed was a lot to handle. But it was heartwarming and sincere.
Except now she’s stabbing me in the back.
“She does not,” Bella whispers back, scandalized.
“She absolutely does.”
A small clatter of dishes follows.
I carefully lean around the doorway.
Cari and Bella stand together near the dining table. Bella is helping prepare breakfast, though her attention is entirely on Cari rather than the food.
The crimson tint on her cheeks tells me she’s embarrassed about receiving obviously classified information on me.
As she should be! This is a gross abuse of sisterly privilege.
“Oh, and if you really want to win an argument, there’s a sweet spot right at the base of her tail that she absolutely melts for.”
My eyes widen in horror at the clear breach of trust.
“If you rub gently around there, she turns into a puddle. It’s adorable. Oh! And one more thing—”
“No,” I interrupt loudly. “Not one more thing.”
I step fully into the room, my face blazing with heat at Cari’s treachery.
“In fact, I’d prefer no more things ever again.”
Bella immediately turns bright red upon seeing me.
Cari just grins.
Not a normal grin, either. The kind of grin worn exclusively by evil sisters who know they’ve committed a heinous crime and fully intend to commit several more.
“Morning,” she says cheerfully.
“You’re dead to me.”
Her grin widens.
“You say that now...”
She points a spoon at Bella.
“Give it a week, though. I bet you’ll thank me.”
I muster my best Scruffy-glare, all but promising death and retribution through will alone.
Bella, for her part, at least has the decency to look guilty. Unfortunately for me, that only makes her look cuter.
I feel like I'm supposed to be upset, but seeing her all flustered makes it impossibly difficult.
Gods, that’s so unfair.
Sadly, my righteous fury proves short-lived. The instant I catch a whiff of breakfast, my stomach growls loud enough to echo throughout the dorm room.
Not really, but it sure feels like it does—especially when both Cari and Bella give me knowing looks despite the heat of the moment.
I glance between them and the food, my mind warring over priorities.
The food wins.
“Traitor,” I huff at Cari before moving to sit at the table they’d been setting up.
She beams.
“Love you too.”
Bella giggles softly into one hand, and the sound immediately destroys whatever remained of my indignation.
Several minutes later, my plans for vengeance have been postponed in favor of stuffing my face. Cari, naturally, takes this as proof that she has been forgiven.
She is incorrect.
I simply intend to strike when she least expects it. Possibly with a pillow.
...Or a bucket.
“You’re making that face again,” Cari says suddenly.
I twitch at the sudden scrutiny.
“What face?”
“The one that means you’re planning something.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. How’d your date with Taruq go, by the way?”
When Cari’s freckled face instantly turns crimson, Bella snorts.
Stones from glass houses, dear sister...
Breakfast continues like that, interspersed with verbal jousting between Cari and I, until the time finally comes for us to head out.
As it turns out, each of the classes we have today are mandatory, and we’ll be attending each together all day. It’s a mixed blessing.
In the one hand is Bella’s hand.
Huge plus side, that.
But on the other is Cari, impish grin plastered across her face as she makes increasingly ridiculous kissy faces when Bella isn’t looking.
I make a point of ignoring her antics, and Bella is fortunately too busy being flustered over my closeness to care much about anything else.
Attack and Defense Skill Training (Practical) starts the day with more of a military drill than a class. For nearly the full two hours of class, we’re cycled through drills involving our offensive and defensive Skills.
Barriers, bolts, weapon and shield bolstering, and everything in between. Not just how to use them, but when not to.
A defensive Skill activated too early could be baited out. An offensive Skill activated too late might miss. An area of effect attack may harm your allies, while an area of effect defensive Skill may help your enemies.
One drill has us attempting to break through layered defensive mannequins, only the layers sporadically fall off and reapply themselves to force us to learn timing. Another forces us to survive against a stronger opponent—which, of course, is the Professor himself—without using a single offensive skill.
By the end of it, I’m sweaty, irritated, and a bit too excited to land a solid blow on the professor before the semester ends.
