Monster Anatomy and Dungeon Theory class.

The droning voice of Professor Drake faded into background noise as he lectured about dungeon classifications. Something about how the Guilds ranked them from F to SSS based on the monsters inside, the resources, and the death rates...

Every muscle in Adom's body screamed in protest. When he'd collapsed into bed last night after the fight, the adrenaline had still been coursing through his system, masking most of the pain. But this morning? It felt like his body had waited until he opened his eyes to unleash every single ache it had been saving up. His ribs, where the creature's fist had nearly caught him, throbbed with particular intensity. He shifted in his seat, immediately regretting the movement.

A sudden warm touch on his ankle made him jump, sending a fresh wave of pain through his battered body.

"Gizmo! Stop that!"

Adom looked down to find a small red salamander gazing up at him with opalescent eyes. Their face seemed permanently fixed in what looked like a gentle smile, head tilted slightly to one side in curiosity. Despite his discomfort, Adom couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm so sorry!" A lanky boy with disheveled brown hair hurried over, trying to scoop up the wayward familiar. "He gets a bit too friendly sometimes."

"It's fine," Adom chuckled, recognizing Gus Howl from his combat class. "He's quite charming, actually."

The salamander, instead of returning to his Bonded One, crept closer to Adom. Almost instinctively, Adom reached down to scratch his head. The scales were surprisingly soft, almost velvet-like under his fingers. The creature's eyes closed in contentment, and suddenly his entire body began to glow, small flames flickering across its skin.

"Gizmo, no!" Gus exclaimed, finally managing to grab his familiar. "Sorry, again. He, uh, tends to catch fire when he gets too excited. The healers say it's like magical hiccups."

"Don't worry about it," Adom said, still smiling. "A little fire never hurt anyone."

"He seems to like you. I didn't think you had fire affinity, Sylla." Gus whispered, watching as Gizmo settled contentedly in his arms, still giving Adom that perpetual salamander smile.

Adom glanced at the familiar, keeping his voice low as Professor Drake continued his lecture about dungeon classifications. "Fire and wind, actually."

"Double affinity?" Gus's eyes widened, before he caught himself and lowered his voice again. "Nice! I'm fire, but..." He gestured at Gizmo with a slight grin, "probably obvious, huh?"

Adom held back a chuckle, nodding instead. He noticed how Gus's hair seemed to shimmer with a slight reddish tint under the classroom's magical lights, and how his skin had a warm, almost scale-like sheen to it - subtle traits he'd gained from his bond with Gizmo. The boy even had the same kind of permanent half-smile as his familiar, though Adom doubted he was aware of it.

Gizmo squirmed in Gus's arms, his opal eyes following the movement of Professor Drake's chalk on the board. The familiar's attention was focused entirely on the lecture, occasionally tilting his head at particularly complex theories. A few students nearby smiled at the salamander's scholarly attitude, though they quickly returned their attention to their notes when the professor glanced their way.

"He understands everything already?" Adom mouthed silently, impressed.

Most familiars took years to develop such comprehensive understanding. The stronger the bond between familiar and bonded, the more they evolved together - some of the most powerful pairs had familiars who could speak just like humans, read complex texts, even appreciate fine arts and music.

Gus nodded proudly, running a finger along Gizmo's back. "Sometimes better than I do," he whispered, earning a smug look from his familiar.

"Mr. Sylla and Mr. Howl, care to share your little conversation with the rest of the class?"

Professor Drake's voice cut through the lecture hall, making every head turn toward them. Across the room, Sam let out a visible groan, his hand meeting his forehead in exasperation.

"Sorry, Professor," Adom said quickly, straightening in his seat despite his protesting muscles.

"Today's lecture is particularly important," Drake continued, his chalk hovering mid-air. "This material will feature prominently in your final examinations."

"We were paying attention, sir!" Gus piped up.

Adom nearly sighed. Professor Drake was usually reasonable, but Gus just had to push it...

"Is that so?" Drake's eyebrows rose, his lips curving into a slight smile. "My apologies then. Perhaps you'd care to tell us what we were just discussing, Mr. Howl?"

Gus's confident expression crumbled. "Uh... well... we were talking about..." Even Gizmo seemed to shrink in his arms, the salamander's usual smile looking more like a grimace.

"Mr. Sylla?" Drake turned his attention to Adom. "Perhaps you could help your classmate?"

