As Seth walked out of the Trial Tower, he found himself facing a terribly long line of students waiting to get inside along with many clusters of students chatting together. Tomorrow being the last day before the end of the spring semester, most of them had come in hope of improving their ranking to get a better reward. The moment Seth passed underneath the tower's archway, his name and time appeared above.

Seth ~ Floor 16, 26 min 45 sec.

Whispers began to spread almost immediately; most of the students turned toward him, surprise and disdain flashing across the faces of those wearing the noble scarlet uniform. In contrast, several commoners in gray elbowed their friend and nodded toward him with beaming smiles.

He already knew where that result should put him, but he still walked to the ranking boards to confirm it.

1st: Seth [Primalist Rank 30] ~ Floor 16, 26 min 45 sec.

2nd: Elena Surani [Elementalist Rank 32] ~ Floor 15, 33 min 49 sec.

3rd: Silvius Crestor [Rogue Rank 31] ~ Floor 14, 36 min 31 sec.

4th: Brendon Surani [Guardian Rank 30] ~ Floor 14, 39 min 44 sec.

5th: Arrel Vancaws [Warrior Rank 28] ~ Floor 13, 32 min 12 sec.

6th: Lucius Faertis [Elementalist Rank 30] ~ Floor 13, 32 min 31 sec.

[...]

Seth's jaws clenched as he stared at the sixth name of the board. Lucius had achieved that a week ago before getting his ribs—and spine—crushed by Phantom Punch. The noble's name would slowly fall down the ranking board… but it still left a bad taste in Seth's mouth.

Just as Seth turned around, complaints of nearby students reached his ear.

"This shouldn't count. He clearly used his direwolf."

"Yeah, that's cheating, plain and simple."

"I can't believe he's still allowed to be here… that bastard basically crippled a noble from the Twenty Great Houses."

Before Seth could speak his mind, a group of people approached him from the right. Director Ryehill was at the front, Intendant Lancet by his side, and a few steps behind were Elena, Jenna, and Devus.

"That's an impressive score, Seth," the man said with a discrete nod. "Even with the help of your direwolf. I highly doubt anyone will dethrone you today or even tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir," Seth replied politely.

"Anyway, you can imagine we didn't come here to congratulate you," the director added, glancing at the first-year-student intendant next to him. "If you have a moment for us, we'd like to talk with you about something in my office."

Seth felt a frown crease his forehead as he glanced at his friends behind the man—Jenna and Elena's faces were tight, while Devus was smiling and giving him two thumbs-up. Two thought it was bad news, and one obviously didn't.

Maybe it's about my trial against the Faertis House, Seth thought before answering. "Um, sure."

"Great!" Director Ryehill replied, immediately clasping his hands together as he often did. "Then, let's get going."

As the man turned on his heel with Intendant Lancet, Seth fell into step behind them. To his surprise, Elena joined them. As if reading his thoughts, the noblewoman leaned slightly toward him. "They want to talk with me as well."

"Okay," Seth mumbled before turning to Jenna and Devus. "See you later."

"Yeah. Later, mate," the Guardian answered first with a wave.

"Please don't say anything stupid," Jenna added, wrinkling her nose.

Seth offered her a faint smile. "I'll try not to."

They walked through the academy's garden in silence, the director's long strides measured and calm, his hands clasped behind his back; both his and Intendant Lancet's expressions were impossible to read. The hallways of the administrative wing were quieter than usual, barely any students in sight.

The moment they finally reached Director Ryehill's office, the man halted and turned to look over his shoulder. "Seth, wait here. We'll start with Elena."

Seth blinked, taken aback that they weren't going in together, but then nodded. "Alright."

Elena gave him a glance, then followed the director and the intendant inside. The oak door closed with a dull thud, leaving Seth standing alone in the empty corridor. The ticking of a distant clock was the only sound accompanying him as he leaned against the cold stone wall, arms crossed.

