143 hours later
Location: Uron Middle School, Tessia Sector
Tagatha sat at her desk, staring at the blade laid carefully across its surface. The weapon was thin, razor-thin, its steel edges gleaming faintly under the classroom's crystal-light. Small golden hexagonal patterns adorned either side of the blade, etched with meticulous care, while the hilt curved outward with a guard designed to protect the wielder's hand completely. Four crystals were set into the guard, each one glowing faintly in its distinct hue: green, deep blue, orange, and violet. The handle was wrapped in pristine brown leather, polished to perfection.
The teacher's voice droned on at the front of the room, explaining the different spells and techniques assigned to each combat role. It was valuable information, no doubt but for Tagatha, it was little more than repetition. She had already absorbed these lessons years ago through relentless tutoring and her own obsessive love for study. This, unfortunately, was knowledge she had long since outgrown.
Normally, weapons weren't allowed within a classroom, at least, not in ordinary schools. But Uron Middle School was no ordinary place. Its purpose was to shape and cultivate the next generation of hunters, arc-forgers, soldiers, and royal guards, grooming students for entry into the Great Academies. The truth, however, was far harsher: only five percent of its pupils would ever advance to those lofty institutions. The rest would become royal guards, foot soldiers, or hunters at best. Still, because of its unique purpose, Uron enforced different rules, allowing students to carry their weapons in class under strict regulations, teaching them not only to study but to wield.
Her gaze drifted lazily across the room, where her classmates practiced with visible excitement. Many were manifesting their elemental cores, attempting to mimic the demonstration spell that best suited the classification they believed they belonged to. Tagatha recognized most of them, though she knew that true mastery of classifications would not come until high school.
A blonde-haired boy raised his hand, water gathering into a trembling orb in his palm. Beside him, a black-haired girl clenched her fist, her hand igniting in flames that licked hungrily at the air. Another boy compacted wind into his grasp until it whirled dangerously around his fingers. Everywhere she looked, students displayed their unique elemental affinities.
Unlike spirit beasts or demon beasts, humans and demi-humans, along with any other known race, were bound to a single element by birth. One element only, determined by their fighting style, their personality, and their core. Crystals, runes, and other external aids could widen the path, but unaided, they were forever tethered to that singular affinity.
Tagatha sighed softly, her stomach twisting as she watched her peers show off. There was always a churn of unease in her whenever she saw elements manifested so freely. She turned her attention back to her blade, letting her fingers glide along its edges, the steel cool beneath her skin. The motion was grounding, a silent reassurance. Around her, every student seemed older, stronger, more certain of themselves. It was only natural, most of them were at least a year her senior. Tagatha, after all, had only completed her own test a few months prior.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden crackle of static, followed by the sharp voice of the intercom.
"Tagatha Virell, please report to the front office. Tagatha Virell, to the front office immediately."
The classroom stilled, dozens of curious eyes shifting toward her.
Tagatha rose abruptly from her desk, the legs of her chair scraping against the polished floor. Every head in the classroom turned toward her, though their expressions held no surprise, sheathing her blade. Whispers spread almost immediately, the voices sharp enough for her to catch fragments as she strode between the rows of desks.
"Looks like the so-called prodigy got herself in trouble again."
"Yeah… guess their 'future hunter' is going to be expelled sooner than we thought."
Their words slid past her like rain against stone. She didn't give them the satisfaction of a reaction, her face calm as she left the classroom and made her way toward the main office.
The head office secretary was already seated at her desk, typing furiously on her crystal-powered device. She didn't even glance up as Tagatha entered, simply gesturing toward the seat in front of her desk. Tagatha sat silently, watching her.
The clatter of keys filled the air, broken occasionally by the sharp click of the backspace. To Tagatha, the sound was familiar. She had been here more times than she could count, each visit etched into memory. She was no stranger to disciplinary reports.
Her ears pricked as she caught faint whispers from beyond the glass-paneled hallway. A cluster of students had gathered, staring in with half-suppressed grins, no doubt relishing the chance to gossip about her being summoned once again. Inside, the office was otherwise silent, save for the faint hum of the hex-engines feeding spiritual energy into the electronics. The dull rhythm of typing was the only thing breaking the monotony. Tagatha's foot tapped against the marble floor in impatience, an old habit she could never quite bury.