Part of me knows that is likely exactly what he was after, in order to motivate us.
The other, pettier part of me just doesn’t care.
Controlled Sparring (Practical) follows immediately after. The Professor this time is an immaculate human woman with a posture stiffer than I’ve seen Bella wear even when she’s trying to be extra noble.
Of course, the class is all about fighting, which I appreciate. Keeps things simple, I’d like to think.
Except it doesn’t. Today is simple one on one spars with similar tiered and similar leveled opponents.
Starting next week, we’ll be expected to battle in anything from deserts to gravity chambers, against one or multiple opponents of lesser, similar, and even higher Tiers than our own.
I’m oddly excited by the prospect, but also just a bit horrified.
By the time lunch arrives, I’m more than happy to collapse onto a bench beside Bella.
Right beside her. With our shoulders touching. And my tail looped around her side.
She immediately goes pink, but a nearly imperceptible smile teases at her lips.
This is just the best.
Cari watches the entire exchange while eating, but she doesn’t seem to have the energy to tease me.
Just before we reach the next class—Stat Synergy and Optimization—the Professor catches us.
“Miss Emilia.”
I stop, turning to find an older human man. He adjusts his spectacles before offering a small smile.
“I was hoping to ask a favor,” he says. “For educational purposes, of course.”
I’m immediately suspicious, but with both Bella and Cari at my sides, I decide to hear him out.
Several minutes later, I find myself seated beside Bella and Cari, nerves prickling at my stomach.
The classroom is enormous. Easily the biggest I’d been to yet.
That wasn’t important until I realized that every single person in it would be staring at me in the very, very near future.
I’d signed up to be in a four-part demonstration. The Professor promised that they wouldn’t be revealing levels, stats, or anything else sensitive, which is the only reason I agreed.
That, and Cari gave me her fiercest puppy-eyes. Even Bella seemed intrigued by the prospect of the demonstration.
Bella notices my nerves almost immediately. Without saying a word, she reaches over and takes one of my hands into her lap.
The gesture is so unexpected that it derails every thought I had the instant my fingers brush her leg.
Then Cari bumps my shoulder from the other side.
“Relax,” she whispers. “It’ll be fun, and you might learn something.”
Easy for her to say. She’s not going to be the center of attention for hundreds of students.
The professor strides to the center of the room before the class bells have finished ringing.
“Why,” he asks immediately, “does conventional wisdom encourage specialization? Raise your hand if you know the answer.”
Hands rise across the room, and I find that even Cari and Bella have both raised their own hands.
The Professor picks a student in the middle of the class, shrouded from my view by the heads of countless others.
“Class focus and Milestone advancement, Professor.”
“Correct!” he says, clapping his hands once. “The idea is that if you focus on one to three key stats, those being the stats your Classes already empower and rely upon, that you’ll be the best at your particular focus.”
He paces the front of the class as he speaks, hands gesticulating wildly.
“Are you a smith? Well, you’ll need Strength and Constitution. Maybe even a bit of Dexterity. A Rogue Delver? Dexterity is a given. Can’t exactly scout ahead if you’re too slow to get ahead in the first place, ay?”
A few awkward chuckles ring out around us.
“The point is to focus on what you’re good at. The System already grants you Classes that suit you, and at higher rarities it will even offer you entirely customized options made specifically for you. Lean into your strengths, and build your life around them.”
He pauses then to lean on the podium, taking a deep breath.
Then his gaze sharpens.
“Now... who can tell me when this is a bad idea?”
When nobody answers, his smile returns.
“I see I’ve caught some of you off guard... good.”
He then moves to his desk and drags the chair to the front of the class before sitting in it, facing us.
“There are a few scenarios, though they’re incredibly rare in the wider world. Thankfully, our Academy takes in the best of the best, and we have a few students in class today who will be helping to explore this subject in particular,” he says with broad smile, arms open wide.
“Nati,” the Professor calls, waving an absolute giant of a bearkin woman over.
As she passes, I can’t help but compare her forearms to my entire torso.
And my torso is smaller.
