Diana led me through winding streets I'd never seen before, well away from the familiar parts of La-Roc I'd been exploring all week. The building she stopped at looked like nothing special from the outside—weathered stone, modest windows, a place you'd walk past without a second glance.

  "This is my favorite tavern in La-Roc," she announced, pushing open a heavy wooden door.

  "It's the only tavern left in La-Roc," came a booming laugh from behind a massive bar that dominated the far wall. Glasses hung in neat rows along a rail, and the warm lighting gave the place that perfect hole-in-the-wall atmosphere—warm light, scattered tables, a crackling fireplace, and shelves that were almost completely bare of bottles.

  The man restocking those shelves was built like a mountain with arms. Bald head, an absolutely magnificent waxed mustache, and muscles that strained against his collared shirt like they were planning a prison break. He carried a full wooden crate in one arm as if it was made of feathers.

  "And we're not normally open yet, ya fucking drunkard," he added with obvious affection.

  "Oh, shove it, Dick," Diana shot back, dropping into a chair by the window with theatrical flair.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you? And I've told you a thousand times—it's Richard." He stepped around the bar, giving me my first good look at someone who could probably bench press a car.

  "Careful, darling. Chas is back in town. Wouldn't want him getting the wrong idea." Diana's grin turned wicked. "Did you remember to get any of the good stuff?"

  "Of course I did." Richard cracked open the crate with his bare hands—no tools, just grip strength that made my bones ache in sympathy. He pulled out two familiar dark bottles and set them on our table with three glasses.

  "Richard, this is Ben Crawford, my apprentice and—"

  "I know who he is, Nana." The way he said it carried a weight of respect that surprised me. "He's the Breaker, and the reason this place is even still standing. Bottles are on me."

  Diana raised an eyebrow as she popped one open. "Generous of you."

  "And Ben," Diana continued with a grin that promised incoming chaos, "this is Prince Richard Everhart of the Longwood—first in line for the throne of Virexus, Jeweled City of the Greatwood."

  Maybe it was the pain radiating from my shoulder, but I couldn't suppress the snicker that escaped. Diana burst out laughing. Richard just groaned like he knew this was going to happen.

  "Dick of the Longwood?" I asked, barely containing my amusement.

  "For fuck's sake—the Longwood is the habitable region in the Greatwood where Virexus sits," Richard said with the patience of someone who'd had this exact conversation a thousand times.

  "Tell him what the city guards the entrance to," Diana added helpfully, pouring our drinks.

  Richard's sigh could have powered a windmill. "The Broadrift Gorge."

  I looked at Diana, who was grinning like the cat who'd caught the canary.

  "You're absolutely fucking with me right now," I laughed.

  "People have been mocking our geography for over a century. My grandfather knew exactly what he was doing when he named everything." Richard's expression turned more serious. "And besides, I gave up my claim to the throne to be here."

  I raised my glass, studying this mountain of a man who'd walked away from a kingdom. "You're the second noble I've met who's done that."

  Richard smiled and took a sip of the Sevenfold liquor. "There's a few of us scattered around. I've always believed the Hunters are more important than any throne, and recent events prove that increasingly true."

  "This might be ignorant," I admitted, nearly draining my glass as my shoulder reminded me it was broken, "but wouldn't you be able to support the Hunters better from a position of power?"

  "Ha! I like someone who speaks their mind." Richard's chuckle was like a landslide made of humor. "Direct and to the point."

  "Politics accomplish nothing worthwhile, Ben," Diana chimed in, refilling our glasses. "Just a lot of hot air and wasted time."

  "Not the first time I've heard you say that." I shook my head, grinning despite the pain. "Alright, so why are we day-drinking instead of finding me a healing pill? This actually hurts like hell."

  "Richard here has a rather strong Life affinity, same as you and me," Diana explained. "He's going to show you how to heal yourself. I was absolutely terrible at it, but I think you'll have better luck."

  "Oh, am I?" Richard shot her a look that could have melted steel. "I'm just going to teach advanced mana aspecting to a complete stranger?"

  "Most likely," Diana said, topping off his glass with the kind of casual confidence that suggested this was already a done deal.