She knew this room intimately, the marble tiles of pale aquatic blue, the ceiling and floor patterned with six hundred square panels, the massive painting hanging along the far wall. It depicted the ancient pantheon of gods, striking down a colossal dragon said to be the size of a planet. On either side hung thirty-foot drapes of pure white, framing the scene like a temple shrine. Beneath the painting stood a black projector mounted on golden brackets, its frame set with yellow, blue, and orange crystals, hex-runes etched across its back. The device displayed the latest reports on demon beast sightings and attacks, its faint glow casting shadows across the room.
Tagatha's eyes narrowed. She studied the secretary's posture, the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers faltered on the keys. Her typing was unsteady, the backspace pressed far too often. Her expression was tighter than usual, she seemed… distracted.
"Family in the attack?" Tagatha asked suddenly, her tone was more flat than intended.
The secretary, Miss Julia Herlin, froze mid-keystroke and finally looked up. Her glare was sharp. "And what made you think that, Miss Virell?"
"Your expression is more tense than usual," Tagatha replied. "Your typing is sloppy, backspace being used far more frequently than it should be. You're distracted. The projector isn't muted, so I assume the news has caught your attention. Which means the attack was close. Likely close to your home."
Julia exhaled through her nose, annoyed, though she couldn't entirely mask her unease. She leaned back in her chair, making the leather creaking faintly. "Yes. It was near my house, on the same block, in fact. I don't believe anyone was hurt, though." Her voice softened, if only slightly.
"Then you should focus on the report," Tagatha said evenly. Her tone was almost clinical, though it carried an edge that could be mistaken for mockery, which wasn't at all her intentions. "I'm sure the city guards dealt with the beast before it could reach anyone of importance."
The words struck like a barb. Julia straightened, her lips curling as irritation broke through her composure.
"Listen here, Miss Virell. Your family may carry royal blood, and you may believe yourself the smartest student in this school thanks to special treatment and perfect grades, but this behavior will not carry you when—if—you graduate. The military, the royal guard, even the academies, they will not be lenient. You have no fans, and this is not a game. Do I make myself clear?" Her glare was cold as ice.
Tagatha gave a curt nod. Not out of submission, but out of efficiency. Arguing with Julia was pointless. What was there to debate? She was the smartest in the school. She was the only person in her generation to achieve a perfect score on the HASVAA test, something no one else her age had managed, aside from world-class hunters. That score alone had placed her in advanced middle school, among older students preparing for the academies.
At thirteen, she was a year younger than the rest of her class, yet her grades were flawless. Her lineage was one of hunters, a spiritual bloodline that carried expectations of greatness. To her, the school's lessons were insultingly easy. Learning how to draft matrices, swinging wooden swords in the yard, practicing a fragment of arc-forging by tracing runic circles, it was child's play. The training grounds felt more like playgrounds than proving grounds.
And so she had gone beyond the walls. She had fought her first demon beast, low-level, yes, but real nonetheless. She had climbed the two-hundred-story wall surrounding the kingdom, dragging a greatsword strapped to her back, testing herself where the school refused to. For that, they called her reckless. For that, she was in trouble again. But wasn't that the essence of improvement?
If the rumors were true, Sin himself scaled the wall daily, lives with demon beasts which he slaughters easily, doing so in mere seconds, while stealing military weapons with impunity. If the kingdom's most wanted could achieve such feats, then how could the rest of them hope to catch him if they couldn't even replicate the basics? Sin and Taichi fought demon beasts every day. That was reality. And Tagatha intended to match it.
Julia's voice cut back infilled with disapproval. "You need to do better. I understand your desire to push yourself, but this, this isn't the way. Your father—"
Tylian Virell stepped into the office, his arrival drawing the eyes of every student pressed against the glass window. Conversations died instantly, replaced by hushed awe. He was not only one of the most accomplished arc-forgers in the Solis Kingdom, but also one of the few royals who had dedicated his life to the craft.
Tall, broad-shouldered, his posture perfect, Tylian carried an aura that demanded silence. His eyes locked immediately onto Tagatha, their stern intensity betraying where he had come from. He had the look of a man fresh from the forge-halls of the military, the lingering focus of one who had spent hours working with dangerous enchantments.
He wore the Solis Kingdom's arc-forger's uniform, a striking outfit designed both for protection and presentation. The coat was deep navy, trimmed with golden embroidery that traced the lines of old hexagrams across the chest and sleeves. Broad shoulders were reinforced with hardened leather plating etched with faint runic circuits that pulsed faintly with restrained light. Across his waist was a heavy belt of dark brown oronium-threaded leather, carrying crystal slots and metallic loops for tools. The gauntlets were forged steel, each inscribed with small hexes that flickered faintly as they hummed with stored spiritual energy, while the boots were black and polished, reinforced to withstand both molten sparks and battlefield terrain. His long black hair, tied back in a neat ponytail, brushed past his shoulders, swaying slightly with each step. It was clear enough, Tagatha's unusual hair came from her mother, though her neat style had always been her father's influence.