"Uh..." Adom's eyes darted across the room, catching Sam's frantic hand movements. His friend was trying to draw something in the air - an 'M' shape? Sam wasn't finished, but Drake was waiting. "M-monsters...?"

Without even turning around, Drake's smile widened slightly. "Mr. Harbinski, while your loyalty to your friends is admirable, please refrain from providing unauthorized assistance."

"Sorry, Professor," Sam called out, prompting scattered laughter throughout the classroom.

Adom met his friend's eyes apologetically, then caught sight of Mia a few seats away. She was trying to suppress her giggles behind her hand, and when their eyes met, she gave him a small wave. He couldn't help but smile back, even as his cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Professor Drake sighed.

"As I was explaining before, monsters are ordinary creatures that have undergone prolonged exposure to concentrated mana. When a living being absorbs sufficient quantities of magical energy over an extended period, it undergoes a transformation."

He gestured to the diagram on the board. "For instance, a common wolf, after years of exposure to dense mana, might evolve into a dire wolf. Similarly, if you were to leave a domestic dog in a dungeon environment with high mana density for several years, it would likely transform into a Bloodmaw."

His chalk drew quick illustrations in the air - a normal wolf morphing into the larger, more fearsome dire wolf, its features becoming sharper, more magical in nature.

"Do you understand now, gentlemen?"

"Yes, Professor," Adom and Gus responded in unison.

"Good," Professor Drake nodded. "And remember, next class we'll have a special guest from the Pentoss Guild bringing in an actual monster for a practical demonstration."

The classroom erupted in excited whispers. Someone from the back called out, "What kind of monster, Professor?"

"That," Drake smiled, tapping his chalk against the board, "would be spoiling the surprise, wouldn't it?"

In his past life, Adom remembered this day clearly - it had been a Shimmerscale, a monster evolved from a common lizard. The creature's scales could refract light, making it partially invisible, but it was generally docile unless threatened. The memory brought a smile to his face; it had been one of the more entertaining classes that semester.

"Now, if we could return to our discussion of classification systems..." Drake's voice cut through the excitement.

*****

As the class filed out, Sam practically bounced over to Adom's desk. "Okay, seriously, what happened to you? First you're suddenly good at magic, then you're beating up Damus, and now you're chatting right in the middle of a class?"

"Let's just say I've been through a lot," Adom replied, quickly packing his books.

"There you go again with the mysterious stuff! Stop talking like some old guy."

"But I am an old guy."

"Right, and I'm the King of—" Sam paused. "Hey, want to head to the library? After that performance, I have about a million questions."

"Can't. Got something to do today." Adom slung his bag over his shoulder, wincing slightly at his protesting muscles.

"What? But what was all that about? The theory stuff, and—"

Adom was already heading for the door. "If you're that curious, you better keep up!" he called back, breaking into a light jog.

As he rushed through the doorway, the sound of Sam scrambling to gather his things behind him, he missed the soft "Excuse me, Adom..." that floated from somewhere near the front row.

Adom weaved through the shifting corridors of Xerkes, the map of today's layout guiding each turn. Left at the alchemy classroom, right where the astronomy tower would be tomorrow, straight through where the dining hall had been last week. His lungs burned, but each step meant another precious second added to his time.

"Adom!" Sam wheezed behind him. "Please... stop..."

"Can't! They close early on Fridays!"

"Who... closes... what?"

"The club!"

They dodged around a group of third-years practicing levitation, their black robes billowing as objects floated around them. Adom grabbed Sam's sleeve, yanking him away from a wall that was mid-shift.

Students parted before them like a sea of black robes and loosened ties - some jumping aside, others just watching the spectacle of the usually reserved Adom Sylla practically dragging a gasping Sam Harbinsky through the halls.

"Since when... do you even... like to... run?" Sam panted.

Adom didn't answer, focused on counting the archways. Three... four... there! He skidded to a halt so suddenly that Sam nearly crashed into him.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"We're here!" Adom announced, while Sam doubled over, hands on his knees.

"Here... where?"

Adom gestured to the heavy wooden door in front of them, its brass sign gleaming: "Combat Athletics Club."

At Xerkes, clubs weren't just after-school activities - they were a vital part of student life. Each year, ambitious students vied for the coveted title of Best Student, which came with perks like priority access to restricted sections of the library, private study rooms, and most importantly, the right to participate in advanced seminars with visiting masters. The clubs offered precious additional points toward this goal, but they were more than just a means to an end.

