“Can you help me up? We should probably head back to camp.”

I had finalized my thoughts on the next transformation for the Grand Channel and the Energy Gathering stage, but it felt like an idea too big to sit on for long.

“Yeah, alright. Come on,” Thea said, crouching down and guiding my arm over her shoulder. “Up we go.”

We started toward our campsite, the faint sounds of the forest filling the gaps in our tired breaths. My mind buzzed with questions, theories, and half-formed plans I needed to run by her.

“Thea?”

“No more Grandmaster now?” she said with a teasing grin.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s grown on me. What’s up?”

“You finished that book by now, right? Did it cover core formation?”

She nodded, her storm-gray eyes flickering with curiosity. “Yeah, I finished it. It covered the theory of forming a core—hardening your inner strength by stopping its flow and condensing it. It’s a lot more dangerous than it sounds, though.” Her face lit up slightly. “Wait, are you thinking we could etch patterns into the central core once we finish this stage?”

I shook my head, frowning slightly. “No, not yet. I think you were right earlier—we shouldn’t rush into core formation. But… what if we carved into the Grand Channel itself, just like the magic tools?”

Her eyes widened, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That’s… that’s brilliant. But how exactly do we carve into it?”

I hesitated, organizing my thoughts before speaking. “If someone fails core formation, and they stop the hardening process midway, does their energy re-liquefy?”

She froze mid-step, her brow furrowed. For a moment, she seemed troubled, but then—like clockwork—her expression shifted into the gleaming look of someone who’s just stumbled upon a golden puzzle piece.

“No… not exactly,” she said slowly. “The reason most people never attempt it—other than the fact that with a system, a small energy generator doesn’t offer that much benefit—is because if you fail, you lose everything. Every ounce of energy you used trying to form the core just… evaporates. Most people aiming to form one want the biggest core possible, so they funnel all their energy into it. Could you imagine spending a day’s—or even several weeks—on cultivation, only for all of that to vanish in seconds?”

I winced at the thought. Yeah, losing so much progress sounded like a nightmare scenario. But the seed of an idea had already taken root, and I couldn’t let it go.

“What if we just used a tiny bit of internal strength?” I said, my voice low and deliberate. “Just enough to harden a thin thread of energy—solidify it into something temporary. Like… like a carving needle.”

Thea stopped walking entirely, her hand tightening on my arm as she processed the thought.

“A needle,” she whispered, her eyes unfocused as if she were staring straight into the blueprint of an idea etched across the sky. “Not an entire core, not a complete transformation… just enough energy to create something stable for a few seconds. And if it fails, we lose almost nothing.”

“Exactly.”

She let out a breathless laugh, a sound caught somewhere between exhilaration and disbelief. “So, we carve spiraling patterns like the ones on magical tools to increase flow? Sure, it could help for devastating attacks, but if we carve that everywhere, we’d lose a significant amount of control over our own circulation.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” I agreed, grimacing at the thought of my energy rushing out of control like a broken dam.

She kept supporting me as we walked, our steps slow but steady. Above us, the stars stretched endlessly across the sky—a shimmering blanket of cosmic wonder. It was the kind of sight that made you feel both incredibly small and infinitely important at the same time.

A thought struck me, sharp and sudden. “What about other patterns?”

“Other patterns—wait, exactly!” Thea’s voice pitched upward with excitement, her storm-gray eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. “We could design them to increase flow between specific points—like our fists, or maybe our legs for bursts of speed—and at those points, um… we could make…”

She looked at me, eyebrows raised, eyes dancing with expectation. Clearly, she wanted me to finish the thought.

“Maybe something like foci. Small dimples or indentations in the flow—places where the energy could collect, even if only slightly.”

“Yes!” she shouted, her voice breaking into a giddy laugh. “Exactly! We could create small points like that, essentially allowing the energy to pool just enough for quick bursts. Not full reservoirs, but functional, concentrated hubs of energy.”

“Well,” I said, smirking despite the dull ache radiating through my ribs, “just like last time—nothing to do but try it, right?”

Thea beamed, her smile wide and unrestrained. “That’s right!”