"Ah, Mr. Virell," Miss Julia Herlin stood quickly,more out of nerves than respect. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Tagatha here was just explaining her behavior. I'm sorry to say, but at this rate, if she receives another report, she could be expelled."
"The pleasure is mine," Tylian said curtly. His voice was calm, never one for wasted words.
Julia chuckled awkwardly at the blunt response, clearly unsettled. Whether it was his tone or simply the weight of his rank was difficult to tell, though Tagatha suspected it was both. Julia gestured toward her.
"As you know, your daughter was caught leaving campus, leaving the sector entirely, to fight demon beasts. We cannot allow any student to exit without proper clearance. And she was…"
"Scaling the wall of Solis," Tylian interrupted, his gaze snapping toward Tagatha. His eyes narrowed. "I am aware. Many spirit beasts were spotted that day, swarming the air. Even some of the guards were forced to use wind crystals. I assumed it had been a demon beast attack… but this summons makes it clear it was more likely due to her actions."
Tagatha lowered her eyes, not in shame or embarrassment, but in simmering annoyance. The guards had been unable to catch her on the wall, so they had resorted to wind crystals and spirit beasts to drag her back down. Her own recklessness had handed them the excuse to write her up yet again.
"W-well, yes," Julia stammered, "it was indeed her."
"Thank you for your help," Tylian said flatly, already turning toward the door. "I will handle it from here."
Without waiting for further comment, he left the office. Tagatha rose quietly and followed, her father's pace unyielding. Students shrank back as they passed, a mixture of awe and fear reflected in their eyes. Some called out greetings to Tylian, but he ignored them completely. His focus never wavered from the daughter trailing behind him.
The halls grew silent as they walked, lined with painted portraits of hunters who had graduated from this very academy. Few in number, past the double doors, the courtyard opened, where the great fountain rose in white stone. Students practicing swordsmanship in the training fields nearby froze as soon as the pair came into sight, their movements faltering.
Tagatha ignored them all. Their opinions meant little.
They reached the carriage waiting at the academy gates. The driver, Teejo Haku, one of Tylian's most trusted men, sat tall at the reins. Despite being only a few years older than Tagatha, Teejo had already reached the level of a spirit hunter, though he had refused the title. His gaze remained fixed forward, but there was no mistaking his awareness. He heard everything.
Inside, the carriage was silent. Tylian's piercing stare fixed on his daughter with a weight that could shatter the composure of most. Tagatha simply turned her face to the window, refusing to break.
"Mind explaining," Tylian began "how you managed to earn another report in the same week as the first one? I was in the middle of forging a sword, working on something I've been developing for weeks, only to receive word that my daughter decided it was a good idea to scale half the kingdom's outer wall. A wall that stands over a hundred stories tall."
"Two hundred," Tagatha muttered without looking up.
His gaze snapped toward her. Teejo let out a short, curt chuckle, quickly masking it beneath his usual composure.
Tylian's eyes narrowed further. Tagatha shrank under the weight of his stare, instantly mumbling, "S-sorry…"
The man exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as though pressing down his frustration. His breath hissed through his nostrils, an old habit whenever he was trying to calm himself. "What were you thinking? You already spend your days in drills and training sessions, and yet you somehow still have the energy to… this." His hand lifted, gesturing toward the world outside the carriage, the wall and the streets it towered over. "Do you even understand how dangerous that was?"
"Yes…" Tagatha's reply was small, her gaze falling to her lap. The softness of her tone, the guilty droop of her head, made his frustration falter. He couldn't hold onto his anger when she looked like that.
"You're not even fourteen," he muttered, shaking his head. "Why are you pushing yourself so recklessly?" Another sigh escaped him. His voice lowered, not quite pleading but wearier than before. "Just… let me work without wondering whether you've nearly gotten yourself killed again."
When he looked at her, his scolding wavered. Her eyes; large, uniquely dark blue, almost aquatic, met his with a tentative glance. The shades within them reflected a faint shimmer of light, reminding him painfully of her mother. Her hair, long and straight, fell down her back in flowing strands. Though black like his, streaks of deep navy and electric blue ran through the lower half, catching in the daylight that streamed through the carriage window. Freckles dotted her cheeks lightly, and in that guilty expression she wore, she was the mirror of her mother in her younger years. She was beautiful, almost disarmingly so. It made his chest tighten with guilt, as though he were the one in the wrong for raising his voice.