From the Poetry & Prose Society to the Dueling Association, clubs gave students the chance to explore interests beyond pure magical theory. Some practiced swordplay, others honed their aim at the archery range, while the Culinary Arts Guild experimented with both magical and non-magical recipes. The Theatrical Company put on elaborate performances, and the Gardening Circle maintained the academy's extensive botanical gardens.

Competition between clubs was fierce - the top three at year's end received special privileges, funding, and their names engraved on the great shield in the main hall. They also received the Golden Medal, one of the most prestigious honors a club could earn - though in the end, it was just that: a medal.

Some said the Combat Athletics Club hadn't made the top three in over a decade.

Adom and Sam had always steered clear of this whole system, preferring the quiet corners of the library where they could read their fantasy novels and talks of magic in peace. They weren't exactly what you'd call "joiners" - Sam could barely speak in front of groups, and Adom... well, until recently, Adom had been even worse.

"You're not serious, are you?" Sam's voice cracked. "Clubs? Us? We talked about this - we don't have time for... for..."

"Social activities?" Adom finished, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"Exactly! We're supposed to be focusing on real magic, on making groundbreaking discoveries!" Sam's eyes lit up with that familiar fire. "Remember our pact? To become the greatest mages in history? To revolutionize magical theory together? Become the next Law Borealis!"

Adom remembered. Oh, how he remembered.

Two awkward kids, huddled in the library's corner, sharing wild dreams between dusty tomes. They'd spend hours arguing about who would make the next big breakthrough, each convinced they'd be the one to unlock the secrets of the universe. In his past life, he'd actually done it - reached those heights, achieved those dreams. For Sam. For both of them.

And what had it gotten him? Standing atop a mountain of achievements built on corpses, watching the world burn.

"Sam," Adom said softly, "those dreams... they're beautiful. And you should chase them. But," he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we were wrong about one thing. The greatest discoveries, the real breakthroughs - they don't happen in isolation. Every major advancement in magical theory came from collaboration, from people working together, challenging each other's ideas."

"But we work together!" Sam protested.

"Two socially awkward bookworms hiding in the library isn't exactly what I mean." Adom chuckled. "Look, I get it. More than you know. The idea of putting ourselves out there, of dealing with other people - it's terrifying. But that's exactly why we need to do it."

"But—"

"You can't change the world from inside a shell, Sam. Trust me, I've tried." A pause. "Those fantasy books we love? The lone genius who saves the day through sheer brilliance? That's not how it works in real life. Real change, real progress - it comes from connections, from understanding people, from being able to work with them even when they drive you crazy."

Sam fidgeted with his tie, looking uncertain. "I just... I'm not good with people."

"Neither am I," Adom said. "But that's a skill, like any other. And like any skill, it gets better with practice."

This, to Adom, was an important step.

He wasn't just trying to help Sam become more socially adept. He was trying to prepare him, to help him develop the strength and resilience he'd need for what was coming. The world wouldn't end because of failed spells or flawed theories - it would end because of people, their choices, their failures to understand each other. And maybe, just maybe, by helping Sam grow beyond their comfortable little bubble, he could save more than just his friend's life this time.

"Besides," Adom added with a grin, "you can't tell me you're not at least a little curious about what's behind this door."

Sam sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. But if it's just blockheads and brutes in there, I'm out."

"Deal," Adom said, reaching for the handle.

The door swung open to pure mayhem.

"COME ON BRO, YOU GOT THIS!" A massive student bellowed at his partner doing push-ups. "TWENTY MORE! PAIN IS JUST WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY!"

"AAAAAAAARGH!" The guy doing push-ups screamed back with each rep.

WHAM! Right in front of them, a fist connected with abs that looked carved from stone. Both Sam and Adom involuntarily clutched their stomachs.

"HARDER!" the guy getting punched demanded, spittle flying. "MY GRANDMOTHER HITS HARDER THAN THAT!"

"Huh?" Sam's voice was barely a squeak.

To their left, two students were tangled in what looked like a human pretzel. One had the other's leg bent at an angle that made geometry weep. The victim's face was purple, veins popping on his neck like angry snakes.

"TAP OUT, KAIUS!"

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!"

"THAT CAN BE ARRANGED!"

In another corner, three students were taking turns body-slamming each other into training mats. "LIGHTWEIGHT BABY!" one screamed as he got thrown.

