Chapter Thirty

One thing Harmony learned as a maid was when to summarily extract herself from a situation, either by being as invisible as a five-hundred-year-old credenza whose only use was to look nice and be dusted or find somewhere better to be. The latter would be best since she lacked the social armor of her position here. If only the room wasn’t so tight as to make it difficult for her to slip out. Two more short steps in by the professor, and she calculated being able to squeeze on by.

Except the professor pivoted and pointed a long finger right at her face. “Who are you?”

“I…”

“Child? Boy? Girl? Student?” The man grilled forcibly.

“She’s a friend,” Len said.

“Ha! I should fail you now, liar. You have no friends. That’s why you always made the best assistant. The social aptitude of a shambler. Didn’t even realize when some girls and guys offered physical favors for better grades. Suggested they do the extra credit. And when he does choose to associate with people, it is in a professional leveling capacity. Did you know, according to the sheets, he made the poor choice of doing so with the likes of stuck-up princesses and revolutionary servants who want to rip the whole system down?”

“Professor Dunphy, you know the sheets aren’t accurate.” Len started.

“Aren’t they? Don’t they hold a glimmer of truth? Yet, I’m insane for seeking the truth.”

Not improving Harmony’s opinion of Hazeldown University here.

“Perhaps I should leave?”

Len nodded vigorously from behind the white-coated professor’s shoulder.

“Stay. Having a witness to prove that I am judging him fairly is good. You wouldn’t want a different professor negating my examination results because of the faults they perceive me to have. I’d imagine without a witness, they’d call a commission, pick an investigator, ignore the investigator, reschedule Len’s exams, and tie him up for two, maybe three more years of editing work on their boring academic missives. “

At that suggestion, Len looked sick.

“Fine. I’ll stay but on one condition. I had hoped Len would help answer my question, but perhaps you are better suited.”

“Of course, I’m better suited. Just look at my glorious white coat. We have a deal.”

Power rippled across Harmony’s soul, causing extra little ripples in the churn she’d cultivated almost automatically. The power settled in like a gentle shackle, a skill activated when the deal was made. Her connection stat made her uncomfortably aware of the skill-enforced agreement, as it seemed to like it. It wasn’t like the professor could be a forbidden soul binder, but clearly, he had some agreement-based skill. That saying, don’t make deals with strangers, always rang extra true.

“Is there a way to sever a pet bond without harming the pet or bonded?”

Dunphy tapped his temple. “The lazy answer is that with all of the skills, stats, and powers, in the infinite realm of possibility, sure, there has to be a way. But the truth is we are talking about a primal bond that can extend past death, one of the oldest magics where a connection is formed when the class holder finds a companion and goes, I choose you.

Primal bonds have shown resistance to mind control, the ability to break contracts, be there through dimensional boundaries, and even defy the greatest powers known. A way to break them without some drastic repercussions? Don’t try your luck.”

“Thank you for your advice.” She replied neutrally. As skeptical as the maid was of the manic professor, he did give her the term primal bonds to explore.

The professor moved to point his finger at Len. “Now that we have a witness, it is your turn. The exam will be in three parts, knowledge, theoretical, and practical. What is the speed at which mana flows from zero-state to skill activation at level one?”

“Five heartbeats to base,” Len answered.

Harmony didn’t know if that was right. None of Tyler’s books talked about zero-state. Base was considered the lowest power you could use a skill activation at. It wasn’t like skills were useless outside of activation. For a base effect, [Poise and Bearing] straightened her spine and gave her the picture of perfect attention. She’d missed the following question with her musings. The professor was already asking a third as the pace ratcheted up.

Not wanting to give up a learning opportunity, she focused on questions and answers that made sense to how she saw the world. She wished Chronostasis would kick in so she could have more time to think about the rapid fire of information gleaned from the questions and answers. Some she found useless, like the exact date the kingdom was founded. Or irrelevant, like how modifiers and evolution affected aging. Others confirmed her thoughts and what she read, like how the more complete free skill absorption happens, the easier it is to gain skill levels in them. Authority, lords, history, mana growth, proper spell component handling, it all left her head spinning as the questions and answers slapped back and forth.

“Passable.” Dunphy ended that round.

Len panted heavily. Even his familiar flew down to land on his shoulder and pat him with a black wing. Now all of Harmony’s hard work wasn’t undone. If a hair or two was now out of place, it was merely a flaw that accentuated his [Beautician]-altered image. It was a temporary boost, though. Picking up an empty glass from his desk and a sheet of paper with a spell diagram sketched, he summoned a small storm cloud that rained into the glass, filling it up for him to drink.

“Now, present me with your understanding of the theoretical underpinnings of class and profession evolution,” Dunphy demanded.

“Our actions and experiences define the evolution options we get. Attending church daily increases the odds of getting a religious class, profession, or even the holy modifier. This has created the idea of path manuals with achievements and constellations to help guide people to certain evolutionary paths. People need to accomplish and experience more difficult tasks to get rarer options or even to level up their class and profession as they evolve and reach higher levels. But you can’t ignore the foundational aspect of all the skills and stats in your soul.”

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Harmony watched the professor be stoic until Len got to that “but.” There, an eyebrow raised slightly. Probably because it went against what Len had spouted previously, but as the wizard reached his personal leveling block and plucked the information out of his familiar, it was clear that he had changed. Cleaning up after her mom had been one of the reasons she’d been offered the maid profession. She was sure of it.

