Charles nursed his drink, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He’d been outside, searching for Prise and One-Eye when he’d been forced to come back in by some of his fellow students. His subordinates had informed him that he’d been out for nearly 10 hours straight and they demanded that he return to the town. Charles hesitantly accepted, but only after getting someone else to take over his role in searching for the lost members of the team. It’d been… what, 2 days since they’d fled?

He still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of One-Eye. The guy had murdered Idia in cold blood, but he’d shown real bravery in what he’d done earlier. Protecting the Otherworlders and even drawing the Snow King away like that? Charles was begrudgingly impressed.

A cold draft came in from outside and he drew his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He took another sip of his drink and tried his best to ignore the urge to run back outside.

That was when the door slammed open. He stood to his feet, Zenith appearing in his hands, its familiar presence a comfort to him.

The figures stepped forward, revealing Prise supporting One-Eye.

Charles’s jaw dropped. He ran over and grabbed One-Eye, laying him gently on the floor.

The two of them were in awful condition. Prise had dark eyebags the size of saucepans, while One-Eye was completely unconscious. Even now, he still had bruises that hadn’t been healed.

“Did you guys make it back here by walking?” Charles said.

Prise looked up and gave him a stare. “What do you think? We flew here?”

Charles stepped away, then dashed for the door.

“Medic!” he said. “Medic, get over here!”

One of the guys ran through the snow. “What is it—“

The guy caught sight of One-Eye and his jaw dropped. “He’s still alive?!”

“Come on, check him over, now,” Charles said. “Check them both over, make sure they aren’t in danger.”

Charles watched as the medic applied a few diagnostic spells. When it came to Prise, the medic frowned but didn’t make a fuss over it. After he did the same to One-Eye, he sucked in a breath and winced.

“What?” Charles said. “What is it?”

The medic bit his bottom lip. “The woman needs some rest. She’s holding it together, but she’s worn out.”

“What about One-Eye?”

The medic paused.

“It’s not good,” he said. “He’ll pull through, but his mana core was damaged from whatever happened. Not only that, but there seems to be some kind of… connection? Like that of a Spirit Weapon—not sure what that is, since he doesn’t have a Spirit Weapon.”

Charles’s mouth went dry. Like a Spirit Weapon?

The medic continued and shook his head, “Not only that, but his physical condition is terrible. He’s gone through an immense amount of stress on his body. I suspect that all those late nights we saw were taking up more of a toll than he was willing to admit. Now that something serious has come along, he’s too weakened to recover quickly. This’ll be a delicate process.”

Charles sucked in a breath and nodded. “Get whatever you need to bring him back to full health.”

The medic nodded. “Understood. I’ll go fetch my supplies.”

As the medic left, Charles watched One-Eye closely. Suffice to say, he was more than a little surprised over the implication of Spirit Weapons. Was One-Eye an Otherworlder? That… might explain a lot. In particular, why he chose to use no weapon. They might recognize a Spirit Weapon, and that would be bad for someone trying to keep away from the crown.

There was an image flickering in the back of his mind. One-Eye seemed so familiar sometimes, and his subconscious was screaming at him that he was missing something.

Perhaps he’d seen One-Eye before? Perhaps that Spirit Weapon he might have… could it be a needle?

----------------------------------------

Ezra slowly woke up, voices around his bedside.

“Shouldn’t he have awoken by now?”

“He should’ve, but he hasn’t. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

Ezra lifted his hand to his head and groaned. “Can you all shut the hell up?”

He opened his eyes. To the left, Charles was staring at him in abject shock. To the right, there was some boy he didn’t know.

“What are you all jabbering about?” Ezra muttered. “And I have a killer headache, can someone do something about that?”

The medic nodded and muttered a skill name under his breath. A moment later, some of the pain in his head disappeared.

“Thanks,” Ezra said. “Alright, give me a minute and I’ll be ready—“

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“What?” Charles blinked. “You’re not going anywhere. In case you haven’t seen yourself, you’re in no condition to be running back onto the battlefield.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone who has any kind of medical experience.” Charles held up his hand. “Before you respond, it’s not like you’re missing out on anything. Several of our best offensive fighters were injured and are recovering too. The whole team’s on break.”

Ezra shook his head. “We can’t afford to slow down. That monster might still be out there.”

“We need time to reestablish ourselves, One-Eye. Don’t worry, we’ve been working on a plan.”

“If the plan involves going back and trying it again with no major changes, I’m not going to be happy.”

Charles drew back, sputtering. “W-what? No, I would never do that! I was planning to add in a few changes.”

“Like what?”

“We’ll trap it. Lay down some spells in advance and then blow it to bits.”

Ezra grunted. “Sure.”

They were in silence for a few seconds. Charles’s expression changed.

"Tell me something, One-Eye… have you ever been to the capital?" he asked.

Ezra blinked. “What kind of question is that?”

"A simple one."

"No," he said, his voice flat. "Haven't had the pleasure."

Charles crossed his arms, studying him. “And Spirit Weapons? How much do you know about those?”

Ezra’s eye flicked up to meet Charles’s gaze.

“I’ve heard the stories, same as everyone else. Why?”

Charles didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch out between them.