"Bro, your form is OFF!" someone shouted across the room. "Watch me! WATCH ME! See how I'm CRUSHING my boy's windpipe? That's the proper technique!"

Two students charged each other like bulls, colliding with a thunderous crack that echoed off the walls. Neither backed down. "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" they roared in unison.

"YOU'RE A BEAST!" "NO, YOU'RE A BEAST!" "WE'RE ALL BEASTS!"

Sam and Adom exchanged looks.

Without a word, Sam turned on his heel and tried to casually stroll away. "Well, I think we can say we gave this a fair—"

Adom's hand shot out, grabbing Sam's robe in an iron grip.

"No no no no—" Sam's shoes squealed against the floor as Adom dragged him inside. "Are you CRAZY?! This is a murder dome! We're going to DIE!"

"We won't die," Adom said flatly, pulling his thrashing friend past two students practicing what appeared to be competitive face-slapping while chanting magical theorems.

"YES WE WILL! That guy just suplexed someone through a—IS THAT A WALL OF FIRE?!" HOW IS THAT ALLOWED IN SCHOOL?!

"It's just Friday," Adom deadpanned.

"JUST FRI—" Sam's voice cracked as someone nearby let out a war cry that shook dust from the ceiling. "If this is Friday, I don't want to see Monday! Let me go! I have theorems to memorize! THEOREMS!"

Ignoring Sam's increasingly desperate protests, Adom scanned the chaos for his target. Hugo Faible, 6th year prefect and president of this madhouse, wasn't hard to spot - that shock of purple hair stood out even in this circus of mayhem.

There he was, at the far end of the room, casually bench pressing another student as if they were a barbell. "EIGHT!" Hugo roared, arms trembling. "NINE!"

"YOU'RE A MACHINE!" the human weight screamed back encouragingly.

"TEN! LIGHTWEIGHT!" Hugo's voice boomed over the general cacophony of screams, thuds, and what sounded suspiciously like bones cracking.

"I want to go home," Sam whimpered, still trying to squirm out of Adom's grip. "I have a very nice book about theoretical transmutation waiting for me. It's peaceful. It doesn't bench press people."

Hugo reached failure at twelve, arms shaking as his human barbell rolled off and landed gracefully beside him. The guy immediately handed Hugo a water bottle, grinning.

"Weight spell was set to 242 lbs today," the human weight announced proudly. "New PR!"

Sam let out a hollow chuckle, eyes fixed on the ground. "I hate you," he muttered to Adom. "I hate you so much right now."

Adom smiled down at his friend, a look of almost pity in his eyes. "I know."

"When I die here, I'm going to haunt you. I'll follow you around the library, knocking books off shelves. Forever."

"That's fair."

Hugo approached them, wiping sweat from his forehead before putting on his glasses. "Hello," he said, "can I help you?"

At seventeen, Hugo Faible was already over 6 feet 6 inches tall. His frame packed with muscle. Being half Freeman explained his insane genetics - that bloodline was known for producing warriors of exceptional physical prowess.

In Adom's future, Hugo would become a revered contributor in the field of magical theory as well as one of the most fearsome battle mages of their generation.

Back to the subject at hand. Adom had come here for two things.

The first:

"Hi," Adom said, adjusting his broken glasses. "My friend here and I—"

"Not your friend," Sam muttered.

"—would like to join the club, if possible."

Hugo looked perplexed for a moment, studying the two scrawny students before him. Then Adom smiled, and Hugo's face immediately lit up like a holiday spell.

"Welcome!" he beamed, his entire demeanor shifting to that of an excited puppy. "You've absolutely come to the right place! We never turn away anyone looking to better themselves." He gestured enthusiastically at the chaos around them. "Don't let all this intimidate you - everyone here started somewhere. Some of our strongest members could barely lift a spellbook when they first joined!"

Behind them, someone crashed through what sounded like several pieces of furniture.

"ALL GOOD!" a voice called out. "THE BLEEDING IS MINIMAL!"

"See?" Hugo grinned warmly. "Just one big family here. Though maybe we should discuss the details somewhere slightly less... lively?"

"I'm going to die," Sam whispered.

Hugo led them to an office that seemed almost jarringly normal compared to the chaos outside. Everything was meticulously organized - training schedules on one wall, achievement certificates on another. The room smelled of muscle recovery potion and sandalwood incense.

"Just need signatures here and here," Hugo said, pulling out some forms.

