The ride to the capital took 6 hours, which meant 6 hours of Elena quivering in her skin with tension.
She was dressed properly, her posture impeccable as she sat on the velvet bench.
Across from her, Kael perched on the floor.
Not next to Elena, he had declined the bench with a shake of his head.
Kael was dressed in a way that made him look like any other guard at the gates of the capital, his new sword concealed by the coarse wool cloak that made him look like a beggar’s joke.
But the golden thread running between them was thick enough to tie a noose, humming with promise.
Every hour Elena checked Kael’s status [ASSET #1 COMBAT RANK: F+ → E-] Growing fast.
Whether it was the regular applications of Golden Touch, the nutritious diet, or the rigorous training, Kael was leveling up at an astounding rate.
If this continued, he would be at D-grade by the time they reached the capital.
“Look at me,” Elena said quietly.
Kael’s eyes flickered up, then down.
Good, he was maintaining his cover even in the safety of the carriage.
“No, really look,” Elena specified.
The young man complied, the gold in his eyes dimming to old honey, and narrowing pupils—barely, barely perceptible.
The seal was thinning, practically down to the molecular level.
“Your eyes,” Elena murmured, “they’re changing.” “I know,” Kael replied, his voice barely audible over the creak of the horse-drawn carriage.
“I can feel it, something inside my head is…
stretching, becoming looser.” “Can you control it?” “For now,” he paused, “the sword helps, having a weapon, having a purpose helps.” Elena nodded; she had read that particular passage in the mad theologian’s manuscript.
The Vortigern needed anchors, things, people, ideas to hold on to, to stop himself from consuming the vessel in an attempt to comprehend the vastness of the demon realm.
That was what she was to him, an anchor, and the thought filled her with unease.
“At the Academy,” Elena said, “there will be a girl, golden-haired, with blue eyes, always surrounded by light.
She’ll try to save you, to heal the burns, to nourish you, to rescue you from the evil villainess.” “Not with words,” Kael said, his expression inscrutable if not for the faint tightening of his jaw.
“She’ll try to use her powers on me.” “That’s correct,” Elena said, leaning forward until she was close enough to see the subtle veins of gold running under Kael’s skin.
“You will reject her help.
Not with words, but by ignoring her.
She is not your savior, I am not your villain, and there is no script, only what I choose to write.
Understood?” “Understood.” The carriage suddenly grew colder.
“And if she lays a hand on you?” Something twisted in Elena’s chest, a vile, greenish sensation.
“She won’t,” Elena said, “because you’ll prevent her from doing so.” The carriage arrived at noon, and Elena pulled down the curtain to reveal a city that had existed only in the periphery of her vision, a collection of images that appeared during loading screens in the main game.
Only now, she saw that it was much bigger than she remembered, stretching from one horizon to another like the treasure hoard of a dragon, dotted with golden domes and high marble towers, and whiter than milk canals that ran through its streets.
Armed patrols in the Emperor’s red livery stood amidst the throngs of merchants, nobles, and commoners that filled the thoroughfares, but her eyes were drawn to the single structure at the center of it all, perched atop the hill that overlooked the palace.
The Academy was a strange combination of cathedral, fortress, and palace, its spires of different colors piercing the sky, but it was the central tower that made Elena’s breath hitch in her throat.
The tower was white, impossibly white, and from the game’s loading screen, she knew that this was the Headmaster’s domain, the beating heart of the Academy, the place where students came to be graded, where the failures were sent away and the successful ones…
received their rewards.
Where in six days, she would be forced to demonstrate her power and skill to become a laughing stock.
Unless she rewrote the rules.
The carriage came to a halt near the gates, and a portly gentleman in the livery of the Academy opened the door.
Elena stepped out into a sea of curious and unfriendly faces.
She was dressed modestly, in a long coat, charcoal-gray trousers, and a silver cravat that matched her hair, but the look of a young merchant prince, far from his homeland, was not the first appearance she wanted to make.
“-Vance, is it not?
The Duke’s daughter-” “-I heard her powers were useless, something with shining stones-” “-look at the boy, he looks like he could die if the sun rose higher-” Elena ignored these stares, turning to Kael who was already climbing down the steps with the unsteady gait of a drunkard.
