The new timetable had arrived on our terminals the night before:
8–10 a.m. Monsterology
10–12 p.m. Basic Magic Casting
12–2 p.m. Combat Training
I skimmed it again while toweling off from my bath. A busy day ahead. Breakfast at the dining hall set me back twenty points—a little steep—but I decided to treat myself. Lunch could wait.
Monsterology
Our lecturer began with the basics:
Corrupted Goblins.
We covered their ranks—Scout, Champion, Hero, Chieftain, and Shaman—and their most common behaviors in the wild. It was more an overview than anything else, but still useful. The details about Chieftain leadership dynamics caught my attention; apparently, their rise wasn't just strength-based but tied to ritual practices steep and intelligence.
I scribbled a few notes, already imagining what a Chieftain fight might feel like.
Basic Magic Casting
This session was livelier. The instructor introduced us to enchantment spells—temporary buffs used to push our physical limits:
Reinforce – bolsters constitution.
Envigor – boosts stamina and agility.
Strengthen – increases strength.
We practiced the casting forms and mana control for each. The theory was simple enough; execution was another matter. By the time class ended, half the room looked like they'd run a marathon just from trying to stabilize Envigor.
Combat Training
Here's where things got interesting.
Since we had unlocked Basic Weapon Proficiency, we were eligible to begin learning Combat Arts. I already had a dagger art, so I chose to expand into the bow.
Our instructor explained that bows had no fixed set of Combat Arts. Instead, we'd be introduced to techniques and encouraged to develop our own style over time. Only three of us in the class specialized in bows: myself, a green-haired boy about my height, and the silver-haired girl I'd seen before.
The techniques we were introduced to were:
Charged Bolt – infusing mana into the arrowhead to boost impact.
Mana Arrow – a conjured, invisible arrow designed for incorporeal targets.
Arrow Redirection – altering trajectory mid-flight with mana control.
Homing Shot – marking a target with a mana imprint to guide arrows toward them for a short window.
By the end of the session, all three of us had nailed Charged Bolt. My classmates were still struggling with Mana Arrow, but I managed to stabilize both Mana Arrow and Arrow Redirection. The thrill of bending an arrow mid-air was something else.
After practice, the three of us gathered near the rack to put away our training bows.
"I'm James Volg," the green-haired boy said, his grin wide and easy. "You handled that Mana Arrow like you've been at it for weeks."
"William Laurel," I replied. "And no—it was my first attempt. Just had a good read on the flow, I guess."
The silver-haired girl adjusted her gloves before speaking, her tone calm and precise. "Natasha Lane." Her voice matched her demeanor—measured, but not unfriendly.
James tapped his terminal. "We should trade IDs. No way I'm letting you two get ahead of me outside class."
Natasha gave a soft shrug but agreed. "It would make practice more efficient."
We connected our terminals. It felt like the start of something useful—maybe even important.
We headed to the dining hall together, trays in hand. The room buzzed with chatter, but our little table quickly drowned out the rest.
Natasha was the first to break the silence. "William, how did you know about the Mire Seraphs?"
I blinked. "Why?"
"They were only reported in the news the day before the exams. One of the written questions was about Voidborn. You listed Mire Seraphs, didn't you?"
Her sharp gaze made it less a question and more an accusation.
I chuckled. "I debated it. Technically, they weren't officially listed at the time. But the exposé on Darwin Walker's death named them directly, so I figured it was worth including."
"That's bold," James said, leaning in with interest. "If you'd been wrong, they might've docked points."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But I trusted the source."
Natasha's expression softened, almost reluctantly. "That answer put you into the top ranks. My sister—Nadia Lane—took first with 99.5. You weren't far behind."
So that was the connection. Nadia Lane: the name that had been circling since the rankings were posted. Natasha's sister.
"And you?" I asked.
"Ninth overall. Ninety-five. Top ten in physical and overall."
"Physical too, huh? Impressive."
James laughed and raised a hand. "Don't forget me. Top ten physical—perfect score. Written held me back, though."
It explained their confidence. Both had talent to spare.
By the time we finished eating, the three of us had fallen into easy rhythm. Different personalities, sure—James with his casual boldness, Natasha with her precision—but we shared the same drive.
After lunch, we split up. I made for the library—not for shelving duty, but to continue The Veiled Stride.
The technique was fascinating. It revolved around misdirection, diverting attention while concealing presence. With careful movement and mana control, one could slip from sight—not literally invisible, but close enough in practice. Presence suppression and silent movement were at its core.
I studied until my eyes grew heavy, then decided to check the assistant lounge. Maybe Lina had left work undone.
She hadn't. The books were already sorted, the space immaculate. A faint trace of sandalwood lingered, though she was gone. I returned the few strays still lying around and left.
Back in my room, I set The Veiled Stride on my desk and collapsed into bed.
Tomorrow would be another step forward.