Chapter 7 - Chapter 7- Seoul

...

Ha-yoon wakes to the low rumble of Si-woo's snoring. She pokes his shoulder, barely holding back a grin. "Wake up," she whispers. She quickly shifts her tone.

"Minho's gonna be here any minute!"

Si-woo jolts, then lets out a long groan, rubbing the grit from his eyes. Even after a whole week away from the academy, I feel like an old man with arthritis from the daily toeju training. My shoulders feel like someone took a hammer to them, and not to mention my muscles every time I move.

"We're going to meet the headmasters of the royal families today personally. Ohhhh, Lady Somin… the agriculture familia has to be the best," Ha-yoon revels.

"What time even is it?" He mumbles, stretching his arms until his back pops.

"Almost dawn!" Ha-yoon yells, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Come on, we don't have long. Get dressed already!"

Si-woo grumbles but drags himself upright. His gaze lands on a neat pile of clothes waiting on the chair by the bed. Whoa, what type of fabric is this? It shimmers and shifts colors every time the light hits it, like it's breathing. He picks up the shirt and runs his thumb over it. This stuff feels softer than the finest silk I've ever touched, but weightless, almost like wearing a warm breeze.

"Those are our outfits for the council thing," Ha-yoon tells him. She was already dressed in hers, her hair in a crown braid, twirling once, so the hem flares out.

"Minho said they were special to us. Supposed to show our bond with Ondur or something."

"Must've dropped them off last night while I was out walking," Si-woo says, still staring at the clothes like they might vanish if he blinked too hard. He pulls the shirt on and feels it settle against his skin like it had been waiting for him. The pants were snug at first, but the second he moved, they loosened in all the right places. He glances over at Ha-yoon. "Pffffttt."

She grumbles at her reflection, tugging at the bodice of the dress that looked as if someone had plucked a spectrum of pink rose petals and turned them into fabric. The colors kept sliding and swirling, catching the light in little sparks of gold thread that traced tiny, impossible patterns. The skirt floated around her ankles in layers so sheer you could see the floorboards through them.

"Do I seriously have to wear this?" She mutters.

"You look beautiful," Si-woo says, and this time he doesn't even try to hide his smile.

His own tunic matched the shifting shimmer of her dress, fitted close through the chest before easing out at the waist. Silver sharp line patterns danced down the sleeves, and the pants hugged his legs like they'd been measured twice. The boots, made from some hide he couldn't even guess at, felt broken-in and butter soft, like they'd already walked a thousand miles for him.

Ha-yoon gives one last tug on her skirt and sighs. "I need my bond with Tic, Tac, and Spikey to get strong enough that they can just hang out with me all the time. This dress is pretty, but those three would make it ten times better."

Si-woo nods, a little pang hitting him in the chest.

"Same. Feels weird not having Z around right now." He thought of the little proud creature who'd chosen him, and his voice softened. "But yeah… he still needs to develop his natural instincts. I get it."

Ha-yoon's expression goes gentle. "It's kind of wild, isn't it? Both of us tied to these…"

Minho's knock pulls them both back to the present. Ha-yoon flies to the door, Si-woo following behind. She grins like she'd won the lottery. "How do I look, Minho?" She bursts out, cheeks already pink.

He inspects the two of them in their new clothes, and his eyebrows shoot up. "There are stars named after you two. Truly captivating," he says, the words warm and genuine. "I knew those would suit you."

Si-woo and Ha-yoon can't help the smiles that break across their faces.

Minho himself is dressed in sleek maroon that makes him look exactly like the fables of Ondurian warriors. His dark hair is combed back neatly, jaw sharp as ever, head held with that quiet confidence he always carried. Those midnight-blue eyes flick over them both, checking for nerves or second thoughts, the way he always does.

...

Onto Lemmy, the morning air hits cool and clean against their skin, an awakening breeze. The short flight to the new royal palace is something else entirely. They'd only caught glimpses of it before, hidden in the dark; now, with the first soft light of dawn washing over everything, it feels like they're seeing it for the first time.