“Take the bags to my quarters,” she said, “then stand outside the door, do not engage with anyone.” “Yes, my lady,” Kael muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor, and he began collecting their bags, which he had insisted on bringing in person, adding another layer of disguise.
As he stumbled toward the servant’s entrance, a boy in noble clothes laughed boisterously.
“That’s your guard?
My nanny is better looking and meaner!” Elena turned slowly, taking in the youth’s delicate features and the sound of donkey laughter that was his voice.
She did not know his name, in the game, he would be another faceless NPC labeled [Noble Student B] that would say one contemptuous remark before vanishing for good.
Elena smiled; it was a practiced smile, the one that said she knew how much this man’s life was worth and decided it wasn’t worth the paper her teeth were made of.
“You are right,” she said sweetly, “he does not look dangerous, does he not?” She walked on, past the youth, and toward the registration hall, where she was greeted by the cold grandeur of the Academy’s interior.
Here, there were no distractions, only the endless reminders of the power of magic, be it floating chandeliers in sapphire halls, self-sorting bookshelves, or portraits that watched every new guest with their lifelike eyes.
Elena kept her posture straight, her back free of tension, and her mind only on the numbers.
The queue to register was surprisingly short, most students having arrived days earlier, and Elena was almost disappointed at the prospect of not being treated like a novelty, an afterthought, a joke.
As she neared the front, the woman at the desk barely spared her a look.
“Name.” “Elena Vance.” The woman blinked, a man with pince-nez and a mouth too large for his face looked up from her clipboard.
“Vance, the Duke’s daughter, the Golden Touch.” “That’s the one.” The woman’s lip curled as she marked something on the clipboard.
“The North Tower, room 304.
Your evaluation is in six days, the format is a public demonstration.
You are to use your abilities in front of the faculty and the student body.
This is your room key and your schedule.
Your…
attendant has been assigned to the servant barracks, he is not to enter student quarters after curfew.” “Of course,” Elena said, taking the key and the schedule as if she had been expecting it.
The North Tower was small but functional, with a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a view of the training grounds from the window.
Elena locked the door with a turn of the key and smiled at the status screen that had appeared in her periphery.
[LOCATION: ROYAL MAGIC ACADEMY—NORTH TOWER] [MANA DENSITY: HIGH] [ENVIRONMENTAL BONUS: ASSET GROWTH +15%] [ASSET #1 COMBAT RANK: E- → E] Elena’s lips parted, the mana in this place was fueling Kael’s growth exponentially, pushing him further and further away from the edge.
At this rate, the boy would be at D-grade by tomorrow night.
There was a knock at the door, and Kael stepped inside, carrying the bags, and carefully hiding the extent of his injuries.
“Servant barracks are full,” he said quietly, “I was placed in the cellar under the North Tower.” Elena moved aside to let him in, and Kael deposited the bags with a thud on the floor.
Not asking, not accusing, Kael looked up and met her eyes, and for a fraction of a second, the mask slipped, the gold in his eyes burning away the shadows of the pupils.
“I picked it up,” he said, “I apologized, I got in their way.” “Good,” Elena said, placing a hand on his shoulder, and activating the Golden Touch in a place where anyone could see, in her room, behind an open door, “you did everything right.” The light exploded from Elena’s fingertips, wrapping Kael in a cocoon of liquid gold, and Elena felt the power surge through him, her own muscles tense with the need to move.
The mana in this place was reacting, feeding on the potency of her touch, and the effect was…
absolutely delightful.
[DAILY INVESTMENT APPLIED] [ENVIRONMENTAL BONUS: +15%] [ASSET #1 GROWTH: 0.31% → 0.38%] [COMBAT RANK: E → E+] Kael gasped as suddenly as if Elena had thrown him onto a bed, and she grinned, withdrawing her hand and brushing invisible dust from her coat.
“It seems we’re going to speed things up,” Elena said, watching the status screen critically.
“Morning and evening, twice a day, until we get to the final rank.
This environment is a veritable investment fund, isn’t it?” Elena peered out the window at the training grounds, where noble children played, hurling fireballs and shooting bolts of lightning from their fingertips, unaware that they were the puppets of an unseen force.
“We’re going to destroy this place,” Elena whispered, Kael’s shoulder almost touching her, the weight of his words pressing against her ribs.
“We are going to tear it down, brick by brick.” Yes, she said to herself, watching the horizon where the sky met the towers of the Academy, we are.