The remainder of the day passes in a haze.
We eventually leave Stat Synergy and Optimization, but some part of my mind remains in that classroom, staring at a tiny thread of mana that slips through everything I throw at it.
Combat Communication (Practical) comes next. Under normal circumstances, I’d have found the class interesting. The Academy clearly takes the subject seriously, given it dedicates an entire mandatory course to something most people probably wrongly assume could be summarized with “talk to your team.”
The professor—a no-nonsense human woman—spends the first half of the class disabusing us of that notion by drilling hand signals into us.
Some are simple enough to understand at a glance, while others are seemingly needlessly complicated. Turns out, they’re meant to be used in tandem with mana for those with the ability to detect it, making them visible through rain, darkness, smoke, and even light magical interference.
As interesting as it is, I don’t absorb nearly as much as I should. Every time my attention begins to settle, it drifts back to the Professor’s demonstration.
“...Miss Emilia?”
My ears twitch at the sound of my name, and I refocus on the moment. I find the professor staring at me expectantly.
Along with several nearby classmates.
Bella gives my hand a little squeeze, and I immediately straighten in my seat.
The instructor sighs, instantly telling me this isn’t the first time they’ve dealt with students spacing out.
“Once more, what is the signal for ‘enemy mage, area spell, spread out’?”
Thankfully, the answer turns out to be one of the hand signals we'd spent the last ten minutes practicing. That, and Bella is an absolute sweetheart, offering assistance subtle enough that only I notice it.
The professor seems unconvinced, but moves on anyways.
The final class of the day—Team-Based Combat (Practical)—proves easier to focus on, though not because my thoughts have slowly settled into a kind of determined acceptance.
Rather, it’s because we spend the vast majority of the lesson observing several second-year groups as they navigate a series of staged encounters in the exam fields. Instead of a singular professor, several instructors guide the class while watching over the students.
Each group faces unique circumstances, environments, and opponents, and are expected to work as a team to tackle each obstacle. The instructors pause them frequently, dissecting decisions and offering guidance afterward.
The difference between these groups and the average first year team—even including my own—is immediately obvious.
It’s their coordination.
The students move with purpose. Frontliners rotate positions before becoming exhausted, support classes reposition before threats even emerge at the guidance of their scouts, and mages prepare spells for every possible scenario.
Everything feels practiced, even when teams are shuffled up and members are swapped around. They communicate constantly, hand signals flashing between the members in seconds.
Then entire expeditions reorganize.
The entire time, the instructors over our group simply point out things I’d not really taken the time to consider before.
Things like spacing, sightlines, and formations. That, and the logistics of working together with dozens or even hundreds of other Delvers.
Turns out, the more Delvers there are, the less important actually killing monsters is. It’s more about making sure everyone continues functioning long enough to kill them than anything else.
One portion of the lesson focuses specifically on integrating solo delvers into established groups, as apparently we have something of a reputation. Namely, we’re instruments of chaos.
Judging by the look Bella gives Cari and I, it’s likely we are prime suspects of said reputation. I don’t entirely disagree, though I make it clear that I resent the sentiment with an indignant huff.
I even turn my nose up at her.
The giggle she rewards me with makes the light judgment well worth it.
By the time the final bell rings, my head feels stuffed full of information. Most of it’s useful, but that damned demonstration refuses to leave my thoughts alone. Still, I manage to shove it down in favor of giving Bella and Cari attention.
I feel a little guilty for checking out on them for so long, though neither seems to mind.
“It’s fine. That was a crazy demonstration, honestly,” Cari says with a shrug.
Bella nods, giving me a commiserating look. “I’m just glad I wasn’t the one he asked to partake in the Intelligence demonstration.”
The rest of the trip to our dorms is spent in gentle conversation. It’s a pleasant distraction from my thoughts, and it only gets more pleasant when we finally settle in for dinner.
When we finally begin winding down for the evening, I surprise Bella with a goodnight hug, even employing my tail into the mission of flustering her as much as possible before bed. I wrap it around her waist as I tug her close, then let out an immeasurably pleased sigh.
“Goodnight, Bella.”
It takes her several seconds to hug me back, but I’m still happy with the results. As we part ways, she does her best to hide her face, but it’s a futile attempt.
Just as I step away, pointedly ignoring Cari’s silent teasing from across the room, there’s a knock at our door.
