The second week passed much like the first—three classes a day, followed by self-practice in the evenings. The only change was that Monsterology had been replaced with History.
History Class: The Gates
This week's topic focused on the mysterious phenomena known as Gates—their colors, categories, and how they appeared in the world.
Our instructor, Professor Elwin, wrote seven circles on the board, each shaded a different hue.
"Gates," he began, "are dimensional spiral of exotic energy that connect our world to unstable planes. They come in various colours of orange, yellow, and blue, representing minor distortions. But when you see a rupture, a tear in space, you run"
A murmur spread through the class.
"The green, red and black ones," he continued, "are Ruptures—violent anomalies that spawn corrupted lifeforms as well as Void-borns. And then…" He paused, chalk tapping against the final circle, "we have the White Gates—the rarest of all."
I leaned forward.
"When one enters a White Gate," he said, "a Return Stone is granted automatically—allowing the user to exit safely at any time. The monsters inside do not possess cores, unlike those from other Gates. Their purpose is… different."
He drew another diagram—this time of a black stone.
"When a monster is slain inside a regular Gate, its body begins to disintegrate, leaving behind what we call a Black Heart. These are infused with miasma. But when removed from the Gate, they gradually purify, turning transparent. Fully purified cores become Mana Crystals—a vital resource in artifact forging."
A student raised her hand. "Professor, is purification faster inside a White Gate?"
"Good question. No," he replied. "But placing Black Hearts in mana-rich environments does accelerate purification. Timing also matters—extracting the core immediately upon death before the body fully disintegrates retains more mana."
I noted that down carefully. It aligned with what I'd read in the library—that mana density could affect purification rate.
Basic Mana Training: Elemental Casting
This week marked the start of Basic Elemental Casting. Each student was introduced to the foundational spell for their affinity.
For Light Affinity, the beginner's spell was Illumination.
Professor Mira instructed us, "Remember, Arcadia does not enforce standard spellforms. Let your mana shape the light naturally."
She recited the incantation slowly:
> "Darkness veils the path ahead, and secrets lie unseen.
By my will, let radiance awaken.
Illuminate the shrouded veil, and reveal what must be seen."
When my turn came, I raised my hand, focusing mana at my palm. Warm, pale light pulsed outward—then stabilized into an orb roughly four centimeters across, floating beside me like a miniature sun.
Most students' orbs hovered stationary, anchored to their bodies. Mine drifted freely, gliding wherever I willed it, like a searchlight cutting through darkness.
I couldn't help but smile. "Looks like mine prefers to wander," I said.
Mira chuckled. "A free-moving construct? That's impressive. Only a handful manage that on their first day."
Over the next few days, I practiced until I could summon several orbs simultaneously—and even cast them without chanting. I could feel the spell edging toward becoming a permanent skill.
Combat Training: Weapon Mastery and Secondary Skills
Since the Simulation Room was still reserved for the second-years, first-years like us were asked to choose a secondary weapon to train with until weekend access opened.
James picked dual daggers, Natasha went for a lance, and I decided to refine my dagger work alongside them.
That was when I noticed something strange—among the lance users stood a girl who looked identical to Natasha.
At first, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. But then I realized: the girl I'd trained with in the gym a few weeks back must have been Nadia Lane, Natasha's older sister.
The resemblance was uncanny, though Nadia carried herself with sharper confidence—and noticeably more defined muscle tone. The kind that only comes from years of experience.
Daggers and Archery Practice
Dagger class was fast-paced and brutal. The instructor moved like a blur, demonstrating techniques one after another:
Backstab – striking from behind while minimizing presence.
Quick Draw – drawing and slashing in a single motion.
Double Stab – twin thrusts aimed at weak points.
Lacerate, and several others.
I could only perform Backstab and Quick Draw properly. James, on the other hand, picked up nearly all of them. Watching him move, I realized something—his control wasn't just skill-based. It was instinctual.
"You don't have a Dagger Art, do you?" I asked after sparring.
He shook his head. "Not yet. Never found one that fit."
"Check the library," I said. "There might be a manual suited for your style."
He grinned. "I'll take your word for it."
The following day, the three of us skipped formal combat class to train independently. I helped Natasha and James stabilize their Mana Arrows.
"You're forcing the mana," I explained, demonstrating by drawing my own bow. "It's not about pouring power—it's about shaping. Layer it gently until the arrow forms naturally."
They followed my lead. The first few attempts fizzled, but soon, their arrows began to stabilize—solid, sleek, and steady.
James exhaled. "Finally. I was starting to think this was impossible."
Natasha laughed softly. "You just needed a good teacher."
I rolled my eyes. "Then I'll expect an A+ review later."
By the end of our two-hour session, both of them had achieved stable constructs. Their improvement was remarkable.
Afterward, James switched roles, guiding me through dagger drills. "Keep your elbows close," he said, adjusting my stance. "Your reach is fine, but you're overextending. You'll lose balance mid-spin."
His feedback was sharp, practical—almost instructor-level.
Outside the Field
Throughout the week, I also made my usual rounds to the library. On Monday and Friday, I ran into Lina again.
"How are classes?" she asked, glancing up from a stack of reports.
"Busy," I replied. "But I finally got Illumination down in my first try."
She smiled, clearly impressed. "Already? That's faster than most second-years, it took time for most of use to cast elemental spells."
I chuckled. "Guess I'm motivated."
When I asked about her research, she mentioned that her team had completed their assessment on Wednesday. "It went well. We're meet our black out quota and the purification is ongoing."
She always sounded so calm, yet passionate about her work—it made me wonder if I'd ever find something like that myself.
Later in the week, I bumped into Miles and Douglas near the cafeteria.
Miles looked like he was practically vibrating with energy. "Did you hear? Alchemy Practice starts next week!"
Douglas sighed. "You sound too excited. It's just another lecture."
"It's alchemy, man!" Miles said, throwing his arms wide. "We'll get to make potions, maybe even Manalyte used in powering Magitech!"
Douglas folded his arms. "I'll be impressed when you stop setting things on fire by accident."
I laughed. "Sounds like you two haven't changed."
Miles grinned. "You joining us for Alchemy, Will?"
"Definitely. Can't let you blow up the lab without me."
By the week's end, my routine had solidified—study, train, repeat. But something about it felt good. Grounding. Like I was finally finding rhythm in this new life.
And maybe… a reason to keep moving forward.