Her body was, without exaggeration, extremely healthy.
The only abnormality lay in one place.
Soren's gaze paused on the three-dimensional projection of her brain. At its center was the beast nucleus.
The beast nucleus was the source of a beastman's power, the core that connected physical strength, perception, and instinct. Regardless of race or strength, its size was usually within a fixed range. Differences in power came from quality, resonance, and control—not volume.
Yet the little leopard's beast nucleus was visibly larger than normal.
It exceeded the standard range by an unmistakable amount.
Soren's eyes darkened as he studied the data. A beast nucleus of this size meant immense potential—but also instability. Too much power concentrated in such a small space inevitably placed pressure on the surrounding neural system.
Behind him, the doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, stepping back a little. "Sir, you've seen it," he said frankly. "The little leopard's beast nucleus is far beyond the normal size. This abnormality directly affects the brain."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "The long-term pressure causes damage similar to Hysteria. That's why she's unable to maintain her human form and remains in her beast form for extended periods."
The little leopard, who had been resting quietly in Soren's arms, suddenly lifted her head. Her ears stood straight up, and her crimson pupils locked onto the doctor with sharp focus.
The doctor felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He coughed lightly, suddenly very aware of that gaze. "B-But the treatment itself isn't particularly complicated," he quickly added.
The little leopard's ears twitched.
Soren finally lifted his eyes from the display. "Not difficult?" His voice was calm, but there was a faint pressure beneath it.
The doctor straightened instinctively. "Yes, sir. The beast nucleus is the source of power. The issue isn't damage—it's overload. As long as the leopard learns to properly use and regulate her strength, and with the assistance of a suitable energy stone to guide and stabilize that power, there is a chance for recovery."
"Chance?" Soren repeated, his tone unchanged.
The doctor hesitated. "Sir… I must be honest. I've never encountered a case like this. This is largely theoretical. We don't know how her body will respond in the long term."
Soren's hand rested firmly on the leopard's head, his palm pressing lightly into her warm fur. His thumb brushed over the space between her ears in a slow, absent-minded motion, but his eyes were sharp and thoughtful. An idea had already taken shape in his mind.
"However, sir," the doctor said hesitantly, adjusting the data display in his hand, "there is a small problem. After comprehensive testing, the little leopard's power has been identified as… a Carver's Perception."
Soren showed no surprise. He nodded once, as if the answer merely confirmed something he had already suspected. "I'll arrange for her to go to the Imperial Artificers Academy."
Perception was a special power—one that belonged to carvers alone. Unlike combat abilities, it wasn't something that could be easily quantified or trained through brute force.
Even Soren, who stood at the peak of the empire's military strength, knew very little about it beyond its surface definition. The best, and perhaps only, place where such power could be systematically studied and refined was the largest and most authoritative carver institution in the empire: the Imperial Artificers Academy in the capital.
The little leopard's level was already far beyond ordinary standards. What she lacked wasn't talent—it was stability and self-control.
"…Sir, what did you say?" The doctor froze, genuinely unsure if he had heard correctly.
He stared at Soren, then down at the little leopard in his arms.
'Send her… to school?' The doctor's expression grew increasingly strange as the realization dawned on him.
The little leopard was soft, small, and undeniably cute. She couldn't speak, communicated only through sounds and gestures, and was currently blinking up at them with clear, curious eyes. Sending her to the Imperial Artificers Academy—where the professors were famous for their arrogance, strictness, and sky-high standards—was simply unheard of.
Would those professors, who barely tolerated ordinary students, agree to teach a beast who couldn't even speak?
Would they take her seriously?
The doctor opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to organize his thoughts. "Sir… the academy's professors…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "They are not known for their patience. And the students there—"
"I know," Soren interrupted flatly.
He lowered his gaze to the little leopard, whose tail had begun to sway lazily, completely unaware of the shock she was causing. His hand pressed gently against her head again, steady and reassuring.
"They'll teach her," he said calmly.
It wasn't a guess. It was a statement.
"If they refuse," Soren continued, his tone unchanging, "I'll make sure they reconsider."
The doctor fell silent.
He suddenly remembered all the rumors surrounding the Imperial Artificers Academy's recent influx of funding, equipment upgrades, and policy shifts over the past few years. At the time, everyone assumed it was a coincidence or a political maneuver.
Now, standing here, he felt a chill run down his spine.
The little leopard tilted her head, sensing the strange atmosphere. She lifted one paw and pressed it against Soren's chest, as if to ask what they were talking about.
Soren looked down at her, the sternness in his eyes softening just a fraction. "You'll learn there," he said quietly, as if speaking directly to her. "Learn to control yourself. Learn to use your power."
The leopard blinked, then let out a small sound. "Nyaa?"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The aircraft hummed steadily beneath my paws, the faint vibration traveling through the table and into my bones. Outside the wide viewing window, the starfield stretched endlessly, threads of light pulled thin by high-speed travel. I barely spared it a glance. Right now, the plate in front of me was far more important.
I lowered my head and took another bite, chewing slowly while my ears twitched at the voices around me.
"…set course for the Imperial Capital," Soren was saying to the guard. "Notify the academy in advance. I don't want unnecessary procedures when we arrive."
"Yes, sir."
I didn't hear what else was said. Soren had already placed the plate closer to me, nudging it just enough to remind me to keep eating. Clearly, in his priorities, my meal ranked higher than military logistics.
After a short while, when I was no longer eating with the desperation of a starving beast but at a more dignified pace, Soren finally spoke again.
"I've obtained a quota for you at the Imperial Artificers Academy," he said, his gaze resting on me. "You're exempt from the entrance exam and can directly enter the Apprentice class."
My chewing slowed.
The Imperial Artificers Academy.
From what I heard, the academy was divided into five class levels—Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Master, and Grand Master. Only after completing all five could one obtain a carver's official qualification certificate, recognized throughout the empire. It was the highest authority in this world when it came to carving, perception, and artifact creation.
In Soren's eyes, I knew very well that my level was more than enough to be thrown straight into the Grand Master class and still shock everyone there. Unfortunately, reality didn't work that way. I had missed the entrance exam, and even with Soren's influence as the guild leader of the Quantum Core Guild, the best he could secure was an exemption and direct entry into the Apprentice class.
I swallowed my food and mentally sighed.
'Do I really need to go to school again?'
I had been homeschooled before. Not only that—I had the best teachers money and connections could buy. And above all, I had my grandfather. He was the one who taught me how to sculpt, how to listen to stone, how to feel the flow beneath the surface instead of forcing it open. Everything important, everything essential, I had already learned.
All this…
'Just because of one damn stupid stone.'
My eyes slid to the transparent energy stone sitting quietly on the table. It looked innocent enough, cool and clear, catching the light like a drop of frozen water.
I glared at it.
As if sensing my hostility, it remained stubbornly silent.
In the end, there was nothing I could do. I let out a long, quiet sigh and looked up at Soren. Stretching out my paws, I gently patted his arm, my eyes doing my best to convey gratitude.
'Thank you. I know you're doing this for me.'
And, if I was being honest with myself…
'This might actually be a good thing.'
Learning more about this world, understanding how "Carver's Perception" was classified as a power here, how people trained and defined it, those were things I couldn't gain just by experimenting alone. Knowledge was never a burden. Only ignorance was.
Soren seemed satisfied with my reaction. "Good."
Then, as if this were merely the next item on a checklist, he added, "The next thing I have to do is teach you to speak first."
I froze mid-bite.
My ears flicked sharply.
'…Teach me to speak?'