“The medic mentioned something,” he said. “Said your mana core’s damaged, but there’s something else. Something that feels like a Spirit Weapon.”

Ezra’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped a fraction. “That’s interesting. Not sure what to tell you, though. I don’t have one.”

"You’re sure about that?"

Ezra gave a sigh and rolled his eye. "Pretty sure I’d know if I was carrying around something that important. Spirit Weapons aren’t exactly subtle from what I understand.”

Charles stood there, watching Ezra closely.

“Anything else you’re curious about?” Ezra said.

Charles shook his head slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. "No. That’ll do for now."

He turned to leave, but Ezra’s voice stopped him at the door. “Charles.”

Charles looked back, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t appreciate you digging around in my past,” Ezra said. “Some things are better left buried.”

Charles didn’t reply. He walked out, the door closing behind him.

----------------------------------------

Ezra trudged through the snow, his breath clouding in the cold air. His body still ached, and his mana core throbbed every time he tried to cast magic. The exercises were supposed to help, but he wasn’t noticing much improvement. His hand reached out, a flicker of energy sparking, only for pain to flood his spine and force him to shut it down.

“Damn it,” he said, shaking his hand as if to reset the attempt.

The town around him was quiet, the snow muffling the hustle and bustle. It’d been five days since the disastrous attempt to defeat the snow king. This also meant his countdown had ticked down.

[Please select your class immediately! If you don’t select it within the next 28 days, the system will be forced to disconnect to prevent your death!]

He'd been out here almost every day now, testing his strength, trying to rebuild the stamina that had been drained in the battle against the Snow King. But each time, his mana fought back—strained, sluggish.

As he leaned against a frost-covered fence, catching his breath, a voice called from behind him.

“You’re still trying?”

Ezra turned, spotting Yuki standing a few feet away. She looked as closed off as ever, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her dark eyes narrowed.

"Can’t afford to get lazy," Ezra said. “Not if I want to participate when we’re ready to go.”

Yuki’s frown deepened. “Yeah, well, you might want to reconsider pushing yourself too hard. That mana core of yours isn’t going to heal if you keep straining it.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “You keeping tabs on me?”

She scoffed. “Hardly. Just noticed you’ve been out here a lot.”

There was a beat of silence before Yuki shifted her weight, her gaze flicking away as if she were reluctant to speak. “I need your help with something.”

That caught him off guard. “With what?”

“My dimensional abilities.” Yuki’s voice was clipped, frustration evident in every word. “I can’t control them, not the way I need to. I’ve tried everything—focus, meditation, channeling energy in different ways. Nothing works. I thought…” She hesitated. “I thought maybe you could give me some advice.”

Ezra studied her for a moment, noting the tension in her posture, the guarded look in her eyes.

“Alright,” Ezra pushed himself off the fence. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Yuki led him to a clearing, the snow crunching underfoot as they moved further away from the town. Once there, she turned to face him, her expression tight. She raised her hand, a pulse of energy flickering to life. It shimmered in the air for a moment before spiraling out of control, dissipating with a sharp crack.

“See?” she said. “I can’t keep it stable.”

Ezra frowned. How was he supposed to help her? He wasn’t really an expert when it came to dimensional magic. He didn’t know much about magic in general.

Oh, if it was mana related…

Ezra activated [Mana Perception].

“Try again,” he said.

She did so, and like before, the skill fizzled to life before dying. He watched the flow of mana and realized in an instant what was happening.

Ezra nodded. “Your problem isn’t the power—it’s your control. You’re focusing too much on the output, not enough on the flow. It’s like trying to force a river through a dam—you need to let the energy move naturally, then guide it.”

Yuki frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Smaller channels, tighter control.”

Yuki stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. “That’s so vague, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just try it.”

Without a word, she lifted her hand again. This time, the energy flowed slower, more deliberate. Ezra watched closely, noting the slight adjustments she made as the power built within her.

For a moment, it seemed like she had it—her energy stable, contained. But then, a surge of power spiked, and suddenly, the air around them rippled, a jagged tear opening in the fabric of reality.

“Yuki!” Ezra shouted, stepping back as the rift expanded, swirling with chaotic energy.

Yuki’s eyes widened in panic, her control slipping. The tear grew larger, a deep void opening into a realm of swirling darkness. For a brief second, Ezra felt a pull.

“Shut it down!” Ezra said, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Now!”

With a strained cry, Yuki yanked her energy back, her hand shaking as she forced the rift closed. The tear vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the two of them standing in the snow, breathless.

Yuki, her face pale, looked at him. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t think…”

“You weren’t ready for that,” Ezra said. “But you made a breakthrough. Just be careful next time.”

Yuki’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t ask for this, you know."

“None of us did.”

She was quiet for a few seconds.

“I think I’m gonna vomit,” she said.

“If you’re going to, can you do that somewhere else?”

The moment he said it, he regretted it. There was a flash of understanding in Yuki’s eyes.

“Ezra…?” she said.

Before he could respond, snow crunched and they turned to see Pete.

“Hey, Charles wants to see us. We’re planning the next encounter.”

Ezra hurriedly walked away. “Got it.”

He couldn’t help but feel that he’d signed his own death warrant.