Tagatha shifted her gaze toward Teejo, whose dark eyes remained locked forward. He hadn't spoken a word, his posture rigid with discipline. He likely didn't approve of her actions either, but he had always taken her side when it came to disputes like this. Just not when her father was involved. Against Tylian, Teejo stayed silent.
The scenery outside the carriage slowly shifted. The looming towers of Tessia sector gave way to more structured, civilized streets. Spirit beasts that filled the skies near the academy grew fewer and farther between, replaced by brick and steel buildings lined neatly along the roads. Hexes and runes glowed faintly across their walls, basic enchantments meant for protection, never strong enough to stop a true assault, but enough to delay one until hunters arrived. Floating lamps hovered along the streets, each one dim in the daytime yet ready to flare to life if night fell or if the alarm of a demon beast sounded.
The streets here were quieter, safer. Civilization reasserted itself. And yet, inside the carriage, silence pressed down heavier than any city wall.
"Look…" His eyes dropped to his daughter. "You could have been killed today. Or worse, what if the guards mistook you for Sin or Taichi and decided to cut you down? Just… don't let that happen again, alright?"
The words were meant as a warning, but Tagatha's lips curled despite herself. To anyone else, being compared to criminals like Sin or Taichi was an insult, a condemnation. But to her, it was something different, something closer to a compliment. To be thought of in the same breath as the kingdom's most untouchable fighters stirred a flicker of pride in her chest.
She leaned forward, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, as if trying to comfort him rather than herself. She could only imagine how horrified he must have felt upon hearing of her stunt.
"I'm sorry," she murmured into his chest. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
For a moment, Tylian's expression softened. He smirked faintly, his arms tightening around her as he pulled her into a firm embrace. "Yeah, yeah… I forget sometimes. You're still just a kid, Taggie. Even if you act like an evolved spirit beast half the time." He leaned back, studying her face.
Tagatha pouted, glancing away as color warmed her cheeks. "Y'know… if you actually let me join you in arc-forging or on one of your missions, I'd be exhausted enough to stay out of trouble."
"Absolutely not," Tylian's tone snapped back into sternness, the shift immediate. "You know as well as I do, arc-forging is the most demanding classification in the world. It consumes body, mind, and spirit. And my missions…" He shook his head, his smirk gone. "They involve demon beasts and monsters. You could die before you even drew your weapon. Once you graduate, once you officially join the military, then we'll talk." His lips curved again, just slightly. "Not a moment sooner."
"Ugh… but it's not fair…" Tagatha slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms, her pout deepening.
"It's completely fair," Tylian said firmly, leaning back in his seat as though to suggest the discussion was over. "Do you have any idea how easy it is to die out there? People die by the second. I'd be damned if I let you throw yourself into that." His tone carried the finality of a verdict, unshakable and absolute.
But Tagatha wasn't finished. She sat forward, her voice rising with conviction. "But Dad, wouldn't gaining real experience on the field lessen my chances of dying when it's finally my turn to go out officially? If I start now, I'll already know what to do! Experience isn't something you can just teach in a classroom!"
Her words cut through the air with a weight that forced him to pause. For a moment, it didn't feel like debating a child; it felt like debating another adult. He sighed, pinching his temple. "Yes… if you managed to survive those first encounters, then maybe. But if not, there won't be an official time for you to go on the field. You'd be dead before it ever came. Give yourself a guarantee of reaching that point first."
Tagatha pouted but refused to back down. "Then I won't have a guarantee of surviving when I get there either! At least if I go now, I'll have a higher chance when it matters! Heck, there's no guarantee even here! What if a demon beast randomly manifests inside the city? At least then I'd know how to deal with one if I already had some field experience! Come on, Daaad, pleeease!"
Tylian stared at her for several long moments, his jaw set. Every word she spoke held weight and he hated her for it. Not because she was wrong, but because she was right. He crossed his arms, exhaling through his nose in aggravation, his foot tapping against the carriage floor as his thoughts churned. She always did this, always argued with the logic of someone years older, forcing him into corners he couldn't comfortably defend.
When he finally looked back at her, he was met with those wide, aquatic-blue eyes staring up at him, glistening with all the stubborn innocence of a child begging for just one victory. They locked on him like a puppy's gaze, and his foot tapped harder, betraying his frustration with himself more than with her.
