It had been a long time since I'd felt first-day jitters for school—maybe twelve years since culinary school, and even that wouldn't stack up to the Ivy League magic academy that was Sylvarus. On top of that, I'd slept through breakfast and had to bolt from Diana's office into the marble halls as seven gentle chimes rang through the air, their crystalline notes echoing off polished stone.

  After the last month, I'd thought I had Ark figured out. Looking back now, that was really fucking stupid—spending a month in Hawaii and claiming I'd seen everything Earth had to offer.

  The tournament had been my first real taste of how vast this world was. With thousands of people spectating, thousands more watching through strange spirit realm connections and viewing tables, all of them watching tiny stone versions of us fight monsters like some magical version of Friday night fights. But I still hadn't been prepared for this.

  When a literal humanoid orange and black tiger in flowing hanfu robes strolled up to me in the hallway and greeted me by name, I suddenly felt like that guy standing in a destroyed tavern, wearing a curtain toga, finding out about the multiverse all over again.

  The moment he entered my aura, something shifted. It was like he'd laid everything about himself bare, inviting Valor to see him completely. The sensation was so odd it made me shudder in a way I hadn't since first using Bravery—I'd thought my aura was a one-way street.

  "Breaker Ben Crawford!" He threw his hands—paws?—out wide as he approached, sharp claws glinting. "You made me so much money in the tournament last month. I feel like I should buy you a drink after last bells."

  I glanced down at Red, who sat calmly beside me, his tail giving a gentle wag. He seemed to pick up on my confusion through our bond, but rather than offer any explanation, he just shot me a goofy look and sent the mental equivalent of a shrug.

  Great. I was asking a dog for cultural guidance.

  "What's the matter, Breaker? You look like you haven't seen a Tianar before."

  I shook my head, and he grinned, showing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that should have been terrifying but somehow came across as friendly.

  "Well then! Allow me to be your introduction to the people of the Central Lands. I am Jason Steel, Runesmith instructor here at Sylvarus."

  I blinked at him, the name settling in as I stared into those golden, predatory eyes. "That has to be the most badass name I've heard so far. Until now, it was Dick Longwood."

  Jason's laugh was a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through his chest. "Don't I know it. So you've met old Dicky Longwood?"

  I couldn't help but snicker. "I have. Huge guy, bald head, epic mustache."

  "That's him." He took a deep breath through his nose, those cat-like nostrils flaring as he looked around the hall. "I saw you use life-aspected mana to heal yourself in the second round, just like he does. What I wouldn't give to shrug off a solid goring that fast." His ears twitched forward. "Got any plans this morning?"

  I shrugged, suddenly cluing in that this guy had said he was an instructor—and a Runesmith. That was definitely something I wanted to know more about.

  "Well, Diana said I was supposed to go to... Introduction to Runic Something-or-Other," I said.

  Jason scoffed, his whiskers twitching with disdain. "Fuck that boring noise. Blow it off. Let's get some breakfast."

  "You want me to cut my first class on my first day at the Academy?" I said with a chuckle. "Aren't you supposed to be an instructor?"

  "I skip teaching all the time," Jason said with a casual wave of his paw. "It's kind of my thing. Besides, you're a Seeker—an Aspirant, no less. That translocator on your wrist means Diana trusts you enough to figure your own shit out."

  I looked down at the copper bracelet Dara had given me when I'd arrived. She'd said it could get me anywhere I had access to, and that considerable resources had been invested in giving them to us. If they were anything like the one Gary had given me back at the tower, I could probably just zap myself to that class whenever I wanted.

  It might have been the sleep deprivation talking, but I was suddenly reminded of that awful textbook Diana had brought me as a prank before the tournament. The thing read like a dissertation written by someone who'd never heard of the word "concise," and I couldn't handle that sort of academic torture no matter how much coffee I drank today. I'd be unconscious in minutes.

  I looked down at Red again.

  he sent through our bond, and I could practically feel his tail wagging harder.

  I shrugged, grinning despite myself. "Yeah, fuck it. We're in."

  Bacon—or at least something damn close to it—sat in front of me on a ceramic plate in a small dining area that Jason had said was mostly for faculty. We had the place to ourselves as two Albinus Vildar bustled around us, setting down bowls of thick porridge, slices of cured pork belly that might as well have been bacon, perfectly boiled eggs, and a huge steaming pot of tea. The teapot even had tiny runes inscribed along its surface, giving off warm concepts of heat and control that I could sense without even trying.

  While I appreciated tea, the long evening before and the hearty meal in front of me demanded something stronger. I pulled out a half-finished mug of still-hot coffee from my storage and took a grateful sip. Jason's golden eyes immediately locked onto the cup, his nostrils flaring as he caught the rich aroma.

  "Is that..." he started, and before he could finish, I passed him a cup of his own.