  Richard groaned but reached for the bottle. "Fine. But I'm not holding his hand through it. If he doesn't get it immediately, we're done."

  "He's been surprisingly good at figuring things out," Diana said, taking a sip. "Bound his Seal in a week."

  Richard's impressive eyebrows climbed towards the ceiling. He took a deep breath and turned to face me fully. "If your Seal has roots in Life runes, you can bind that power directly to your will and gain control beyond simple runic concepts."

  "Think of it less like casting a spell and more like developing a personal technique," Diana added. "Ways to use your Seal's aspects beyond just having them exist."

  Richard shot her another warning look, then pulled a small vial of oil from his pocket. "Have another drink first. This is going to hurt worse before it gets better. If you can't figure it out..." He set the vial on the table. "Take the potion and we'll pretend this conversation never happened. This kind of training usually comes much later."

  "What makes you think I can learn it now?" I asked, my breath coming in ragged bursts as the pain intensified.

  "I don't." He shot a pointed look at Diana and refilled my cup. The alcohol was definitely helping, turning the sharp agony into a dull, manageable throb.

  "The process is simple in theory," Richard explained. "You need to convert your mana pathways to Life-aspected energy. Same effect as a healing pill, but completely internalized. Like willing your body to change, feeding the Life aspect of your Seal back into yourself." He paused, watching my face. "Normally, mana flows into your soul. For this to work, it needs to flow back out while retaining the Life aspect. Make sense?"

  "So I cycle mana through my Seal and somehow get it back out again?" I asked.

  Diana's grin widened. "One might say that's exactly what the process is called. I told you he was smarter than he looks, Richard."

  "We'll see. Getting it back out is the hard part." Richard's expression remained skeptical. "The body and soul instinctively hoard mana as a survival mechanism. Even if you extract it, you need to give it purpose immediately or it just dissipates."

  I took another swig of Sevenfold and closed my eyes, reaching toward Valor in my soul-space. The concepts that formed my Seal were there, waiting, but I focused specifically on Compassion. It was impossibly complex yet elegantly simple—radiating interconnected ideas of joy and sorrow, hope and loss, all woven together in perfect balance.

  For the first time, I had a chance to truly examine my Seal's structure. What I found wasn't what I'd expected. Valor wasn't built around Courage like I'd assumed—it was anchored by Radiance. The intricate Light rune I'd glimpsed when this all began acted like a bridge between Courage and Compassion, as if those two concepts actively resisted being part of the same framework. Some instinct told me that trying to combine them without Radiance as a mediator would create something unstable and dangerous.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Threading mana through the Seal felt surprisingly natural compared to the violent process of burning it—like water flowing through channels designed specifically for this purpose. Compassion pulsed with verdant green energy, sending ripples of that color throughout my soul-space and filling me with the sensation of vibrant, growing life.

  This was it. I could work with this.

  But before I could direct the energy anywhere, Radiance seized control. Without warning, it processed the green mana and shoved it into Courage like it had its own agenda. The emerald glow flickered and twisted through a kaleidoscope of colors before settling into a blinding white light.

  The pull was immediate and intense—like threading something into a loom only to have the machine yank the material forward with unstoppable force.

  Panic crept up my spine as my breathing became labored, sweat beading on my forehead. I opened my eyes, feeling my body's mana reinforcement beginning to weaken as energy drained out of me and into my soul with no way to reverse the flow.

  "This really fucking sucks," I muttered through gritted teeth. Nothing short of a reckless mana burn had felt this dangerous—except when I did that, I felt capable of anything. This felt like something was slowly bleeding me dry.

  "You can cut the flow if it becomes too much," Richard said, hope and concern warring in his expression. "But before you do—try to loop that energy back where it came from. This is the hardest part of creating aspected mana."

  I turned my attention inward, trying to force the brilliant white energy to reverse course. The flow resisted like trying to push water uphill. My ears rang with the effort, and I could feel myself weakening by the second. Maybe I could wrap the mana around some kind of pathway? No—that was like trying to force sand through a screen.

  "Kid, you've got a literal hole in the Veil between body and soul—just use that. Way easier than trying to finesse it back the hard way

  Ted's voice rang through my mind, and I suddenly realized Winchester was solid in my physical hands.