"Wait!" He reached into a drawer, producing what looked like a small decorated tube. "It's tradition!"

Adom picked up the quill. "Do you offer boxing lessons?"

"Oh yes!" Hugo's eyes lit up. "We have Classical Pugilism, Dwarven Ground Fighting, Elvish Wind-Strike Style, good old wrestling of course. There's also Meridian Combat - that's like hitting pressure points but with more screaming - and Storm Fist technique." He pulled out a schedule. "Everything's properly structured. You start with basics, then progress through intermediate forms. We track everyone's development, make sure the foundations are solid before moving up. Can't build a castle on sand, right?"

"That's exactly what I need," Adom said, signing.

POP! The tube exploded in a shower of colored paper and magical sparkles.

Hugo laughed - somehow managing to make even that sound welcoming rather than intimidating. That same charisma would serve him well in the future.

Then it was Sam's turn. He stared at the form while Hugo watched expectantly, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. Adom couldn't tell if Sam was signing because he didn't want to disappoint such genuine excitement, or because he feared what might happen if he didn't (though there was nothing to fear).

Sam gulped, picked up the quill, and signed.

POP! Another shower of sparkles.

"You did good, kid," Adom patted his shoulder.

The expression on Sam's face did more in conveying his current sentiments towards the situation, and towards Adom than any words could.

Hugo wrapped them both in a bone-crushing hug. "WELCOME, BROTHERS!"

"Can't... breathe..." Sam wheezed.

"That's the spirit!" Hugo beamed.

*****

"New brothers!" Hugo announced proudly. "Everyone, meet Adom and Sam!"

The group immediately surrounded them with the energy of excited puppies in extremely muscular bodies.

"Welcome to the iron family!" A tall girl with scarred knuckles grinned. "I'm Diana."

"Took courage to walk through that door," another nodded approvingly. "Harry's the name. First step's always the hardest."

"You guys look like proper nerds," a broad-shouldered senior chuckled. "Phil here. Nothing wrong with that though - Hugo here was the biggest nerd in third year."

"Still am," Hugo adjusted his glasses proudly. "Just a nerd who can bench press a horse now."

"And now you two are on the path to becoming transcendent nerds too!" added a guy with a fresh black eye. "I'm Kaius, by the way. The one Phil couldn't submit earlier."

Adom smiled - second time he'd heard that phrase today. Must be fate.

Sam was trying his best to look unintimidated, but Adom could see his fingers fidgeting with his robe's sleeve.

"Petra," a stocky girl with close-cropped hair raised her hand with a grin. "Welcome to the family."

"Knowledge is power," a student said sagely, introducing himself as Vale, "but sometimes power needs to be power too, you know?"

They all nodded as if this made perfect sense.

This was exactly what Adom needed - a controlled environment to train his [White Wyrm's Body] skill, taking measured hits that would build his resistance while extending the time before the first symptoms appeared. The disciplined routine and support system would be invaluable, and Sam... well, Sam needed this more than he knew.

But that was only the first reason.

The second—and most important—reason Adom had joined the Combat Athletics Club was standing right there, adjusting his glasses and excitedly explaining proper breathing techniques.

Hugo Faible wasn't just the enthusiastic leader of the academy's most muscle-headed club. He was also one of Professor Kim's research assistants. And Professor Kim? That was where things got interesting.

Professor Kim was one of Xerkes' brightest minds, teaching advanced theoretical magic to fifth through seventh years. His groundbreaking work in micro-magic—the study of magical phenomena at their smallest, most fundamental level—had revolutionized entire fields of magical theory.

In about five months from now, the professor would discover something extraordinary. A phenomenon that would change everything—and ultimately get him killed. His groundbreaking research would be twisted, corrupted, and weaponized a few years later into one of the deadliest creations in history:

Dragon Breath.

A name that would one day make even hardened warriors tremble.

This weapon would ignite the first truly modern magical war, a decade-long nightmare that would claim millions of lives. From its ashes, other conflicts would arise—one of which would ultimately take Adom's father from him.

But right now, Professor Kim was still alive. Still teaching. Still months away from his fateful discovery. And Hugo Faible was one of the few people with regular access to the professor's laboratory.

The problem was simple, then: Adom needed to get closer to Hugo. Through him, to Professor Kim. Before history repeated itself. Before the dominoes began to fall. Before Dragon Breath turned the sky black with death.