The palace sits right in the heart of Seoul, glowing like it had been carved straight out of the morning itself. Towers stretch high, each one crowned with a spire that catches the sun and throws it back in little sparks of gold. It's a strange living beauty, smooth curves flowing into sharp edges, as if the building had grown there instead of being built. It doesn't just sit on the land; it feels as if it belongs to the sky.

Seoul has changed so much in just the short time we've been at the academy. Si-woo gazes below. Used to being mostly ruins and empty fields with odd creatures wandering around, now it's a full-blown city, buildings everywhere, bridges stretching out like veins to connect the different areas. And the new waterfall the fae recently built looks tiny compared to the huge river now rushing beneath them, feeding straight into the endless sea below. It's the crux of Seoul; it carries life to every corner of the land.

Ha-yoon's heart hammers as they get closer to the palace. This is really happening. She sucks in a slow breath, trying to steady herself.

Minho guides them down the wide corridors, their footsteps ringing off the polished marble like they're walking through a giant echo chamber. Soon they reach guards beside a set of massive, carved doors, and right away they can hear angry voices spilling out from the other side.

Ha-yoon grabs Si-woo's arm without thinking; he just gives her a quick, calm smile, reassuring her.

"Remember," Minho murmurs, turning to look at them both, "stay cordial and respectful. These are renowned fae, and they know you belong here just as much as they do."

He draws in a breath and walks forward. With a bow from the guards, the massive doors swing open. Inside, a plethora of fae officials in different-colored robes wave their arms around as if trying to win an argument with the air itself. Their voices crash together in one big messy roar. Then a man in a flowing maroon cloak catches sight of them. His eyes, sharp, icy blue.

"Pronu," Minho calls out, his voice a calm thread in the riot.

The fae in the maroon cloak steps forward in a blink, appearing right beside Minho. He drops smoothly to one knee and bows his head. "Yes, Headmaster Minho," his voice smooth as silk.

"This is Pronu," Minho tells them, sounding proud. "Master of the special ops division, one of the four limbs of the military familia, and my right-hand man."

Pronu rises to his feet in one graceful motion. His wild grey hair looks as if it has a mind of its own, but his eyes are razor-sharp. They lock onto Si-woo and Ha-yoon as if weighing every secret the siblings possess. A little shiver runs down both their spines, half awe, half nerves.

Si-woo stares back into those piercing eyes. Sure, all the fae headmasters seem like powerful serein users, but something about him feels… different. He has the same quiet command as Minho, yet there's this similar edge underneath, one that Si-woo would feel randomly wandering throughout Ondur.

Princess Deane walks through the throng of fae officials, her warm eyes softening their uneasiness like sunlight cutting through fog.

"Pronu speaks with his actions more often than words," she says, resting her gentle hands on Si-woo's and Ha-yoon's shoulders. "He's one of the most trusted soldiers of Yoh- I mean, Seoul."

The siblings trade a nervous glance as they're ushered into the enormous chamber. The ceiling soars high, vanishing into shadow. The walls glow with intricate fae murals, scenes of ancient battles, alliances, and internal conflicts painted in jewel-bright colors. At the far end stands a long, gleaming table ringed by tall-backed chairs, most of them occupied by the headmasters. Some gaze at Ha-yoon and Si-woo with open curiosity.

"Thank you all for coming," Deane says softly, her voice causing all chatter to fall silent. "Please, sit."

She gestures to the three empty seats beside her. The siblings move forward, the weight of everything suddenly pressing down on them like a heavy winter cloak.

Ha-yoon settles into the chair and only then notices that behind each headmaster stands a silent fae attendant. The one behind Princess Deane must be Lady Vestophone,her sharp yellow eyes and blonde hair make her look like she was born from wisdom itself. Ha-yoon's eyes lock onto Lady Somin, and they exchange warm smiles.

