"The Hall of Communion," Evelyn said, stopping before the doors.

She placed her hand on the wood.

It glowed, recognizing her mana signature, and slowly swung open with a sound like wind chimes.

Inside, the light was soft, filtered through the crystal walls. Rows of stone benches faced a raised dais.

And standing on that dais was a woman.

She was breathtaking.

She wore simple white robes that seemed to flow like water around her form.

Her hair was white as snow, cascading down her back in intricate braids. Her ears were pointed—unmistakably elven—but her presence felt far more ancient than Elara's.

Her eyes were a deep, endless blue, holding a wisdom and a sorrow that felt older than the forest itself.

Evelyn, the S-Rank hunter who bowed to no one, stepped forward and inclined her head deeply.

"Honorable Professor Lysandra," Evelyn said, her voice filled with rare, genuine reverence. "The first-years have arrived."

The woman smiled. It was a gentle, radiant expression that seemed to light up the room, warming the cold stone.

"Welcome, children," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it resonated in our chests, warm and comforting, bypassing the ears to speak directly to the spirit.

"I have been waiting for you."

I stared at her from the middle of the pack. I knew that face. I knew that name.

Professor Lysandra. In the game lore, she was listed simply as a 'guest lecturer' or the 'Spirit Keeper.' But her hidden bio, accessible only after unlocking the True Ending, told a different story.

Lysandra

Age: 2,000+

Race: High Elf (Ancient)

Class: Spirit Walker

Contractor: Tricksy (Fairy Queen )

She wasn't just a professor. She was a living legend, a relic of an era when elves and humans fought side by side against the Demon Kings.

She was the guardian of this Sanctuary.

And as her blue eyes swept over the crowd, they stopped, just for a moment, on me. A flicker of confusion crossed her serene face, quickly hidden.

She sensed it. The Void.

_____________

The Hall of Communion was silent, save for the soft rustle of robes and the collective, awe-struck breathing of the students.

Professor Lysandra's presence was a gravity well, pulling every eye, every thought towards her.

It wasn't just respect. It was fascination.

The boys—Leon, Aiden, Chris, even the usually aloof Eric—were staring with wide eyes, a mix of admiration and something distinctly… teenage.

Her beauty was transcendent, otherworldly.

The girls, however, had a different reaction. Maria narrowed her eyes, her arms crossing tighter. Selena's expression was polite but stiff. Lyra was outright glaring, clearly annoyed that someone else was the center of attention.

Even Elara looked conflicted, torn between reverence for an ancient of her race and envy of her radiant presence.

"She's… very pretty," Aiden whispered, a little too loudly, his face flushing.

"Shut up," Lyra hissed, elbowing him hard in the ribs. "Have some dignity."

Lysandra smiled again, seemingly oblivious or perhaps simply used to the reaction. She gestured to a pedestal in front of her. Resting on it was a large, clear orb, swirling with multicolored mist.

"This is a Spirit Orb," she explained, her voice melodic. "It acts as a beacon. A point where You will place your hand upon it and project your mana. If your soul resonates with a spirit in the Sanctuary, they will answer your call and appear."

She looked over the crowd. "Who will be first?"

Hesitation rippled through the room. Going first was a risk. Failure would be public.

Then, a soft voice broke the silence.

"May I?"

Elara Moonshade stepped forward. Her movements were calm, but her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the pendant around her neck.

Lysandra's smile widened warmly. "Of course, Princess. The forest recognizes its own."

Elara walked up to the dais. She didn't place her hand on the orb immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered a few words in the ancient elven tongue. Then, she touched the crystal.

The mist didn't just swirl; it sang. A soft, harmonious chime filled the air, and a gentle breeze swept through the hall, smelling of wildflowers and rain.

From the swirling light, a tiny figure emerged. It was no larger than a hand, with six gossamer wings that beat so fast they were a blur. Its hair was a pale, stormy grey, and its eyes were bright green.

"Caelira!" Elara breathed, her face lighting up with pure joy.

The tiny spirit zipped around her, leaving a trail of sparkles, before landing gently on her shoulder.

"A Wind Elemental Spirit," Lysandra announced, her voice filled with approval. "And not a new bond. This spirit has known you for a long time, hasn't she?"

Elara nodded, stroking the spirit's tiny head with a finger. "Since I was ten. She chose me in the Royal Gardens."

A murmur of confusion went through the students.

"Wait," a student from Class B whispered. "If she already has one, why did she do the ritual? Can she get another?"

Lysandra heard him. She turned to the class, her expression turning educational.