For a moment, it looked like she might drop me entirely, start bouncing around, and squeal in excitement like a kid on their birthday. But she didn’t. Instead, she tightened her grip on my arm, her steps light and filled with an energy I couldn’t help but feel myself.

Thea and I trudged back to our little corner of the Tank camp, far enough from the snorers, sneeze-shouters, and general chaos to actually get some sleep. Our gear was still where it was before, hidden under Thea’s set up, tucked carefully away from curious eyes. I flopped onto my sleeping bag without ceremony, groaning as my ribs protested the sudden movement.

Thea set her pack down a little more gracefully, though her shoulders slumped from exhaustion. She glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “You look like… like you’ve been trampled.”

“Flattering,” I muttered, shifting to prop myself up on one elbow. “I think I’ve officially transcended pain and entered the realm of permanent discomfort.”

Thea smirked faintly as she lowered herself onto her sleeping bag with a sigh. Above us, the stars glittered across the night sky—sharp, cold, and scattered across the vast expanse like shards of glass. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The faint crackle of distant fires and the rustling of leaves filled the silence.

“You know,” Thea said softly, breaking the stillness. “We’re doing something crazy—carving our own path… literally.” She chuckled lightly into her hand, the sound almost shy before fading into a thoughtful pause. “No one’s ever been as obsessed with cultivation as I am. And even though you didn’t really have a choice… I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

Her words hung in the cool night air, and I let them linger as I stared up at the endless sky. “Me too. Back home—wherever that is now—everything was so… I don’t know, empty. Monotonous. Wake up, school, eat, sleep… repeat. Don’t get me wrong, there were tons of great things, I miss toilet paper. And speaking of which—you need a shower.”

I laughed, but Thea’s gasp of indignation cut me off as she grabbed one of her precious books from her tent and hurled it at me.

“Ow!” I yelped as it hit my shoulder and bounced onto the grass. “Violence! Abuse!”

But honestly, I just ended up laughing harder, clutching my sore ribs as I gasped between chuckles.

When I finally caught my breath, I continued, my voice quieter this time. “But really… with you and Elric, it’s the most alive I’ve felt in years. It’s only been a few days, but—it’s like I have a family. A real family.”

When I glanced over, Thea was already watching me. Her storm-gray eyes softened slightly, shadows of thought swimming in their depths. For a long moment, neither of us said anything. The firelight from distant campfires reflected faintly in her gaze, flickering like tiny stars caught in a storm cloud.

“Do you regret it, back at the arena?” she asked softly.

The image of the girl from the arena flashed through my mind—tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hands clutching that obsidian disk, the quiet shuffle of her feet as she walked away.

“No,” I said firmly. “But it’s going to make things harder for me, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” Thea’s voice was steady, but the weight behind her words made my chest feel tight. “I don’t know if it’s because I was raised in this place, but… it’s normal here. To take down your opponent, to not hesitate. But Peter—what you did, the choice you made—it made me think. Why are we doing this? Why are we trained to beat down people who have nothing against us until they can’t stand?”

Her voice trembled slightly, but she pressed on.

“We’re going to war. After three years in this place, we won’t have the… luxury of stopping. The enemy, the Northern Continent—they won’t show mercy. And yet… shouldn’t we hold on to something? Some kind of sympathy? We’re training to fight alongside people we’ve competed against for years. People we might one day have to rely on with our lives.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

She paused, her brows furrowing. “And what if… what if this point system doesn’t stop? Even in war, will we still be fighting against each other? For glory, for contribution… for something that doesn’t matter in the end?”

Her voice faded into the quiet of the night, carried away by the soft wind filtering through the trees.

For a while, there was nothing but the faint rustle of leaves. Her storm-gray eyes met mine again. There was something raw there—open and vulnerable in a way I had never seen Thea act.

I wanted to say something—to reassure her, to give her some kind of answer. But the words stuck in my throat, heavy and unmoving.

After a beat of our eyes locked, I sat up, wincing slightly as my ribs protested. “I’m starving.”

Thea rolled her eyes but reached for her bag. “I figured you would be. After I won my match, I bought these.” She pulled out two skewers of the familiar Carapace Hound meat, still faintly warm and glistening with juices.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the skewer she offered and biting into it. The smoky flavor hit instantly, and for a moment, everything else faded away. “How’d your match go?”