  He took a deep inhale that was almost reverent, then sighed with pure contentment before taking his first sip. "Masterfully extracted, Breaker. Alchemy might be a strong pursuit for you." His ears twitched with pleasure. "It's a shame most folks prefer tea here. Canephora is extremely popular back in the Empire."

  He began eating his porridge with a small spoon that looked absolutely ridiculous in his massive paw, while Red munched happily on the pork belly under the table, radiating pure contentment through our bond. Every dog I'd ever met wanted to be wherever the bacon was, and Red was absolutely no different.

  "So your people are from the Empire?" I asked, stuffing some bacon in my mouth and relishing the salty, smoky flavor. "I haven't seen a... Tianar? before now. I think I'd notice a tiger person."

  Jason's laugh rumbled through his chest. "My people don't venture this far west if they can help it—it's too damn hot for us. And we're more than just tigers. We're the larger branch of the beast-kin compared to the smaller Vildar." He gestured to himself with obvious pride. "I'm a Striatos."

  I thought about it for a moment, pieces clicking into place. "Like how Lana and Thea are Albinus?"

  Jason nodded approvingly. "Tianar and Vildar are the primary beast-kin families. There are more Vildar types than just the ones you see out this way, but the most common by far are the Russets." His whiskers twitched with amusement. "Though they're all equally insane."

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  One of the Albinus attendants scoffed audibly from across the room.

  "Seems I may have hit a nerve with our small friends," Jason laughed, then took another appreciative sip of his coffee. "We all have our vices. At least the Vildar are consistent in theirs."

  "They sure are," I agreed, thinking of all the dessert-fueled brawls. "So you teach Runesmithing? What exactly does that entail? I've seen Thea do her techno-magic stuff—is it similar?"

  Jason eyed me with mock severity. "Are you asking me to teach before I've even finished my breakfast?"

  I shook my head quickly. "Just making conversation."

  He grinned again, showing those sharp teeth. "I think we'll get along great." His expression grew more serious. "No, it's nothing like the techno-garbage you see people cobbling together or pulling from ruins. Real Runesmithing runs on nothing but its own magic, lasting for decades or centuries." His tone turned slightly bitter. "Like that sword of mine your colleague lost in a spirit realm."

  I paused mid-chew, pieces falling into place. "Oh shit—the Hullcracker! That was your work?" I swallowed hard. "That was an incredible sword. Cass still misses it."

  Jason picked up his bowl of porridge and drank it like it was an oversized cup—which, in his massive paws, it definitely looked like. "That was some of my finest work on display. Thanks for choosing it, by the way." His pride was unmistakable. "My family might not be much back in the Empire, but out here? We shine."

  "Oh," I said, handing another piece of bacon down to Red, who accepted it with dignified enthusiasm. "Sorry about that loss. Do I even want to know how much it cost?"

  Jason chuckled and waved dismissively with one massive paw. "You do not. But it was used in the successful defense of the Academy from an unprecedented monster attack. Thousands of people saw your colleague charge out of that tower wielding it." His grin turned distinctly predatory. "Couldn't ask for better marketing—not to mention all the money I made from the bets I'd placed."

  "You gamble frequently?" I asked, though something in his expression already told me the answer.

  Jason's grin widened, showing more of those razor-sharp teeth, as he stood. "Like I said, Breaker—we all have our vices. Come, I'll walk you to your class and smooth things over with the instructor."

  The classroom Jason led me to made my jaw drop to the floor.

  I'd been expecting something more traditional—stone benches, maybe a couple of dusty chalkboards, the place where you'd expect to see students hunched over copying from books. Instead, I walked into what looked like someone had taken the concept of "library" and turned it into the most ridiculously impressive study space I'd ever seen. It was like I had stepped into an entirely different tower after all the white marble.

  The room was massive, with soaring ceilings supported by elegant green columns that seemed to be made from polished jade. The books were everywhere. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every wall, packed with volumes that looked ancient and valuable. The warm glow from lantern orbs spread across the space, making it feel even more inviting.

  The centerpiece really blew my mind. In the center of the room, a spiraling tower of books stood, defying every law of physics I had ever learned. The massive structure twisted upward like a literary tornado, thousands of volumes somehow balanced and interlocked in a pattern that should have collapsed under its own weight. Stairs carved from the same turquoise stone spiraled around the outside, giving access to different levels of the impossible book tower.

  "Holy shit," I breathed, Red padding beside me as we descended toward the comfortable seating areas. "This is a classroom?"

  The space was filled with maybe thirty students sprawled across plush teal cushions arranged around low hexagonal tables. Most were Gaians—I could pick them out by their human appearance and general air of impatience as they lounged on the impossibly comfortable-looking furniture. The Florans were easier to spot thanks to their metallic skin tones, though they seemed just as annoyed as everyone else despite being surrounded by luxury.

  "We've been waiting for over an hour," complained a sandy-haired Gaian guy who was stretched out on one of the cushioned benches like he'd given up on the idea of formal education. "Where's the bloody instructor?"