"A valid question. The bond between a Spirit and a Hunter is exclusive. It is a pact of the soul. If a Hunter dies, the spirit returns to the Spirit World, often losing much of its power in the process. Some fade entirely. Others, like Elemental Spirits, may devolve into lesser Fairy Spirits, forced to begin their cultivation anew."

She gestured to Caelira. "Because their fates are so intertwined, a spirit will almost never bond with someone already contracted. To attempt a second bond is to insult the first. Princess Elara merely demonstrated the resonance."

Elara stepped down, Caelira nuzzling her cheek affectionately. The display set a high bar.

"Next," Lysandra called.

Selena Veylan stepped up. Her posture was regal, but her eyes betrayed her nervousness. She placed her hand on the orb.

Her mana flared—a unique blend of Shadow and Light. The orb pulsed with a twilight glow.

A moment later, a small ball of light drifted down from the ceiling. It unfolded into a tiny, four-winged fairy, glowing with a soft, golden light but trailing shadows like a cloak.

"A Twilight Fairy Spirit," Lysandra identified. "A rare duality. Excellent."

Selena beamed, cupping the tiny spirit in her hands. "It's... beautiful."

"It has no name yet," Lysandra reminded her.

"Only Elemental Spirits and Queens carry their own names. You must name it to seal the bond."

"I will," Selena whispered, returning to her spot, showing the spirit to a fascinated Leon.

One by one, the students went up.

Eric stepped up, determined. His Light affinity flared, sharp and blinding. A screech pierced the air, and a massive, crystalline eagle descended—a [Luminous Roc]. It perched on Eric's arm, preening, its feathers refracting light like diamonds.

Even Evelyn Whitehound took a turn, at the students' urging. She placed her hand on the orb with a casual elegance. The orb turned a deep, magma red. A small, scaly creature materialized on her shoulder—a [Magma Chameleon], a Natural Spirit beast.

And It was her already contacted spirit.

"Fits you, Instructor," Aiden grinned. "Dangerous and hard to see coming."

Evelyn just smirked, scratching the lizard's chin.

Finally, it was my turn.

"Michael Wilson," Evelyn called out.

The room went quiet. The "Commoner King." The anomaly.

I walked up the steps. The floor felt cold. I could feel the eyes on me—Maria's curiosity, Eric's scrutiny, Lysandra's ancient, knowing gaze.

I placed my hand on the orb. It felt cool and smooth.

"Relax," Lysandra whispered, leaning closer. "Let your mana flow. Do not hold back.".

I tried. I really did. I pushed my mana into the orb, trying to keep it neutral, trying to suppress the dark, abyssal taint of Draken and Nox that clung to my soul.

The mist in the orb swirled… and then turned a murky, dull grey.

Outside, the forest went silent. The wind stopped. The motes of light that had been dancing in the air inside the hall froze.

Then, they fled.

Tiny spirits darted away from the dais, hiding behind pillars, burying themselves in the floor. The air around me grew heavy and cold.

No beam of light. No roar. No spirit.

Just… emptiness. A dead zone of mana around me.

A minute passed. Two. The silence stretched, becoming painful.

Lysandra frowned deeply. She reached out, touching the orb herself, as if checking for a malfunction.

"Strange," she murmured, her voice troubled. "The spirits… they are recoiling. They are… afraid."

She looked at me, her blue eyes piercing, stripping away my layers. "Child… what do you carry in your soul? It is… vast. And dark."

I pulled my hand back, my face burning. "I… don't know," I lied.

The whispers started immediately.

"He failed?"

"Rank 1 and no spirit?"

"Look at them run. It's like he's a monster."

"Maybe he's defective."

I stood there, the empty dais feeling like a pillory. Nox was growling in my mind, furious at the rejection, furious at the weakness of these

"sparkles." ...Burn them...

"It seems," Lysandra said, her voice filled with a sad finality, "that the Sanctuary has no partner for you. Your affinity is… incompatible with the nature of this place."

She gestured for me to step down.

I walked back to the line, keeping my face blank, ignoring Eric's smug grin. It was fine. I had a plan. I had the Beast Pens.

But the humiliation stung.

But before I could reach my spot, Lysandra spoke again.

"Elara Moonshade. Please, come forward again."

Elara paused, surprised, her hand on her new stag spirit. "Me? But I already—"

"Not for a contract," Lysandra said, her voice suddenly serious, losing its gentle warmth. Her eyes glowed with a sudden, intense light. "For a message."

She looked at the Elven Princess, and then, her gaze flicked to me, sharp and questioning.

"The Guardian," she whispered, her voice echoing in the silent hall. "The Dragon of Light… it has awoken. And it wishes to speak to the blood of the Moonshade."

(To be continued in Chapter 183)

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.