Gods, this woman would dwarf even the Archivist.
The professor places a simple wooden rod into her hand.
“Break this, and make sure the class can see.”
She quirks a brow at him, then turns to the class. She holds up the wooden rod in her hand for all to see, then squeezes.
It looks almost gentle, how her hand tightens around the wooden implement.
Then the wood screams for the barest instant before it suddenly explodes into splinters.
A few students, including me, flinch at the suddenness of it.
“Good,” the Professor says. “Now carve your name into this.”
He holds out a block of soft clay before her.
Nati stares at it and frowns. Then with a huff, she takes it from his hands and turns to the class once more.
With painstaking slowness and care, she presses one claw into the surface... only she presses far too much, caving in an entire corner of the clay.
She growls and tries again.
This time her finger punches a crater into the clay, ruining a good third of the entire tablet.
“Strength,” the Professor interjects before she can continue, “without sufficient Dexterity.”
He gestures toward the clay in her hands and the wood splinters strewn about the ground.
“Extraordinary power, but limited precision and control.”
Nati passes back the clay, and it disappears into some storage device the Professor has hidden on his person.
“Thank you Nati, you may take your seat.”
I swear the giant woman sulks as she returns to her seat near the back of the class.
“These drawbacks only begin appearing when one statistic dramatically outpaces its natural counterpart. Strength relies on Dexterity for control, and when that balance is lost, problems begin to emerge.”
The scratching of pens on paper can be heard all throughout the class, and when it dies down, he continues.
“Practice can alleviate these negatives, but this takes years. Sometimes even decades. That is why it’s important to keep balance in mind, even while specializing.”
Then he turns toward a corner of the class.
“Greyson,” he says, “please join me.”
A lanky human man steps forward then. When he arrives at the front, the Professor tosses a small leather ball toward him.
Greyson catches it instantly.
“Juggle these, if you would,” the Professor says, throwing another ball.
Then another. And another.
Then five more.
Within seconds, all eight are flying through the air in a perfect rotation. He catches each one without even looking, then throws them, changes hands, changes directions, and even shifts patterns.
He never misses a single one.
The display is honestly kind of impressive.
“Now Greyson, I am going to fire two beams of light at you. The one on the left will disrupt your juggling, and the one on the right will lightly sting your skin. You are to dodge the one on the left so that you can keep juggling. Do you understand?”
Greyson’s eyes narrow as he seems to come to some sort of realization. Then he sighs lightly and nods.
“I’ll try.”
The moment he speaks, the Professor fires two tiny beams of light at him, each aimed at one of Greyson’s shoulders.
Greyson twitches, dodging the beam that would have stung him, seemingly ignoring the disruptive attack entirely.
It lands, and Greyson instantly freezes, the leather balls falling to the floor in a steady thump thump thump.
Half a second later, he twitches again, seemingly able to move once more.
He sighs.
“Exceptional Dexterity,” the Professor announces, “but insufficient Intelligence. As Strength relies on Dexterity, Dexterity relies upon Intelligence.”
He points toward the scattered balls.
“His body moves faster than his mind can process, but it knows what to do. It knows how to throw and catch a ball. It knows how to avoid injury,” he continues.
Then he points to the shoulder where the beam struck.
“Greyson already knew which beam would hurt him. So his body avoided it before he could direct otherwise.”
I suddenly get a dreadful feeling as I realize where my demonstration will be heading.
“Thank you, Greyson. You may take your seat. Eylir, if you would join me next.”
This time, a slender elven woman steps forward. When the professor offers her a wand, she takes it without ceremony.
“Please demonstrate your abilities to the class.”
She nods, turning to us. The moment she raises it, dozens of tiny glowing lights bloom into existence.
Each one dances through the air with impossible precision. Some weave around one another. Others interlock, separate, and interlock again. More still begin forming shapes, creating illusions of animals, scrolling words, and entire moving scenes.
Then each section comes together as she creates a masterful illusion of an entire forest. Leaves and grass rustle under an unseen breeze, and I find myself gawking at the display of control.