Minutes passed, and eventually the door creaked back open.

Elena stepped out, a smile tugging at her lips and obvious joy gleaming in her emerald eyes. Seems like everyone was worried for nothing, Seth thought, watching the noblewoman's face. Though before he could ask her what it was all about, the director's voice called out.

"Your turn, Seth."

With a sigh, Seth entered the office.

The inside was exactly as he remembered from two months ago: mahogany furniture, towering bookshelves, and the portraits of deities and powerful Wielders gracing the walls. Rays of the setting sun streamed through the tall, arched windows, bathing the massive desk at the center of the room in a soft, golden glow. At the moment, Director Ryehill was pouring tea into a small porcelain cup while Intendant Lancet stood behind him.

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"I'm glad to see you've healed," Director Ryehill said without looking up. "From what I recall, your arm was quite a mess."

"It was, sir," Seth replied simply.

The director finally glanced his way, a smile half-concealed in his beard. "If no one beats your score by tomorrow, you'll officially be the first commoner to end a semester at the top of the tower's ranking. That's quite an achievement. I hope the rewards that come with it will be to your liking."

Seth nodded. "I hope so too, sir."

Director Ryehill let out a dry chuckle before placing the teapot back down and finally settling behind his desk. The chair creaked as he leaned back to study Seth with a sharp gaze.

"You see, Seth," the man began. He paused a brief instant to take a sip. "Many of the Houses strongly complained after your… fight with Lucius. Some demanded your expulsion, others asked for… well, far worse."

Near the window, Intendant Lancet snorted. "We told them it was an accident. Even if we all know it wasn't."

Seth stayed silent, eyes narrowing. His mind wandered back to that moment: the crack of Lucius' bone beneath his fist, the stunned expression on noble's face just before his body had flown across the arena. Even if the bastard would never walk again, Seth could simply not be satisfied with that.

He doesn't deserve to be alive, he thought. Not for what he and his House did.

Director Ryehill let the silence stretch before continuing, "Also, it's partially because of my letter that you've been granted a trial. Without it, you'd already be in prison waiting for your execution. Of course… things like that don't come for free. I protected you, so now I would like you to return the favor."

Seth's face darkened and his jaw clenched as he looked down at his forearm where the crown's Scribe had engraved the enchantment that prevented him from leaving Kastal or its Rifts. The letters from Surani's House and the Adventurer Guild backing his plea of self-defense had also helped secure him a trial. Still, the director wasn't wrong—Seth owed him.

Nightmare scoffed inside the teardrop. 'Humans… always trying to extort things out of people.'

Ignoring the direwolf's comment, Seth looked at the director. "What favor?"

Ryehill's eyes gleamed faintly, his fingers underneath his chin. "In four weeks, the king meets with the Empress of the Bridan Empire in Oskon to set the terms and stakes of the upcoming war. As is custom, there will be exhibition fights."

"Skirmishes with protecting barriers," Intendant Lancet explained, picking up. "Their best against ours. They want to humiliate us, show everyone that opposing them is suicide. Meanwhile, we… want to save face."

Seth tilted his head involuntarily on the side. "And you want me to fight? How am I considered one of the nation's bests? I'm only Low-Iron"

"There'll be two brackets," Director Ryehill answered. "Rank 21 to 40, and Rank 41 to 60."

Seth's eyes narrowed further. "There's a big difference between a Rank 40 and a Rank 30 like me, sir."

"Indeed," the director replied. "But you still have four weeks. That's plenty of time for you to break through Rank 30 and to close most of that gap… and you have your direwolf."

Seth's gaze lowered to the polished floor. Fighting for Kastal—for its greedy king and rotten nobles who all pushed commoners to the verge of hunger—it didn't feel right. Why should he fight those people of the empire to save their pride?

And even though the Champions of Chaos had told him that no one from Draeria could come to Kastal because of the war's amendments, was it really wise to parade before the nation's most powerful figures? He would need something to hide his golden eyes during those skirmishes. They had given him away to Orwen… and they could do the same to others.