"I'll think about it," he said at last, unwilling to concede completely. "But only if you stay out of trou—"
"Yesssss! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!!" Tagatha threw her arms around him, crushing him in a hug before he could even finish his sentence. Her grin stretched ear to ear.
From the front seat, Teejo smirked faintly, eyes still on the road.
Tylian scowled. "It's not a yes!"
It was, essentially, a yes.
Tylian let out a small sigh. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk Tagatha out of her ambitions, she was too much like her mother in spirit and too much like himself in stubbornness. But trouble was still trouble, and while she was suspended from school, she needed to be occupied. Both for her sake and his own; if she wasn't given structure, she would find mischief before twenty minutes passed.
"Alright then," he said finally. "Before I even think about allowing you to join me, you're still being punished. That means double drills. You'll be practicing your swordsmanship basics until I'm home. Am I clear?"
Normally, those words would have annoyed Tagatha. She already knew the basics inside and out, and she found more joy in testing weapons or crafting them, though the latter was out of reach, given her lack of spiritual energy reserves. But today was different. Today, the idea of strengthening herself brought her no frustration, only anticipation. Even punishment felt like a step toward proving she was ready. She snapped to attention, almost grinning.
"Yes, sir!"
Tylian smirked faintly, and even Teejo let out a quiet chuckle from the driver's seat. "I should be home at the usual time," Tylian added, folding his arms, "but if not, your mother and sister will be there. Along with the chefs. You'll be fine."
For a moment, silence filled the carriage, until curiosity tugged at him. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward, voice dropping lower. "So… how many demon beasts did you kill? And how fast did you climb the wall?" His words carried both sternness and reluctant curiosity.
Teejo's eyes flicked slightly, the corners of his mouth betraying the same interest.
Tagatha's grin stretched wide. "Two low D-ranks killed, and a mid D-rank injured before I pulled back. As for the wall? One minute—if you count the guards trying to stop me! Beat that!" Her voice carried pure pride.
"Well, I'll be…" Tylian's brows rose, genuine surprise slipping through his composure. "That's better than most of our soldiers in physical exams, and killing two demon beasts at thirteen.. sheesh.."
The carriage slowed as the scenery shifted from orderly streets to the vast estate grounds. Before them rose the Virell mansion, looming behind its wrought-iron gates. It wasn't a castle, though it was as close as a private residence could be. The outer walls were crafted from pale stone reinforced with crystalline veins that glimmered faintly in the daylight, etched with protective hexes that shimmered when one looked too closely. Towering spires jutted from the structure's corners, each capped with silver domes that reflected the sun like mirrors. Windows of enchanted glass stretched across the front façade, tinted faintly blue to both deflect heat and resist impact. A marble staircase, broad enough for twenty men to stand shoulder to shoulder, led up to a grand set of double doors engraved with the Virell crest. a circle of interlocked swords surrounded by a halo of runes. The gardens around the estate were immaculate, with hedges cut into sharp angles and fountains that channeled streams of water through glowing hex-pipes, creating the illusion of rivers flowing in the air.
Teejo pulled the reins, bringing the carriage to a smooth stop before the gates. He shook his head with a quiet laugh. "That's impressive, Tagatha… but let's keep it quiet. Don't want her trying to break her own record next week."
"True," Tylian muttered, giving his daughter a sideways glance. "It's still illegal, so keep that pride of yours contained. Be careful, Taggie."
Tagatha stepped down from the carriage, her boots landing softly on the polished stone path. To her relief, neither her mother nor her sister had come rushing to greet her. That meant the news of her punishment hadn't reached home yet. A small mercy. She didn't mind her father or Teejo calling her Taggie, they had earned that right. But anyone else? Anyone outside the family who dared call her that? She'd sooner end them than accept the insult. If she were to marry someday, into another royal house, perhaps, if her father allowed it, her partner would never be permitted such a childish name.
"I love you, Taggie," Tylian said, leaning back in his seat, his tone softening. "Don't head out late. And let your mother know she'll have to cook tonight, I'll be busy forging."
"Got it. I'll tell her," Tagatha said, turning back with a small smile. "See you later, Dad. See you, Teejo!"
"See ya, Tags," Teejo called, his smirk returning as he flicked the reins.
Tylian gave her a curt nod of farewell before the carriage rolled off down the path.
Despite everything, the report, the scolding, the punishment, Tagatha couldn't deny the truth. Today felt like the greatest day of her life.