“Now use the ambient mana in the room to power your creations,” the Professor orders.
Eylir winces, but nods.
Suddenly, the display begins wobbling. Several sections burst outright, the mana seemingly refusing to continue playing its part. Others drift out of formation, cutting the display into fragmented images of barely held together colors.
All the finesse and beauty that was once there simply falls apart. When it does, and Eylir is bent over with her hands on her knees, panting with strain, the Professor speaks.
“Exceptional Intelligence, but insufficient Wisdom,” he says. “Similar to Strength and Dexterity, Intelligence, in turn, relies upon Wisdom.”
Eylir nods, apparently having heard this before.
“She can control every thread of mana that she herself creates—but not the mana around her. Not the mana within her body. Not even the flow of mana from her body.”
When Eylir catches her breath, he gives her a nod, dismissing her.
Then his gaze shifts to me.
“Now this brings us to the final pairing. Emilia, please join me at the front.”
I hesitate for a moment, but when Bella gives my hand a reassuring squeeze against her lap, I sigh and stand.
The entire room turns toward me, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to stop my ears from wilting under the attention.
Taking a steadying breath, I step forward.
He gestures to the center of the stage.
“Please lock down the mana in the class, like you did during your Duel Exam. However, try not to suffocate the class,” he says with a chuckle.
A few students suddenly seem uneasy at the comment, but nobody protests.
“You may use as much mana as you wish, just hold the ambient mana as firmly as you can. Don’t let anything interfere with it.”
I frown at the instruction, confused about how this particular demonstration will go.
Then an idea comes to mind.
Play.
He didn’t say I couldn’t use other Skills... just to hold the mana as firmly as I can.
As Fae Ferocity blooms to life, doubling my stats, I activate All For One at maximum power.
I take a quick peek at my Status, just to see what I’m working with.
StatusName: Emilia KenRace: FaefoxAge: 20Level: 75
Health: 83,279Health Regen: 39,354 per minuteMana: 876,534Stored: 1.75mMana Regen: 13.75m per minute
Stats:Strength: 1,372 (9,946)Constitution: 1,850 (13,417)Dexterity: 2,825 (20,480)Intelligence: 2,196 (15,923)Wisdom: 10,956 (79,435)Charisma: 1,439 (10,436)
I glance at the Professors tag.
Human ScholarLevel ??
My frown slowly shifts into a grin.
At Tier Two, he’s bound to have relatively high Stats in his area of expertise, but... would whatever test he has in mind for me be enough to overpower nearly 80,000 Wisdom?
Let’s find out.
With 75% of my mana regen going to All For One, it leaves me with a bit under 3.5 million mana regen to work with. Plus the mana in my core and tail, so another 2.6 million mana.
With a flick of my will, I grab every shred of mana in the room and squeeze. The space instantly darkens as the arcanite lights are snuffed out, and every shred of mana is frozen in place.
Students gasp in surprise, and some even sound genuinely scared for a moment—then the Professor responds.
His body glows with ambient light, using his personal mana to power the magic. It’s at once bright enough to illuminate the entire class, and dim enough that he isn’t blinding to look at.
Several students look on in awe now, shocked by my display.
But I’m not done yet.
I squeeze harder, forcing the mana to remain perfectly still, demanding that it not permit anything in or out of its space, no matter what.
Mana: 824,832... 798,227... 720,838... 655,301...
Barely a full second passes as I press down on the world around me, and 200,000 mana is burned away to enforce it.
More.
I keep going, and even the light around the professor starts to dim as the mana in the space constricts around the foreign light.
Mana: 525,108... 343,047... 115,726...
A low growl tears from my throat as I push even harder.
Mana: 0Stored Mana: 1.75m... 1.28m... 782,770...
Sweat beads my brow as I strain against the world.
When the Professors light is all but pushed back, the room changes.
A pale blue glow slowly blooms throughout the class, and the reason quickly becomes apparent as I shunt more and more mana into my demands.
Students gasp in awe as wisps of mana suddenly become visible to the naked eye, willed into existence by my demands of absolute rigidity.
