[Third Day]

After the early morning training, the students were told to report to Guinevere's office in an hour.

William was currently seated inside the bathing pool, his arms resting on the stone edge, eyes closed as warm water lapped gently against his shoulders.

The morning training had gone a little chaotic for him.

He had pushed himself harder than usual, trying to finish every exercise as quickly as possible just so he could get more time with his sword afterward. Stamina drills, resistance runs, balance exercises—he rushed through all of them, ignoring the sting in his muscles and the way his breathing kept hitching.

But the sword training itself didn't go as he hoped.

The weapon was heavy. Not just in weight, but in presence. Worse, it could disassemble mid-motion if his control slipped even slightly. That meant he had to constantly keep two things in mind at once—to not lose his footing and to ensure the sword didn't separate while swinging.

A single mistake would send a segment flying, ruining the flow of the strike entirely.

It was irritating.

Painfully slow progress.

He knew he was improving, but it wasn't the kind of improvement that felt satisfying. Each swing demanded focus. Each step required precision. There was no room to relax, no space for instinct to fully take over.

Still… it wasn't all bad.

Whenever frustration crept in, he found himself imagining an actual battle. An enemy pressing in. The moment where the sword's unique nature would turn from a liability into an advantage. The way its disassembly could become unpredictable, lethal.

That thought alone pushed him to swing again. And again.

'Haah…'

Exhaling deeply, he slid further into the pool, letting the water cover more of his body. His muscles loosened as the warmth seeped in, dulling the lingering ache in his arms and legs.

For a while, he let his mind go blank.

Then, uninvited, a familiar thought surfaced.

'I wonder what Nana might be doing…'

It had been more than three days since they last met.

The little one must be lonely by now. William knew her habits too well. Even after he had told her that her big brother and sister had urgent work to attend to, she wouldn't truly believe it.

Nana was the kind of child who waited.

She would sit near the trees, pretending to play, but always watching. Always listening. Expecting them to appear at any moment.

That was why William had been considering asking Guinevere for permission to see her. Just once would be enough. Even a brief meeting would reassure the child.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pushed himself up from the pool—

—and froze.

"God," he gasped, instinctively tensing, "You need to make a sound or something when you arrive."

The bloodied figure levitating before him tilted its head slightly.

"I assumed you would sense me now," the anomaly replied calmly.

William let out a breath and grabbed a dry towel, wiping the water from his body with quick movements. "Well, I was deep in thought," he said, glancing at the floating form. "You're appearing quite often these days, aren't you?"

"Our connection is getting stronger."

William paused mid-motion. "Because I used Nyx?"

That didn't quite add up.

If Nyx alone were the reason, then his younger self would have seen this being far more frequently. Back before joining the Academy, William had relied on Nyx almost daily.

Yet Lamb had barely appeared then.

Just like William's confusion had no clear destination, Lamb offered no explanation.

Silence settled between them.

Eventually, William stepped out of the bathing area and moved toward his wardrobe, scanning through the neatly arranged clothes.

"I was wondering," he said casually, "if you could teach me something more about that spell."

Lamb followed, shifting from the bathroom to the room itself like a memory that refused to be left behind. "Are you referring to the spell you used in the dungeon?"

William nodded. "Of course. That one. I have control over the others."

Dominion Void.

That was the name he had given it.

Even so, he wasn't sure if he could use it again. The spell felt distant, unstable. Like something borrowed rather than owned.

He had only just managed to grasp Drop of Oblivion. Trying to reach for another unstable power felt like stepping onto a second boat while barely balancing on the first.

One wrong move, and he'd sink.

Lamb remained silent for a moment longer than usual before finally speaking. "Before that, tell me this. Why do you seek more power than you already possess?"

William hummed, turning to face him.

Crossing his arms, he asked with a faint snicker, "You do know I'm nowhere near the pinnacle, right? Recently, a woman showed me how she could've harmed me badly enough to expose my vulnerability."

The memory surfaced instantly.

The first day. The closeness. The realization.

It had been a long time since anyone had come that close to exploiting one of his weaknesses. The fact that someone could even do that unsettled him more than he liked to admit.

Lamb didn't hesitate. "Couldn't you have killed her before she closed that distance?"

William sighed. "What exactly are you trying to imply?"

"I believe," Lamb said evenly, "that you should move at your own pace rather than chase something new."

William rolled his eyes. "Next time, you can just say no."

Not that he expected much to begin with.

One thing he had learned about Lamb was that this being was indecisive to an absurd degree. Whether it was about its own past or its connection to William, it never gave clear answers.

That alone made these conversations exhausting.

Deciding to end it there, William finished changing and slipped into the uniform provided by the Great Hall.

It was essentially a fitted body suit, dull grey in color, with the emblem of the organization displayed on his chest. The fabric was comfortable enough—not too tight, not restrictive in the slightest.

He didn't hate it.

But he didn't like it either.

The color was boring.

After combing his hair, William stepped out of the cabin.

His brows lifted almost immediately.

Emma was standing outside, engaged in conversation with a familiar violet-haired boy.

She seemed unusually chatty, explaining something with light gestures, while the boy listened attentively, nodding along with a polite smile.

As William approached, Brutus glanced in his direction, gave Emma one last nod, and walked away.

William watched him leave before turning to Emma. "What was that about?"

"He asked me about the spell I used yesterday. Said hit mother also had a similar skill…" Emma replied, turning toward him.

And then she stopped.

She stared.

William waited a second, then hummed softly. "You okay?"

She didn't respond immediately.

Noticing the glint in her eyes, William felt a faint sense of unease.

Looking down at himself, he said, "Don't tell me I look good in this."

Emma sighed.

Reaching up, she cupped his left cheek gently. "Whatever you assume," she said quietly, "in my eyes, nothing looks bad on you."

William rubbed the back of his head, ears warming. "Well… if you say so."

Seeing him flustered never got old.

Smiling, Emma hooked her arm with his.

They began walking toward the main building, the path familiar by now.

"So," William asked, "any idea what this meeting could be about?"

Emma shrugged. "Whatever it is, I just don't want another lecture."

William let out a dry chuckle.

Unfortunately for them—

This was, in fact, a lecture.

"Today," Guinevere began, "We would learn more about the Death Sinks. Why they spawn, how to evaluate the danger level and what could be the best course of action you can adopt in different circumstances."

She was standing beside a white board, arms crossed. The big table was removed and chairs were arranged for the twelve to sit.

Emma and William were sitting near the end with Gizel on his left.

They were the last ones to arrive but thankfully, the black-haired woman didn't nag them since she herself just arrived now.

Taking a pause, she asked, "How many of you know what Death Sink is?"

Every single person lifted their hands and it was understandable too given things like these people hear just by sitting in a group. No book or teacher is required to know about the hell holes.

Pointing at Darven, Guinevere said, "You,"

The said boy answered calmly, "They are the gateways that connect the mortal plain to the underworld."

Guinevere nodded, "And what does it take for them to appear at certain locations?"

Darven responded once again without much thinking, "A place that lacks human populace so that Nyx could gather and distort the space to form a bridge."

Guinevere nodded, "You are right…but," her gaze turned heavy as she added, "What if I tell you that recently, a Death Sink has appeared in the heart of a military camp?"

Everyone fell silent.

°°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading.

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