  I could feel the path it had taken to manifest—not a direction so much as a conceptual connection. Instead of forcing the mana backward through the same channels, I pushed the aspected energy deeper, guiding it through whatever link existed between my soul and the staff.

  The sensation was indescribable.

  My eyes snapped open, certainty flooding through me. I'd done something. Looking at my pathways, I saw a tiny thread of sparkling white energy ricocheting through my body, moving too fast to control consciously. It was thin—so thin I could barely detect it among my normal mana—but I could feel its presence. The conversion rate was massive, like trying to channel a river through a pinhole and getting only a few precious drops.

  "Graceful Gods, that's not Life aspect," Richard said, his voice shifting from impressed to deeply concerned as his gaze locked onto Winchester. "What is that?"

  "What now?" I managed, my head spinning as my pathways burned from the effort. The tiny strand of energy was growing stronger, consuming more of my reserves with each passing second.

  Diana's entire demeanor had changed. Gone was her usual casual indifference, replaced by something that looked like scientific fascination mixed with morbid curiosity.

  Richard's face showed genuine alarm, as if something had gone catastrophically wrong.

  "If it was Life mana, I'd tell you to cycle it to your shoulder and force the healing," he said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "But whatever you've created... my spiritual senses aren't strong enough to identify it. I'm sorry."

  "I can sense some kind of life aspect," Diana commanded. "Do it anyway. And cut off the fucking flow before you pass out."

  With no other options, I followed her instructions. The thread actively resisted my attempts to direct it, slipping away like it had its own will. Gritting my teeth, I focused everything I had on grabbing that white energy, feeling it writhe in my pathways like something alive and angry.

  The moment I forced the thread toward my shoulder, a cool pop echoed through my bones. Faint light pulsed along my skin as the energy coiled around the injury, sinking into the damaged tissue like it knew exactly what to do. The pain vanished instantly—and then the thread shot back into my pathways, darting away as if trying to escape my control.

  I severed the mana flow to my Seal and immediately wobbled in my chair, feeling my reserves hit dangerous levels. The Emberseed against my chest pulsed with warmth, flooding me with just enough energy to stay conscious. Once my body stabilized, the necklace cooled and went dormant.

  That was convenient. And terrifying. Nothing I'd encountered—aside from mana pearls and that strange nectar—actually generated energy. This thing did. That probably made it incredibly valuable, and I wasn't comfortable with the fact that I had it purely because of Ted's bullshit.

  I sat up slowly, shaking off the exhaustion, and noticed something crucial—the tiny thread of white energy was still there, flitting through my pathways like it was waiting for orders.

  "It's still there," I said. "The aspected mana isn't dissipating. It's like it's waiting for something."

  Richard's gaze bounced between Winchester and me, his expression shifting between surprise and fear. "What the fuck is he?" he muttered.

  Diana's wicked grin returned full force. "He's my apprentice."

  That apparently told him everything he needed to know.

  Diana and I climbed the Tower stairs after being ceremoniously ejected from Richard's tavern. After witnessing what I'd just accomplished—plus two bottles of Sevenfold Spirit—he'd decided he'd had enough of Diana's chaos for one day.

  "You absolutely cheated," she accused as we walked. "I don't know how you pulled that off, but proper mana cycling isn't supposed to be that easy. It has something to do with that staff, doesn't it? And what you created wasn't aspected mana—it was something else entirely."

  "It felt like my Seal wanted to process the mana itself, not just the Compassion aspect," I explained. "Like it was acting independently."

  "Interesting. Most people can only sync with fragments of their Seal and struggle to produce even a single aspect. I suspect you refined your mana instead—which is exponentially more difficult."

  "I can move energy in and out of my soul-space," I admitted sheepishly. "Long story involving my broken mana sanctum, but I can transfer Winchester just like the earring used to. I figured the mana could use that same pathway."

  Diana raised an eyebrow. "I see." Her tone was unreadable. "I visited Arryava after last night's festivities—she explained more about the Vajra. Found some books we can study after this damned Tournament ends. Soul-spaces aren't unheard of, but they're rare. Can you store other things in there?"

  "Haven't tried yet."