After a moment, Seth lifted his head. "And if I say no?"

Intendant Lancet's expression shifted, and her face hardened. "You don't—"

"It's fine, Veronica," Director Ryehill said, interrupting her while raising a hand. His eyes then settled back on Seth. "You can say no, Seth. We won't force you. But… that choice will have consequences." The man leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "It would certainly tarnish the Champion of Chaos' reputation. And you… would be passing on the kinds of rewards men dream of their entire life."

Seth remained silent, his fists tightening. They always play the same game. Threatening me, then if it doesn't work, dangling a carrot in front of me while hoping I comply.

'We should do it,' Nightmare chimed in. 'It doesn't bind us to do anything except beat up a few snobbish nobles. That's pretty much a free carrot.'

'Yeah, but we aren't strong enough to fight them.'

Aside from enhancers, there were only two things that could boost his strength in such a short amount of time. The first was hatching Colossus's egg—something he couldn't exactly request without raising too many questions. The second was something that could enhance the quality of his spells. If Beastmaster Rage or Phantom Punch were to reach Exceptional or even Flawless quality, it'd give him another massive leap in terms of attack power.

He hesitated for a moment when suddenly something surfaced in his mind—an object that would definitely allow him boost his spells' quality… and might also help to hatch Colossus, thanks to the guarded knowledge it held.

Seth met Director Ryehill's gaze. "Can I get something right now instead, sir?"

A flicker of interest, perhaps amusement, crossed the man's features. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "I'm listening."

"A book," Seth immediately answered. "Theory of Spells and Aether, by Eldric."

A deep hush fell over the room for an instant, and air seemed to thicken, to press in on him. Intendant Lancet made a small, choked sound. She took a half-step forward, her eyes narrowing. "There's no way we—"

"Intendant." Ryehill didn't raise his voice, didn't even look at her. He simply raised a hand, and she fell silent, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. His dark eyes remained locked on Seth.

The silence stretched; the director didn't rush to answer and simply waited. Finally, he leaned back, the leather of his chair groaning once again in protest, and stroked his graying beard.

"You understand that I cannot simply hand a copy to you," he finally answered. "At least without consulting a few other Nobles Houses." The man then paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "I will make the necessary inquiries. But things will be… delicate. I should have an answer for you by tomorrow."

Seth blinked, surprised by the lack of resistance from the man. Are Professor Reat and the Champions of Chaos the reason why?

"Thank you, sir."

Director Ryehill nodded, and a faint glimmer rose in his eyes. "But If I were you, I'd keep all this to myself. Even if others say no, a few people could still get quite angry that you ask for such a thing. And we both know that you already have enough enemies."

"I will, sir."

"Good." Ryehill smiled. "Then… we'll speak again tomorrow."

Seth stood, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. "Thank you, sir," he said before turning and bowing respectfully at the Intendant Lancet. "Ma'am."

Without waiting for more, he then left the office.

The moment the heavy door closed behind him with a soft thump, Seth shut his eyes for a brief moment. If whoever the director had to ask said yes, he could be one of first commoners to get his hand on Eldric's book.

Aether theory, spell-crafting, affinity development, secrets behind that mystical energy—all precious knowledge the king and the Houses guarded to maintain the gap between commoners and nobles. Somewhere in those pages, Seth was convinced, lay the key to make Colossus hatch. How to speed up the process so he could be by their side as soon as possible.

And soon… that might be within his reach.

The moment she saw Seth, Elena pushed herself off the wall. Her emerald eyes seemed to still gleam with excitement. "So?" she asked with an urging tone.

Seth raised both hands. "So…?"

"Did you say yes?" she pressed. "Will you come… to Oskon?"

"It depends on them," Seth answered. He let a smile creep up onto the corners of his lips as he held her gaze. "But that would be great."

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