“It was quick,” she said, chewing thoughtfully. “Honestly, that transformation we went through—it’s something else. When I circulated my energy, the world slowed down. Just for a moment. But that axe-wielding brute? I had him in the palm of my hand.”

I paused, remembering that fleeting moment during our evolution when the falling leaves had seemed suspended mid-air. I hadn’t been able to replicate that since. “Knowing you, Thea, I bet you were the brute in that fight.”

he tossed a small piece of meat at me, which bounced harmlessly off my forehead. “You’re impossible.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, the skewers slowly emptying as the distant firelight flickered faintly across her face. It painted soft golden lines along her cheekbones and jaw, catching in the strands of her chestnut hair. The moment felt… peaceful. In a way I hadn’t realized I needed until now.

I checked my orb and frowned at the glowing numbers. 175. Five points lower than before. I guess my refusal to fight counted as a loss.

“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath, letting the orb flicker off in my palm.

Thea, noticing my expression, pulled out her own orb and held it up with a triumphant little smirk. The soft glow revealed her total: 185.

“Winning and feeding your sorry face,” she said, shaking the orb slightly for emphasis. “Honestly, Peter, I’m starting to think you’re dragging the team average down.”

I sighed dramatically, leaning back against my sleeping bag. “Hey, I saved a life today! That has to count for something, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied, her smirk widening. “It counted for negative five points, apparently.”

“How do you think Elric is doing?” she asked after a while, chewing through another cube of meat.

I paused, mid-bite. “Elric? Honestly… I think he’s tougher than he lets on. Scary, even. Maybe a little manipulative. Smart, though. And those two girls—Penny and Sam—they hover over him like guard dogs in love. He’ll be fine.”

Thea smirked. “Fan club perks.”

“Must be nice,” I said, dramatically placing a hand over my heart. “Meanwhile, I’m out here getting painted across coliseum arenas by knights.”

“Don’t forget being dragged out like a sack of vegetables,” she added so helpfully.

“Ah yes, my favorite activity—cosplaying as a corpse.”

“Cosplaying?”

“Nothing,” I said, waving a hand. “Another cultural difference. It means my favorite activity is pretending to be a corpse.”

“What?” she laughed—a soft, genuine sound that felt warmer than the firelight. For a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. We weren’t two teenagers in a brutal fantasy boot camp preparing for war. We were just two friends, sharing a joke after a long day, camping under a sky full of stars.

“Your birthday’s in a couple of days, right? Anything you want?”

“Want?” she repeated, tilting her head slightly. “You mean from my blessing?”

“Um—” I faltered. Do they not do birthday presents here? Perfect. Makes it easier to surprise her, then. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Some kind of warrior blessing, I think. Something powerful.”

“Figures,” I said dryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted, mock offense painting her features.

“Oh, nothing. Just that it’s the most ‘Thea’ answer you could’ve given.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a lightness to her expression that hadn’t been there earlier.

We bantered back and forth until the night wrapped around us like a heavy blanket. The distant hum of others arriving in camp faded into background noise, and above us, the stars shimmered in their endless vigil.

A warmth stirred in me—not from the fire, not from the food, but something softer, quieter.

Thank you. Whatever brought me here—thank you for letting me meet her first.

Once again, as usual, the fragile peace was shattered by the blare of the violent morning horn.

The day kicked off in the familiar routine—lining up in formation, jogging to the woods, and starting survival class. Today felt different, though. Less instruction, more prove you were paying attention. Basically, it was quiz day.

We were tasked with identifying poisonous plants from their safer, edible counterparts. The subtle differences—leaf shape, texture, even smell—felt like tiny puzzles, and honestly, I think I did pretty well. If I were stranded in the woods right now, I’d have about a seventy percent chance of not accidentally turning myself into a human biohazard.

Thea, naturally, did better. She would have an impressive eighty percent chance of survival. She seemed to approach every leaf and berry with the focus of someone studying for the final exam of her life.