  "Probably forgot he had a class," muttered an Aldertree woman, her voice carrying the edge of someone who'd been stood up one too many times. She gestured around the magnificent space with obvious frustration. "Half these instructors treat teaching like a hobby, even when they've got access to places like this."

  A few other students chimed in with similar complaints, and I nodded along. The consensus was that instructors and their teaching schedules were "flexible" at best.

  Red annexed one of the teal couches like it was his sovereign territory, and I joined him. The cushions somehow managed to be both elegant and ridiculously comfortable. His tail gave a lazy wag as he surveyed the room with the kind of interest dogs usually reserved for particularly promising smells.

  The moment I sank into those cushions, exhaustion hit me like a physical weight. My eyes felt heavy, and every time I blinked, it took a conscious effort to open them again. The warm room, the comfortable seating, the gentle murmur of student complaints—it was all conspiring to put me to sleep right here in front of thirty strangers.

  I was still craning my neck around to take in the spiraling tower of books when familiar heavy footsteps echoed from the entrance. A collective sigh went up from the students as Jason strolled into the room, looking completely unbothered by the fact that he was apparently late for his own class.

  I shot him an incredulous look that could have powered the lantern orbs for a week. This was the guy who'd just convinced me to blow off Introduction to Runic Something-or-Other so we could grab breakfast. The same Jason who'd told me he skipped teaching "all the time" like it was some kind of hobby.

  Jason caught my expression and had the audacity to wink at me before padding over to the central book tower. Without hesitation, he began climbing the spiral stairs with the fluid grace of someone who'd done this a thousand times before.

  "Right then," he called down, his voice easily carrying through the space as he ascended. Those golden predator eyes swept across the assembled students, and I swear I could feel his confidence like a physical presence. "I'm Jason Steel, Master of Arms here at Sylvarus. Welcome to Introduction to Runic Theory."

  About halfway up the tower, he stopped and reached into the spiral of books. With surgical precision, he extracted a massive leather-bound tome that should have caused the entire structure to collapse. Instead, the remaining books seemed to shift and resettle themselves as if they were alive.

  One of the Gaian students raised her hand with obvious skepticism as Jason descended with the book tucked under one massive arm. "Aren't you supposed to be a Runesmith instructor?"

  Jason's grin showed those razor-sharp teeth as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I am. I've also been asked to teach this class, and frankly, I'm a hell of a lot more interesting than whoever normally teaches it."

  He set the ancient tome down on one of the hexagonal tables with a heavy thud that seemed to reverberate through the entire room. The book was easily the size of a small coffee table, bound in leather that looked older than most civilizations. Intricate fractal designs were carved into the cover and inlaid with gold.

  "Now, how many of you think this class is going to be boring theoretical bullshit about runic fundamentals? I’m sure most of you have read the textbooks," Jason asked, resting one massive paw on the ancient book.

  Pretty much every hand in the room went up, including mine. I mean, "Introduction to Runic Theory" wasn't exactly a title that screamed excitement, even when taught in what looked like a library from a painting.

  Jason's laugh rumbled through his chest as he opened the tome. The pages looked like they were made from extremely thin paper, covered in symbols that shifted and moved like they were eager to escape. "Fair enough. And for many it would be, especially those that rely on the Arcadian Bracers. Here's the thing—runic theory isn't about memorizing symbols or understanding the historical concepts behind them. Proper fucking magic is about learning to break the rules."

  He gestured to the open book, and several of the runes lifted themselves off the pages to hover in the air around him like luminous pets. The sight was mesmerizing—ancient knowledge made manifest, giving off deeply simple concepts like hot and cold.

  My exhaustion retreated slightly, pushed back by genuine interest. This was already better than that textbook.

  "This," Jason said, plucking one of the floating runes out of the air with a claw, "is a basic Fire rune. According to traditional theory, it should make things burn. Heat them up, set them ablaze, all that predictable nonsense."

  The room went dead silent. Even the bored students lounging on their cushions were suddenly paying attention.

  Jason held up another rune—this one rippling with metallic silver light. "But what if I told you that you could make fire freeze things instead? Or make a hammer cut rather than bludgeon? Or... turn basic lantern orbs into highly effective explosives, like the Breaker there."

  All eyes turned to me, and two Florans to my left raised their eyebrows.

  I didn't mind the attention. It was part of being a Paladin, after all. Letting Valor spread out around the room, I leaned forward on my cushion, suddenly very interested in what Jason had to teach.

  “The Empire's been teaching runic fundamentals the same way for centuries,” Jason continued, making the runes dance around his paws like trained fireflies. "Memorize the symbols, understand their traditional applications, follow the established patterns." He snatched two runes out of the air and pressed them together. They resisted at first, then suddenly merged with a flash of golden light. “Fuck that. The real power comes from understanding why they work, then making them do something new.” Jason seemed to pause for dramatic effect.

  “That’s

  magic."