"Knights are the core, the very heart of this world. Sacrifice is the currency of a Knight's success. The Academy's Champions should learn, above all, that their ego always comes second, third, and perhaps even fourth when it comes to the greater good of the world."

The Headmaster, a rather whimsical person most of the time, is lecturing us, the ten Champions—the Generation of Legends. We are in his office, a large room where two other people are standing behind the man.

Two Vice-Principals.

One of them is none other than Vice Principal Lyanna. The other is Vice Principal John, the strongest man right after the Headmaster himself.

"Only three of you managed to withstand Soul Magic. That is, I fear, inexcusable."

"Headmaster," Asterion rebuts, making me wince, "you must understand that we were simply not prepared for such an occurrence! How could we have expected to face such a strong Cultist?!"

The usually calm Highblood is blistering. He did not expect the Headmaster to lecture them in this manner.

"You should have expected that and more, Asterion Doryphoros. You, better than anybody else, should have known what the consequences of failure are. It's in your damn name, child."

He's talking about Asterion's background.

While in the Tomb of Fate, Asterion revealed to me what his name really means. Asterion, his first name, comes from Aster, the Titan of Stars, the servant of the strongest Evil God, Asmodeus himself.

The last name, Doryphoros, 'he who carries the spear,' is a mockery that, apparently, the Highbloods perpetrate toward those whose blood belongs to an Evil Good: he doesn't really fight with a spear. His expertise is something else.

"Headmaster," I say, bowing slightly, "when you summoned us, I wondered why. You're right in saying we should have done better. Yet, we won. We did what was expected of us. We are the Generation of Legends. When you speak to my friend, I will have to beg you to refrain from bringing up some idiotic practices that condemn someone just because of their blood. Asterion, just like everybody else here, tried their best. Next time, we won't take this long. Nor will we allow so many innocent people to die. I made a mistake, I was their Guide and I miscalculated. Anything you want to blame on my companions, you should blame on me. I was leading them. I allowed for this to happen."

My companions are about to protest my taking all the blame, yet words die in their throats when a terrifying aura almost flattens us to the ground.

"Jacob Cloud. Do you really accept the blame for those who died? I hear that your own Squire almost lost his life because ten Champions left everybody else behind. Not one person thought of the safety of their escort. Not one. Blinded by greed for power, by ego, you all dived in a pond for what, power?"

"I do take the blame," I say, bowing my head.

"If power is all you want, you shouldn't have joined the Academy," the Headmaster raises his voice, which tinges with bitterness. "You should have joined the Cult of Asmodeus if power was the only thing you craved."

Nine Champions try to fight against the aura in order to rebuke, to shout to the Headmaster that they would never.

I, instead, give in, and I place one knee on the ground, lowering my head.

"We failed, Headmaster," I say. "All those lives… we failed them. Despite our resources, despite our power—we failed. We'll take whatever punishment you deem worth and move on. This mistake won't be repeated twice."

I hear a long sigh—not from the Headmaster. I peer behind for a moment, seeing Vyrrak taking the knee himself.

"We failed. I agree with Jacob. We'll take the punishment."

Iskara is the second.

She doesn't sigh, she just looks straight at the Headmaster before slowly taking a knee and bowing her head.

"We will do better."

Orrivane follows, then Sabrina, Boomgar, Kaelric, and Kai.

Last, I see Zibrek hesitating, looking at the ground almost in disgust, before taking a knee.

Asterion hesitates for a moment longer before doing the same.

"We shall do better."

* * *

"Headmaster," Vice Principal John speaks after the Champions have left. "Was that really necessary?"

"I agree with John," Vice Principal Lyanna says. "They've killed a Cultist at the Peak of Diamond Rank. Sure, they're Champions, but this is an impressive feat even for someone with a Rainbow Skill."

"Unlike you two, I know the real reason why the man died. And it's not the Champions," the Headmaster adjusts his thin glasses and sits back at his desk. "It's Jacob Cloud. The Fake Champion. I've asked Iskara Drazhal how they managed to win and then had Cloud write out a report."

"I've not seen such a report," Vice Principal John says.

"It's for my eyes only," the Headmaster says pointedly, causing Vice Principal John to stand straighter than before.

What can it possibly contain that the Headmaster would bar John from reading it? Vice Principal Lyanna wonders.

"So, Headmaster, what can you tell us, then?" Vice Principal John asks in a neutral voice.

"John, how far do you think power can bring a man?"

"That seems like a rhetorical question, Headmaster."

"Please, answer," the man said from behind his rims. "I would like to know your opinion."

Vice Principal John looks at Vice Principal Lyanna for a moment before returning his gaze to the Headmaster. There's something in his eyes, a glint of bother that he rarely lets through. Even John's patience clearly gets tested every once in a while.

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"You're one of, if not the most, powerful beings we're aware of. Outside the three Great Races, there's barely a handful of people who would even dare defy a command of yours. That allowed the Academy to be as powerful as it is, it allowed Knights to—"

"Wrong," the Headmaster replies. "The Academy stood before I took over. What created it was a resource that very few, not even you, clearly, understand. The Academy was founded upon courage. Courage is bred from a great cause. And a great cause is something easy to find. Power, John, is not a great cause. As I told the Champions, if that's what you believe, you might as well join the Cult."

Vice Principal John narrows his eyes—which, in his own language, might as well mean he's shouting at the Headmaster.

"I sacrificed everything to be here, Headmaster. I would never—"

"John," the Headmaster says with an irritated tone, "the Academy is a place for those who are ready to give everything and expect nothing back. Some causes are worth everything. And the true reward is the deed itself. We don't shun glory nor rewards, we don't call ourselves monks or nuns. But when the world is about to fall into the Abyss, we stand between the monsters and the innocents. We alone must be ready to give everything, John. Everything. You still have your life. Count yourself lucky. Now, you're dismissed."