Starting a fire, while still challenging, had also become easier with our improved strength and repeated practice. Turns out, when your hands are faster and your grip is steadier, rubbing two sticks together becomes slightly less miserable.

“You two are making steady progress,” our hulking commander said, his deep voice carrying easily through the forest air. “As am I.”

He looked at us with an expression that always caught me off guard—a mix of scholarly curiosity and quiet respect. It was strange how such an imposing figure could carry himself like a thoughtful professor.

“When do you plan to tell me the rest?” he asked, his brow raising slightly. “I’ll be finished with the Spiritual Reservoir Formation very soon.” He paused, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can pay quite handsomely. You were right—I haven’t been able to find anything like this in my library, nor have I seen it mentioned in any other resource.”

Of course he had a library. Somehow, that didn’t surprise me at all.

“We have an idea of our next step, sir,” I said carefully, exchanging a glance with Thea. “But we need to test it first. As soon as we confirm our theory, we’ll share it… for a fee.”

The commander let out a rumbling chuckle, his broad shoulders shaking slightly. “Good. I look forward to it. Go on, then—I’ll let you two head out early. Soon, we’ll be receiving new recruits, and you won’t be able to camp here anymore.”

That bit of news caught me off guard. “What are we meant to do then, sir?”

“At that time, I’ll show you personally. But it will be a few days yet. Don’t worry—I won’t let you starve just yet. You two have far too much to offer.”

His tone was light, but there was a sharpness beneath it, a weight to his words.

“Now, head out,” he continued. “Some quiet in a training room will help you progress more. I expect great news tomorrow.”

With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away, his heavy boots crunching over the forest floor. Whether he was off to cultivate or inspect more recruits, I wasn’t sure.

“Well,” I said, adjusting my pack over my shoulder, “let’s go then. He said we could.”

Thea nodded, her expression thoughtful as we started walking back toward camp. “Do you think Elric will be there already?”

“Probably,” I said, glancing at the distant silhouette of the coliseum. “It feels like the healer class has a completely different schedule from us. They always seem to be there before we arrive. Last time, Elric was already waiting for us.”

“Do you think the other classes are the same way?” Thea asked, her storm-gray eyes flickering with curiosity.

“No clue,” I admitted with a shrug. “Guess we’ll find out eventually.”

“Good point. Come on, let’s hurry up.”

And then Thea did something that made me seriously question our friendship. She ran. No, sprinted. And judging by how she blurred into motion, I was pretty sure she was funneling every ounce of her internal strength into her legs.

Roughly an excruciating several hours later—although, if you asked Thea, she would firmly deny it was that long, quarter of an hour she says—we arrived at the coliseum.

As expected, there was Elric. And, as expected, he was surrounded by admirers. Two new girls flanked him, both walking with an air of practiced nonchalance while shooting daggers at anyone who so much as glanced his way.

“God, are they in shifts or something?” I muttered under my breath.

“Maybe they all wanted a turn,” Thea said, smirking.

“Ugh.” Nope. Not jealous. Totally not jealous.

“Elric!” I called out, waving an arm.

He turned toward us, his face lighting up with a smile so bright I was momentarily worried about the sun losing its job. The two new girls accompanying him went beet red. One actually wobbled on her feet like she might faint.

Yep. Pop star. Definitely a pop star if he lived in my world.

Wait… Can Elric sing? That’s a million-dollar question. Could we hold concerts for points? Sell tickets? Make a fortune?

“Thea?” I whispered just before we reached Elric. “Do you have concerts here? Musical performances people pay to see?”

“Yeah…? What, you wanna go to one? It’ll be tough here in training.”

“Awesome.”

“What?” She gave me a look that was equal parts confusion and suspicion.

But before I could explain my absolutely brilliant business venture, Elric and his entourage met us halfway.

“So, we doing the usual today?” Elric asked, his voice pleasant, his smile effortlessly charming. But then his aquamarine gaze flicked to me, and something else crept into his expression—a glint sharp enough to cut glass.

“Also, Peter,” he said, his voice taking on a sweetness that could only be described as demonic, “we still need to finish your treatment.”

I swallowed hard.

Yep. Definitely a demon in disguise.