The Professor finally speaks, then.
“Observe.”
He raises one finger.
A tiny thread of silver light stretches out from it, pushing through the ambient blue.
Compared to the ocean of mana surrounding us, it looks insignificant. If I were being rude, I’d even say it was pathetic.
But then it begins moving.
It touches the mana under my control... and keeps going.
My smile fades.
It twists, turns, and spirals through the room directly toward me.
I will the mana around us to crush it. To stop it. Redirect it.
Nothing works.
The Professor’s mana slips through my control as though it isn’t even there.
The mana in the room surges around us, smothering it entirely... and somehow fails to stop it.
Less than a second later, the thread reaches me.
It taps my forehead hard enough to push my head back just a bit. As it does, my control over the mana in the room shatters like glass. Not from something imparted through his mana strand, but because I actually ran out of mana.
The room’s arcanite lamps lights up once more, and the mana snaps back into its proper place, disappearing from view.
I collapse to my hands and knees, gasping for air as my reserves quickly begin filling once more. But something else is tearing me apart from the inside.
I lost.
I even cheated, and I still lost.
And I have no idea how.
The Professor waits a moment before speaking.
“Exceptional Wisdom, with insufficient Intelligence,” he says, his voice echoing through the now dead silent class.
He gestures around the room.
“One hundred and twenty-seven mana. That is what I spent to pierce her control.”
Then he turns toward me, and in a whisper asks, “Would you be willing to tell how much you spent?”
I glance up at him, completely at a loss. Then shake my head.
Shocked as I am, I have enough of my wits about me to keep my specific numbers to myself.
He nods amiably.
“While I don’t know how much exactly, know that she spent significantly more. Miss Emilia possesses some of the most impressive ambient mana control I have ever personally witnessed in a first or second-year student.”
The compliment barely registers as I struggle back to my feet in a daze.
“But,” he continues, “Power without precision remains vulnerable.”
He taps the side of his head.
“She can hold an ocean of mana in place, certainly. But to contest fine control like I or Eylir displayed?”
He shakes his head.
“She would have to find the needle within its depths.”
Somehow, I find my way back to my seat as the Professor keeps speaking. Something about control, power, specialization and blind spots. Not only directed at my results, but at each of the demonstrations.
While I hear every word, and I’m grateful not to be the center of his warnings on overspecialization, none of it sticks.
One hundred and twenty-seven mana. Against millions.
Bella says something. Cari does, too.
I don’t catch either of them. My mind wanders as they take my hands in theirs, offering their own measures of comfort.
My gaze drifts to one of the arcanite lamps near the ceiling.
It’s a simple enchantment. A tiny spell. Small. Precise. Hells, it probably only takes singular digits of mana to power the things every few seconds—that’s it.
I reach out with my will to snare it.
Every shred of mana between me and the ceiling is locked in place, instead.
My stomach twists.
I knew my control wasn’t great. I’d known that for a while now. But I thought that enough mana could solve the problem. That overwhelming force could make up the difference.
I was horribly, horribly wrong.
For the rest of the lecture, I sit there staring at the lamp.
And for the second time since joining the Academy, I realize that some things are more important than gaining levels.
Authors Note:Phew! Long chapter this time. Longest in a while, sitting at... nearly 4200 words.
Whoa.
I hope you all enjoyed this one! I wanted to spend some time exploring the scale of power, specialization, and some of the strange exceptions to rules that most people take for granted.
And don't worry!
Emilia will balance out eventually.
That's kind of the whole point of this class. And the Academy as a whole, really. :3
Actually, side question.
The quip thing is new, and I'm trying to figure it out without annoying you guys. So, do you see every single quip I make?
I ask beacuse I make quips on my own, just because I have a thought or I'm feeling silly. I like these ones a lot, and it seems you guys do too, so yay!
But I also make quips because patreon suggests it when I make a chapter post. These ones seem attached to the chapter itself, so I'm not sure if that alters what you guys see. If it does, is it in a bad way?