All three of us glance toward it. A moment later, I’m opening the door to one of the dormitory maids. In her hands are two sealed envelopes.
“Miss Emilia. Princess Arabella,” she says respectfully, giving us each a slight bow. “These just arrived from the administrators office.”
I accept them hesitantly, and she quickly departs on her own, closing the door behind her.
Nobody speaks as we break the seals and begin reading, though Cari looks on with obvious curiosity.
~~~~~~Emilia Ken,
You are to report to the Headmasters office at 17:00, after your final class has concluded.
Signed,Headmaster Kophis~~~~~~
I groan.
Then I groan again when Bella flips her letter around, showing the exact same summons on her own paper.
“I suppose he’ll want to ask us about our encounter,” she says carefully.
I decide to take my fun where I can get it, thoroughly setting myself to the task of ignoring the serious nature of the situation.
“You mean after our date?” I ask.
I bask in the memory of the glow of her cheeks as I settle into bed that night, letting it wash away my concerns.
***
The next morning begins with gentle words and even gentler touches.
“Emilia.”
I groan into my far-too-soft pillow.
“Emilia,” she says again, all patient and warm and lovely.
Without opening my eyes, I reach out blindly. The instant I find the source of the disturbance, I pull.
Bella lets out a startled yelp as she’s yanked into bed beside me.
I immediately wrap both arms around her, then throw my tail over her for good measure.
“So warm,” I mumble.
“E-Emilia!”
I nuzzle into her shoulder, taking a deep, contented breath.
She freezes completely, and I can practically feel her body heating up with embarrassment.
I sigh happily. “You smell nice.”
“W-what?” she asks.
“Mm... like spices,” I murmur. “And pretty things.”
For several glorious seconds, I enjoy the consequences of my actions as she crumbles into an adorable, flustered mess.
Then, shockingly, she actually relaxes, one arm hesitantly wrapping around my back and returning the cuddle.
It’s awkward and lacks even a mote of confidence... but it’s still perfect.
Sadly, that also means that the cuddles are probably going to end soon.
The moment she plucks up enough of her scattered thoughts, she speaks.
“Emilia,” she starts hesitantly. “We need to get ready for classes...”
With a dramatic sigh, I release her.
“Fine,” I moan. “I guess you can escape.”
She hesitates for a moment, then picks herself up with as much dignity as she can muster despite her now disheveled state. She retreats after saying breakfast will be waiting for me when I step out, and I watch her go with a smile.
She turns to give me a look that’s equal parts scandalized and fond, and I count that as a solid victory.
Later, we split off to our individual classes, with me heading to Introductory Rune Studies for my first period.
Unfortunately for me, it ends up being exactly what I’d expected, but nowhere near as interesting as I’d hoped.
It’s just runes.
Lots and lots of runes. Ancient ones. Modern ones. Enchantment runes, spell runes, and even theoretical runes.
By the halfway point, I understand why enchanters are paid so well. And by the end of the class, I also understand that I never want to become one.
The material itself is fascinating... and not for me.
When the Professor begins discussing the mathematical principles behind rune arrays, my thoughts drift toward the statue monster I’d kept in my storage since returning to the dungeon that started me down this path.
I had originally enrolled in the class hoping I might learn to study the creature myself, among other things. Instead, I find myself realizing that if I want to know anything, I’m going to have to ask an actual expert to examine the thing.
The problem is that any expert worth a damn will ask questions that I really, really don’t want to answer.
By the time class ends, I’ve already decided that I’ll take some time at the administrative office after meeting the Headmaster to drop this class. And Survival Logistics. I still don’t particularly care for learning the logistics of expeditions and all that goes into it.
Someone needs to do it, certainly. But like runework—that someone isn’t me.
When I arrive at the next class—General Skill Planning & Developement—I meet up with Cari.
Five minutes later, we’re both leaning forward in our seats like fanatics.
The textbook alone is worth its weight in platinum. At least, to us it is.
In it are hundreds of General Skills. Along with methods for obtaining them. And their evolution paths.
The moment I discover the section dedicated entirely to ideal Skill merges, I stop hearing the Professor entirely. I immediately look for Pain Tolerance, and upon finding it, I see it listed as a ‘must have’ for evolving into Pain Suppression so it can be merged with Mental Suppression.
While I knew it wasn’t an unknown Skill evolution, the fact that someone had literally mapped this stuff out and documented it blows my mind.