  "Well, maybe experiment when your mana recovers." She held out an orange-sized mana orb. I absorbed it gratefully just as she threw open the Tower doors.

  "Welcome, Breaker Ben Crawford—Seeker!" Gary's voice boomed across the hall. Cheers erupted around us as several Hunters approached with fists raised for the traditional shoulder punches, but Diana waved them off before they could add to my injuries.

  As we reached the main desk, Gary smiled his usual knowing smile. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Breaker, but you'll need to surrender your Acolyte badge."

  My fingers found the orange pin on my lapel—something I'd worn with pride for what felt like forever but had really been a week. With genuine sadness, I unpinned it and held it out.

  "The original terms of your Acolyte status have been fulfilled," Gary said, letting silence hang in the air like a held breath.

  "Your dedication to the Hunt has been exemplary."

  Elena's voice rang from the stairs above. She descended in full formal regalia, every step carrying the weight of absolute authority.

  "Your loyalty to this city and to the Hunters has been beyond question, even in such a short time," she continued, approaching with a wooden box that looked ancient and important. She slammed it onto the counter with a sharp crack that made everyone straighten.

  The entire hall snapped to attention with military precision. Even Diana stood taller, though she couldn't hide her smirk.

  "No matter what comes next, Breaker Ben Crawford," Elena's voice carried the weight of ceremony, "it is my honor, as Head Mistress of the Monster Hunters, to recognize you as an Aspirant—the highest honor that can be bestowed upon one not of our ranks. You will be afforded all courtesies due a Monster Hunter. We eagerly await the day you join us officially."

  She opened the box and lifted a gleaming silver pin, etched with a single character that seemed to catch and hold the light.

  

  As she affixed it to my lapel, the cheers that followed were deafening. When she leaned in close, her voice dropped to a whisper meant only for me.

  "Maris has no idea what she's up against. I'm looking forward to watching you destroy her little Tournament."

  The smile threatening to crack my face felt like it might turn into something more dangerous. This world was insane and dangerous and completely fucked up—but the people fighting to protect it were incredible. Ever since Maris had arrived with her ultimatum, everyone had gone out of their way to help me succeed.

  I owed too many debts now to even consider leaving.

  "Can I give it to him now?"

  Garren stood on the opposite staircase, his grin somehow even wider than mine. In his hands was an armor case that looked like it contained something special.

  "Yes, Garren, you may give it to him," Elena said with an exasperated sigh, as if all the ceremony had just drained from the room.

  Garren strutted over and dropped the case onto the desk with a flourish, then turned to Gary with obvious anticipation.

  "Gary," he said.

  "Garren," Gary replied.

  The case snapped open, revealing armor unlike anything I'd ever seen.

  It was a complete suit of what appeared to be brass scale mail, but the moment I lifted the long overcoat, I knew appearances were deceiving. Despite its metallic appearance, it felt lighter than my previous leather armor. The scales were smooth and flexible, layered seamlessly together, with far more subtle shoulder protection than I was used to. Matching gauntlets and pants unfolded like the metal wasn't quite metal at all.

  Compared to my previous black armor, this set definitely looked fit for a Paladin.

  "Phantom Brass," Garren announced proudly. "Extremely popular among Imperial armies in the Central Lands—less common here except for Guardians, since most others prefer leather. The local merchants were happy to trade a complete set for several units of recently gained Arbortrux hide. All things considered, I'd say this armor is rightfully yours."

  I ran my fingers over the scales, amazed by how they felt almost like cloth in places. "It's incredible," I admitted, "but is it supposed to be so... squishy?"

  Diana took over the explanation. "Looks can be deceiving, darling. Phantom Brass is incredibly light and unrestricted. It doesn't support mana infusion like leather, but the scales harden on impact. Extremely effective against blunt force, moderately effective against claws or blades. Won't stop piercing attacks, but very few armors can."

  I thought back to Erik's fight with the Brine Tyrant—how easily it had punched through his heavy plate. "Thank you," I said, setting the armor back carefully. "Are there boots?"

  Elena and Diana both scoffed simultaneously, then shot each other venomous glares.

  "Darling," Diana said with exasperation, "you could ask literally anyone in this city—you don't wear shoes."