Vice Principal John walks out of the office after a cold stare at his boss.

"Headmaster, you're in a real mood today," Vice Principal Lyanna says warily. "Is there anything on your mind you'd like to share?"

"Lyanna, I know you are trying to hitch a ride on Cloud's Karma. I won't stop you from helping him and reaping some benefits, but do not meddle too much. You're barred from providing any more help until the end of the year—and you'll wait my say-so before resuming any activity. Do you understand?"

Vice Principal Lyanna goes stiff and then bows.

"I understand, Headmaster."

"You're dismissed."

Once the woman leaves the room, the Headmaster looks outside the window.

"They're not ready. A great war is coming. The great war. I don't know when, but I saw what breeds in the Dungeons. There's too much wild Mana going around. Asmodeus has gathered more resources and followers than I had expected. Yet, he risked it all to try to kill Cloud. Something about that simple human worries him. He would have never risked the Karma otherwise."

The Headmaster scratches his chin.

"What's in your future, Jacob Cloud?"

* * *

"You said I could eat anything!" Lancelot cries out, wrestling me for a giant piece of meat on a skewer.

"HOW DID YOU SPEND SIX THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED PLATINUM COINS IN A WEEK?!" I shout at the top of my lungs. "ARE YOU TRYING TO BANKRUPT ME?!"

"This is very high-quality meat! It's harvested from Platinum-Ranked monsters! It helps me grow stronger!"

"YOU'RE BANKRUPTING ME!"

"You said I could buy any food I wanted once we got back!"

"I THOUGHT YOU HAD SOME SHAME IN THIS FAT BELLY OF YOURS!"

"It's not fat! I'm just big-boned!"

Despite having gained many levels and being closer than ever to Platinum Rank, despite the increase in Attributes and Skills, Fatty manages to wrestle away the giant meat skewer. It starts chewing on it as fast as he can.

"SPIT THAT OUT! YOU PUT ME IN DEBT YOU DAMN IDIOT!"

"Too late!" he shouts between chomps, showering me in saliva and bits of meat. "We can't give it back half-eaten!"

I told Lancelot, Fatty, that he could eat anything he wanted on my dime after we got back from the Tomb of Fate. I even almost extended the same offer to every other Squire if it wasn't for the fact that I feared the bill would have gotten too high for me to pay back. Yet, it appears that I made the worst choice possible. I should have offered to pay for everybody but Fatty.

Somehow, he managed to spend the equivalent of a handful of Royal-grade Skills over a week.

"HOW ARE WE GOING TO PAY YOUR STUPID TAB, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON?!" I almost summon my Hellbane's Sword. "DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND—"

I stop myself halfway through, seeing the owner of the restaurant reach me and tap on my shoulder.

"A word?" he asks.

"Sure," I reply in defeat.

How many dishes would I have to wash in order to pay back this much? I barely had half a Diamond Coin left when we went to the Tomb of Fate. I have to pay back six thousand Platinum Coins now. That's six entire Diamond Coins!

"I know you're a Valemont kid, even if you were a bastard," the owner says. "Don't worry. We'll figure out a payment schedule. And your friend… anybody else would have died from ingesting so much high-density energy food in such a short time. You should probably get him checked."

The boy has a Draconic Constitution, Cloud. Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. He's absorbing that energy and storing it in his body, ready to process it. You didn't waste your money. You just invested it.

King Baalrek has been quite silent for the past week, and when he speaks again, I just nod to myself.

I return to Fatty, and I sit beside him.

This week, the Academy suspends its lessons in order for all the Apprentice Knights to have time to be visited by their family. This is a time of respite from the grueling start of one's life at Ytrial. I'm surprised, honestly, that the Headmaster accounted for something like this, that he would be so benevolent and soft on the students.

But the more I know about the man, the more it makes sense. I don't think he cares for senseless cruelty or harshness. He did order us to go to the Tomb of Fate, and he must have known more than what Vice Principal John told us.

It's enough to worry about our enemies—I don't want to worry about the Headmaster, too.

And so, as Fatty eats through coin that I don't have, I rest my chin on my closed fist, looking toward the entrance of this restaurant.

Most students are going away. The Champions all left the Academy after the Headmaster raged at us. Those whose families are too poor to afford travel simply stay here, waiting.

I didn't hear anything from Kai or the rest of the Valemont.

I wonder what they're doing now.

Even though I'm reluctant to admit it, I sometimes think about my mother. In many ways, I would have liked to see her. Even just to—I don't know—tell her off. Just a word, you know?

"What are you thinking about, Boss?"

I turn toward Fatty, who's chomping on the food.

"Nothing," I sigh. "We'll have to figure out a way to make more money. I'll have to talk to Elder Karl. We'll also take a few Dungeon Quests above our Rank in order to make the money back."

"Fine with me, Boss. All this food makes me feel as strong as an ox!"

"Good," I say, nodding at Fatty, trying to hide my melancholy. "At least you got your color back."

Fatty acts as if he didn't hear me, but I know that he did fear for his life. When he woke up after King Baalrek eliminated Asmodeus's possession, he was a mess. He kept screaming and thrashing around.

Being almost skewered alive clearly did not sit well with him.

I can't blame him. I should have done better. Next time, I won't make such a stupid mistake.

Then, as I'm about to order some food for myself, I hear someone call my name.

"Jacob!"

I turn to see Kai and his enormous frame walking through the door of this establishment.

"Kai? I thought you had left Ytrial."

"I did! But the family is all here! Our damn cousins, too!"

"Huh?" I frown. "Ok? That's…" A mote of excitement goes through me. "So… now what?"

"Mom's here! Come, she wants to see you!"

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