Seth stood in front of a wooden door with a small silver plaque reading 'Professor Reat.' After Devus had gotten out of the tower and heard the whole story regarding Marine, the Guardian had suggested talking to the professor to explain the situation, hoping he would help.

  At first, Seth had despised the idea, but after hours of contemplation in their dorm room he… found himself admitting there were no better options. He didn’t want to deliberately throw his matches in the Spring Tournament—especially the ones he could actually win—and risk getting expelled with all the consequences that it would have.

  But after talking with Jenna, Elena, and her brother, he understood just how bad things could get if he upset Marine. He already had one noble who hated his guts and had put an unofficial bounty on his head—he couldn’t afford to make another enemy like that.

  Seth inhaled deeply and knocked on the door. A muffled groan came first, followed by the of footsteps. Seconds later the door swung open and Professor Reat appeared in its frame, wearing a baggy white shirt and brown pants instead of his usual teacher's uniform.

  "What do you want?" the man asked with a sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "It's eight-thirty at night."

  "It's about Marine, professor, " Seth said. "She's asking me to lose during the Spring Tournament on purpose so she can win your bet. And from what I’ve been told, she’s not exactly someone you say no to without… well, facing consequences."

  The professor yawned. "And that’s my problem because…?"

  "You don't mind losing?" Seth asked, caught off by the man's indifference.

  "I mean, winning would be nice," the professor answered, leaning against the doorframe, "but I won’t punish the granddaughter of Kastal’s marshal for blackmailing a commoner. And let’s be honest. If you came here, you already know that throwing a match on purpose could get you expelled."

  Seth clenched his jaws and quickly wracked his brain to find a solution. Lucius had likely already been reprimanded by his father for the incident at Arthuri, meaning he might be more careful for a while.

  But Marine? She was a member of House Vancaws, one of the Twenty Great Houses, and the granddaughter of Kastal's marshal. Someone with that kind of backing wouldn't need to care about consequences the way Lucius did.

  Hunting would be impossible if Marine's lackeys ambushed him the moment he left the academy’s grounds. Also, if any of the people they sent were Iron, Seth wouldn’t stand a chance. At least not until Nightmare reached that Tier himself.

  "Then… what if I paid for your protection?" he asked. "For… two or three months?"

  A confused look appeared on the professor's face. "Why two or three months?"

  "Because by then I should be able to defend myself against Irons," Seth answered, trying to be vague.

  Professor Reat rubbed his face, then let out a deep sigh. "You really have no clue how tough it is to go up a Tier. Your manipulation and sensing aren’t even to the breakthrough’s requirements for Iron."

  A knot of unease settled in Seth’s stomach as he bit his lower lip. Without help, his life could quickly become a nightmare with Lucius Marine on his back.

  Sure, he could leave the academy and progress in Ranks on his own with Nightmare, but the first week had already shown him how ignorant he was. Aether affinity, manipulation, sensing, spell-carvings—learning about any of that outside of here would be nearly impossible. He couldn’t just leave. Not now. He needed the professor's protection.

  "I, uh, can I come in?" Seth asked, glancing around to be sure that no one was nearby. "I have something… personal to tell you."

  Professor Reat raised an eyebrow. "Sure," he replied, turning around and waving Seth to follow. "But one comment on the mess and I'll cut out your tongue."

  The large room was cluttered with books, scrolls, and loose parchments. They were scattered everywhere in heaps, making it a challenge to move around without tripping. The shelves lining the walls were packed with tomes and mysterious objects: glass vials filled with glowing liquids, metallic spheres covered in runes, strange crystals, and more.

  A large painting on the far wall caught Seth's eye. It depicted a weird-looking old man with two horns half-hidden by a hood, and a wide, wicked grin. The humanoid creature’s piercing gaze seemed to bore straight into Seth, sending a shiver down his spine. Its gold frame was riddled with black runes, hinting that it was no ordinary portrait.

  "Who’s that, professor?" Seth asked.

  Professor Reat stopped making piles of books and scrolls on his desk and glanced up. "That’s Dolomiris, the God of Trickery. One of the strongest Wielders in history."

  "The one who faked his own death a thousand times," Seth replied immediately, recalling one of his mother’s old tales. She had always been fascinated by gods and goddesses for some reason—but despite her best efforts, she hadn't succeeded in passing on that obsession to him. "At least a dozen of those times were just so he could sleep all week long."

  "One of the most cunning gods," Professor Reat added before leaning on his cluttered desk. "So, what did you want to say?"

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  Seth locked gaze with the man. "I have a contracted beast."

  Professor Reat raised a skeptical eyebrow, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile crept on his lips. "Oh, really?" he said, tracing his jawline with a finger with a long pause. His expression then instantly hardened. "Why are you taking me for a fool?"

  Seth briefly closed his eyes and sighed. "Try not to make a mess, Nightmare."