From there, the description of the theoretical underpinnings got dryer and more educational technobabble, referencing dead and living professors and theorists. Carter, Harmony’s favorite, was only mentioned once about Carter’s student Simone and her theory of harmonizing synergies to ease progression. The maid knew she might have nodded off if she wasn’t forced to watch by her agreement as the discussion turned into word soup for her. Even then, that oath-enforced attention only got her so far.

“Not bad. If you had gone with the ridiculous idea of minimizing some skills and stats and maximizing others as a viable progression path, as Professors Ziggler and Trubbs pressed upon you, I would have failed you or, worse, passed you and let you flounder under that misconception. As it is, I have to pass you by this woeful college’s standards.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The hardest has yet to come. Your practical portion is upon you.” The professor reached into his white coat, pulled out a spell scroll, and pointed it at Harmony. “Witness, inspect this.”

Familiar Augmentation.

Requires at least 12 levels of a magic-based class, 10 skill levels in familiar, two monster cores, four blank magical contracts, mana potion, and 3 thimbles of the casters blood.

Place materials around the target, channel mana and break the scroll.

He handed the scroll to Len.

“Professor, I can’t. The cost alone must be exorbitant.”

“I never selected a familiar. The scroll is useless to me. I happen to have all the required casting components as well for you. As you know, it is recommended that the caster of the scroll have at least twice the required levels for at least a decent chance of success for these kinds of augmentation spells, but skill and thaumaturgical knowledge can help. This will not be easy for you, but I am not asking you to do some near-impossible boundary-crossing magic.”

“Thank you, professor.”

“Don’t thank me yet. This is a pass-fail. If you don’t manage this, you’ll be digging through atrocious spelling, grammar mistakes, cripplingly bad paragraphs, and the worst educational theories in the combined kingdoms for the next year. Let that motivate you.”

Next came the bag of spell components minus the caster’s blood. Harmony watched as he cut his thumb to supply that. He stared at his raven, Farthington, in the eyes, communicating silently before setting up the components around him.

If Harmony was going to get value out of this, she needed to see the mana. She activated [Mana Rotation] Internally, she could feel the churn kick into high gear, ready to empower a spell, but it was the extrasensory feeling of outside mana she wanted. Under-utilized it due to the discomfort of holding the skill active. Maybe if she had it active, she wouldn’t have as easily been caught by the professor’s oath skill, binding her to this task.

She could sense the magical energy active in many items around the room, the scroll’s spell components, particularly the blank magical contracts, which felt like a weave of threads, but all of them were passive.

It was the people that interested her most. Professor Dunphy’s mana felt warm but hyperactively, as though his wild, exaggerated energy was synched to his mana. Len’s felt like a bucket of water sloshing back and forth or a tide moving at a regular rhythm. His familiar shared the trait though the timing wasn’t quite matching.

The raven sat in the middle of a circle made of components. At the same time, Len stood, scroll in hand over him. Harmony watched as he started to channel mana into the scroll, Len’s internal motion of mana helping to push it out. The wizard wisely focused on his connection and skills with his familiar. Still, Harmony was disappointed that she didn’t feel him using any other aspects of his profession or class. Raw mana and familiar bond. Through her connection stat, she could tell that the energy was tenuous but acceptable, if only because Farthington worked towards allowing the scroll to work from his end.

Playing with connections had gotten her into so much trouble recently that Harmony vowed to stay back as long as it looked like it would work. There was a methodical nature to charging the spell and how the crafting materials linked together. It looked neater than simply throwing a bag at the target, and the circular set-up labeled the target.

Len broke the scroll. Too soon, in the necromancer’s opinion, with how charged the scroll and materials were, but as her eyes flickered to Len and his now weakly moving mana, it was clear he’d given his all and simply was tapped out. She watched how the power was directed. It was at Farthington, but Harmony immediately saw what the wizard did wrong. The energy pushed at the feathers, which were dead material like hair and nails. She’d once changed the color of all Ambrosia’s birds mud-brown for a day as a prank. Len was probably hesitant about risking Farthington by pushing directly into him.

Harmony sneezed, and the raven squawked as a feather fell out, plucked free. A little bit of familiar blood dripped from the wound, creating an opening for the magic of the augmentation scroll, a portal allowing access.

Farthington started to change. His neck lengthened, tiny horns sprouting from his feathered head, and his body bulked up, turning more muscular, adaptive, and lizard-like. To balance the head, the tail grew long and whiplike. More Raven than a dragon, but now more a mix of something in between as the magic run its course.

Harmony wondered if the scroll had been more powered, artfully activated, and used if the transformation towards a dragon would be complete.

“I did it.”

“That you did. Consider yourself graduated.” Dunphy pulled out a letter and handed it to Len. “You’ll have enough of a burden fighting against Hazeldown University’s reputation when you get to the capitol. This letter of recommendation might not get you much except your foot in the door for the Capitol Institute once you evolve your class and profession. Remember, you’ll have to fight to keep them from slamming that door onto your foot.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t leave tomorrow. Take a week, maybe two, and finish editing my colleague’s papers for them while I find your replacement. It would be best not to give them any reason to try to fight my decision on this.”

Free of her oath, Harmony got up and slipped out of the room. Len would crash and sleep all day if her suspicions were right the moment his energy dropped from that experience.

She quietly made it to the Brown house entrance until a hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her.

“If I thought Len knew what you did for him or that it was planned, you would learn why they called me maddest here,” Professor Dunphy whispered to her harshly before letting go of her shoulder and jogging out of student housing and towards the main campus.

Harmony allowed three slow breaths to calm down before she, too, left.