Cari looks moments away from abandoning Taruq and proposing to the textbook, as well.
For different reasons, I’m certain. She’s always been the theory-crafting sort. She’s the kind of person to write books like this, rather than use it herself.
By the end of class, Cari is clutching her copy like it’s a sacred relic from the Undone Age, and mine is stored safely away in my bangle. I’m absolutely certain that both of us will be spending several hours pouring through it later, and I genuinely can’t wait to get started.
I wonder how many Skills I can pick up before the end of the semester...
Precision Mana Manipulation (Practical) immediately becomes one of my favorite classes.
Also one of my least favorite.
Honestly, I’d outright hate this class if Bella wasn’t present.
The Professor—a human woman with rust colored hair—is a hard-ass, and not in a way that I find palatable.
Redeemable? Maybe.
She at least seems to genuinely care.
Of course, she starts the class off right away with the practical portion. She passes out smooth metal cylinders no larger than my palm, covered in tiny runes. According to her, it contains thirty sequential enchantment layers.
Each layer requires a different degree of precision to unlock before you can access the next.
Open one, and you can start working to open the next. And then the next. Simple enough.
I despise it more than I’ve hated anything short of the Empire’s ruling family.
The moment I push mana into the device, I find that there’s only one section of the ring that will accept mana. The section of runes that will accept mana is wide, though, covering nearly a tenth of the ring comprising the first layer.
I feed mana into it, and it lights up. A thin, pale blue ring forms around the bottom edge of the cylinder, indicating a clear success.
The moment I try to push the mana into the second layer, the adrenaline of my success instantly vanishes.
The next section that’s willing to accept mana is a tenth again the size of the first. To make matters worse, there’s a strange... hole. That’s the only way I can think to describe the bottomless void that sucks away any mana that draws near it.
The problem is that it’s right beside the section I need to feed mana.
I spend nearly fifteen minutes fighting with it. The entire time, the Professor verbally rips apart every students bad mana habits.
Of course, this includes me. And, surprisingly, even Bella. She throws us both atop the pyre of her ridicule, absolutely merciless in her criticisms.
But something she says sticks with me as I wage war against the device.
“Personal power won’t help you,” she says. “It takes more than your own mana to control magic, so why in the name of the Gods are you trying to brute force it?”
That gives me a small epiphany.
The first layer took my own mana. The second just... eats it all.
So instead, I grab the mana in the room around me and draw it into the second layer. It’s still difficult, willing it to squeeze into the next section that awaits mana, but I manage it. Better yet, the little void seems to completely ignore the ambient mana I push past it, letting it go by unimpeded.
A second thin ring lights up at the bottom of my cylinder, and a triumphant grin returns to my face.
The Professor actually seems pleased with me for a moment. At least until she rounds on another student to rip their strategy apart.
The third layer is worse.
With the second layer unlocked, the little void that consumed my personal mana deactivates and allows it through the narrow opening into the third section.
Except now there are three tiny void-things that eat both my personal mana and the ambient mana. Along with two sections that accept mana, each a tenth of the size of the last yet again, and both needing to be filled at the exact same time.
By the end of the class, I’ve only managed the first two layers. But instead of feeling discouraged, I’m absolutely thrilled.
And incredibly annoyed, but that’s beside the point.
I managed to get two layers. To control my mana and the mana around me enough to wiggle into two tiny locks.
Not well, and definitely not quickly.
But I did it.
As much as I feel I should probably be disappointed at my performance, I can’t help but feel that this is the first small step of many towards learning proper control. First, I will need to find a balance with my Intelligence and Wisdom. Second, practice with the tools from Mana Theory and Precision Mana Manipulation until I master them.
Third... I haven’t gotten to a third point yet, but I’m sure there’s something else I can do to improve further.
Of course, I’m also incredibly envious of Bella. She’d made it to the sixth layer before she couldn’t press any further. The Professor was pleased by her performance... for a little.
Before I leave for my next class, I head to the front of the class where the Professor leans on her desk, watching other students file out. She eyes me suspiciously as I approach.
“Yes?”
I hold up the device.
“Can I keep working on it?”
The grin that splits the womans face shifts her appearance into something akin to predatory delight.
“Absolutely. Sign it out. Don’t break it, and sign it back in at the end of the semester.”
For half a second, my grin matches hers. Then I hear a rush of steps as several nearby students who apparently overheard us all but sprint back to their desks to retrieve their own cylinders.