  Before Professor Reat could say anything, the direwolf let out a shout of elation from inside the teardrop, then sprung out of the domain, materializing in the middle of the room. Nightmare’s sudden appearance left the professor speechless, his mouth hanging open as the direwolf began sniffing around, nosing through the scattered piles of books and scrolls.

  The moment Seth moved Nightmare back into the necklace a few seconds later, a broad smile spread across Professor Reat’s face. "That explains a lot of things," he said before looking at Seth's neck. "How did you get the beast-holder and the contract?"

  "The contract was a gift from a friend of my father," Seth lied, having already prepared for those questions since he was still not sure why Link and its bonus attributes would put a target on his back. "And I bought the beast-holder from a Wandering Merchant in Arthuri before coming to the academy."

  Professor Reat nodded, rubbing his hands. "Have you told anyone else about this?"

  Seth shook his head. "No, why?"

  "Good," the professor mumbled. "Keep it that way for now. I need to talk to the director to see if the Kastal’s Rising Stars Tournament has any rules regarding contracted beasts."

  "Kastal’s Rising Stars Tournament?" Seth repeated, confused.

  "It's a competition held in Oskon between the three great academies every year," the professor answered, eyes gleaming. "If they allow contracted beasts, we could win some prizes."

  Seth frowned. "?"

  "Every student who competes in that tournament is hand-picked by one of the sixteen professors appointed by the academies' directors," Professor Reat explained. "To incentivize them to pick the best candidates, they also give out prizes to them." A wide grin then appeared on the man's face. "I'm one of those sixteen professors, and I want you to be my candidate."

  After swinging by his room to grab his bow, some arrows, and his Lighter, Seth headed out of the academy. He had no classes the next day—one of the few perks of being a Primalist. The whole 'academy adapting to Primalists' thing didn’t amount to much, really. Mostly, it just meant cramming all his classes into Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday so he’d have a four-day weekend to hunt. Friday was already free for all commoners, so it wasn’t life-changing… but still, better than nothing.

  As he walked on the cobblestone street, he mulled over his discussion with Professor Reat. The man was convinced that, with the direwolf, Seth could easily reach the top four of the national tournament and rake in great rewards for both of them. Yet, Seth had realized he wasn’t fond of the idea.

  Fighting in front of the Kastal’s strongest Wielders would attract a lot of attention—and it would increase the chances of someone noticing that he was stronger and faster than he should have been with his attributes. As a result, Link could be exposed. He needed to be impressive enough to be praised and protected by people stronger than him, but not so much that it made them suspicious or felt threatened by him.

  '' Seth asked Nightmare.

  '' the direwolf answered from within the teardrop. ''

  '' Seth agreed.

  '' Nightmare continued, ''

  ''' ' Seth retorted, looking at the sun disappearing behind Trogan’s walls. ''

  '' the direwolf huffed. ''

  Seth's gaze drifted down to the pocket watch in his hand.

  On top of making it clear to the other professors that Seth would be his candidate, Professor Reat also lent him the artifact for the entire semester as an additional way to protect him without needing to stay by his side at all times.

  The main idea was to use it as he left the city so no one could follow him. According to the man, no Coppers should be able to track him once he activated it. As for the Iron students, it would depend on their talent in aether sensing—only the top ten percent should have the skill to do so.

  '' Seth said as he neared the west gate. ''

  The direwolf scoffed. ''

  Through their bond, Seth showed Nightmare an image of the three Wielders with Lucius the day Renwal had gotten his arms shattered. ''

  From Professor Albert’s lecture, Seth had learned that subclasses—like Paladin for Guardians—were typically acquired either at the end of the Iron Tier or early in the Silver Tier, depending on specific requirements for attributes, spells, and achievements. The professor had described the process as a strange awakening: the Well would ignite on its own, seemingly at random, and undergo a permanent transformation.

  Over the years, many requirement thresholds had been discovered. For instance, Warriors needed at least a hundred-thirty Strength and a hundred Toughness to become a Barbarian, or ninety Arcane Power and a High-Iron aether affinity with any element to become a Spellblade. But despite the known thresholds, there was still an elusive, unknown trigger after reaching the stats that Scholars still didn't completely understand—and it made acquiring a subclass a frustrating process.

  '' the direwolf answered after a moment of hesitation.

  Seth shrugged. ''

  '' Nightmare muttered, standing up within the necklace's dimension and stretching his legs.

  Reaching the gates, Seth nodded at the two posted guards and walked outside the city’s walls. A dozen yards later, he then glanced over his shoulder, confirmed no one was following him, and activated the professor's artifact.

  Blue aether rushed out of the pocket watch, and Seth's body began to blur, becoming invisible to the naked eye in less than a second. A hungry smile crept on his face.

  ''

  January 15, 2026 (8h30PM ET)

  ----

  Thanks so much for reading the story!

  Next Monday will be Book 1's Interlude (a bit short sorry, about 1500 words) with the same POV as the Prologue, then there will be a small timeskip at the beginning of Wednesday's chapter!

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