I quickly fill out the form before we can get mobbed, and Bella immediately follows suit.
Once we escape, I give her a quick hug. This time, she seemed to be expecting it, and returns it almost immediately.
As delightful as it is, I immediately shift my ‘Project Pink Princess’ plans up a notch.
Can’t have her getting used to me just yet, after all.
My last class of the week is Extreme Threat Engagement (Practical). I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to this class all week.
The Professor isn’t what I expect for a class of this nature.
Ratkin Alchemist
Level ??
Ratkin are among the smallest of the intelligent races, right alongside mousekin, rabbitkin, foxkin, and dwarves.
They are also, unfortunately, rather well known for cowardice.
The first thing he writes on the board doesn’t help in that regard, either.
~~~~~~IF YOU CAN RUN, DO THAT.~~~~~~
Several students laugh, but it dies quickly when the instructor aims withering glares at the sections it comes from.
“I am Professor Ritter. Some of you may find irony in a ratkin telling you to run away. Admittedly, I understand the impulse.”
His nose twitches as his gaze pans the room.
Small as he is, I’m surprised by the deep, aged voice he projects throughout the classroom.
A few students chuckle nervously, though significantly less than earlier.
“But there is a reason I am the Professor of this class, and you would do well to remember that.”
The chuckles die instantly, and the room falls into silence. For a moment, I’m immediately reminded of the tone set by Professor Halden in Monster Identification 1.
“Running away is not always cowardice. Doing whatever is necessary to survive is not weakness. Pride has killed more delvers than monsters ever will.”
His gaze locks onto the section where the loudest students were.
“A dead hero is still dead. A dead genius is still dead. The Tunnels, and the creatures within them, do not care how brave you are or how justified you feel in standing your ground.”
He finally looks away, and I can actually hear when a couple of the students breathe sighs of relief. He quickly settles in behind the podium before continuing.
“Extreme Threat Engagement exists because every year we bury promising students that encounter something beyond them. Sometimes it’s larger, or stronger, or simply older and more experienced,” he says, his gaze sweeping the room once again. “Sometimes it’s just smarter.”
He presses something on the podium, and the open space behind him lights up with an illusory image of a massive training field.
“Over the course of this semester, you will learn how to identify threats beyond your capabilities. You will learn how to escape them. You will learn how to contain them. And when escape and containment are impossible, you will learn how to survive them.”
He offers the class a smile, though it’s not particularly comforting.
“Eventually, you will also learn how to kill them.”
I lean forward, fully invested now.
“The first half of this course will focus on engagement.”
He turns back to the board then and begins writing.
~~~~~~Auras.Poisons.Regeneration.Area denial.Pack coordination.Soul magics.~~~~~~
“Many of these threats aren’t dangerous because they’re stronger than you—they’re dangerous because they force you to fight on their terms.”
He taps the board as several students, including myself, copy what he wrote into our own notebooks.
“You’re going to learn how to make them fight on yours.”
He steps back up to the podium and leans on it.
“Your final examination will be simple. You will be assigned a creature specifically selected to exploit your weaknesses,” he says. “It will also be a Tier above your own.”
His eyes land on me for a moment, and narrow with disapproval at my very, very obvious excitement.
I shift back into my seat, pretending that I wasn’t actually that interested.
“Your goal will be to survive the encounter and nothing more,” he says, staring at me for a moment longer before shifting back to the class as a whole.
“Driving it away is acceptable. Killing it is acceptable. Surviving it is mandatory,” he says. “If we have to rescue you, you will have failed the exam.”
I can already tell that Professor Ritter and I are going to be the best of buddies.
He’s going to give me Tier Two’s...
I’m going to kill them...
Then he’ll assign something even worse because I clearly learned the wrong lesson...
I think this might be the best class in the Academy.
Authors Note:I had an idea for a fun authors note. I forgot it while writing the chapter.
How frustrating lol
On another note, finally done with laying out the classes :3 Now we get to speed ahead a bit, focusing only on the... "important" ones. Not the best word for it, but I'm sure you guys know what I mean.
Gotta play with the ones that have the best interactions and information. And interactions with Bella. Lots and lots of interactions with Bella. ^-^
Do you guys have a favorite class? Personally, I think mine is torn between Applied Healing (fun catgirl doing catgirl things) and Weave Theory (Bluebell roleplaying).