"I reckon the whiteblood is serving you well,"

"WHO," Si-woo stops partway, searching for where the voice came from.

"What did you say?" Ha-yoon asks, a look of concern crossing her face.

"You didn't hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Never mind," Si-woo mutters, scanning the audience. Who was that…? Was it him? An unfamiliar man sits at the furthest part of the table, shrewd black pupils, amethyst hair flowing down his shoulders, and simple clothes that somehow make him look even more imposing. He watches everything without blinking.

No, I don't think so… Si-woo is taken aback. Sitting next to the mysterious man, his cloaked sprit attendant slightly apart from the rest, looms a higher sprit. His sleek black fur beneath his navy blue robe catches the low light like polished obsidian. His piercing green eyes sweep over the room with calm, unmistakable intelligence. Powerful muscles shift beneath his coat, and his claws look short but sharp enough to rend stone. When he leans forward, the tension in the air eases just a fraction; there's a strange reassurance in his measured expression.

Minho follows up right after Princess Deane. "Allow me to introduce Quorge and Mutstushiro to those who don't know them. Quorge speaks for the sprits who dwell in the Tebaek kingdom, deep in the mountains and woods of Yohen and Seoul. His presence here is crucial; he will continue to aid us in understanding and subjugating the anomalies spreading throughout our lands."

Minho gestures to the purple-haired fae. "And here is Mutstushiro, Head of the biotechnology branch and a representative of the alchemy branch in the knowledge familia. A renowned scholar and an acquaintance of mine."

"First and foremost," Quorge stands, scooting back his chair and adjusting his massive frame toward Si-woo and Ha-yoon before bowing lowly. His attendant follows suit. "I, Quorge, president of Tebaek interrelations and captain of the subjugation department, have allowed the true inheritors of this land's lives to be threatened by my lack of diligence. I have been sent by my head elders to offer their apologies and assistance in any way possible to atone for our grave sins."

The room falls silent. Some heads nod in respect, while other faces remain unreadable. This sprit is easily over two and a half meters tall. Si-woo stares contemplatively. He's huge and powerful, but here he is, bowing low. He glances to his right at Ha-yoon, whose gaze has softened, more compassionate than he's ever seen.

"Thank you," Si-woo starts. "I won't deny it was terrifying what we went through, but the Lord has taught me to forgive. I won't hold it against you anymore."

"Me neither," Ha-yoon says, a reassuring smile forming on her face.

"We sprits have nothing but respect and honor for you two, especially you, Si-woo, who is now the owner of our once greatest treasure," Quorge says, straightening up with a gracious smile beneath his snout.

"You mean Z?" Si-woo questions. "You were the owners before me?"

"Please come to the Tebaek kingdom, or as the fae call it, the sprit kingdom, anytime. When you meet my nephew, he will be your guide and will give you more insight about the sprits' connection to the whiteblood."

"Oh, is your nephew the sprit I heard about in the intermediate academy?" Ha-yoon asks, curiosity brightening her voice.

"He is quite popular these days, isn't he, Isah?" The sprit behind him nods in agreement. "But yes, Ha-yoon. That's the one. Under contract, he was allowed to attend Ondur's academic schools until the fifth echelon. Then, if nothing goes awry, there will be an influx of our young higher sprits in your academies."

Ha-yoon's eyes widen. "Whoaaa, Si-woo, can you imagine?"

Si-woo nods. "It definitely would be convenient, since there are fewer fae compared to the higher sprits."

"Enough with the pleasantries," Lord Haneul, head of the Economy family, cuts in sharply. "Children? You dragged actual children into a council meeting?" he scoffs, his voice sharp as a cracking whip.

Ha-yoon's cheeks burn. She can feel every eye in the room suddenly fixed on her and Si-woo.

"These aren't 'children' in the way you mean," Lady Somin cuts in immediately, her tone steady and fierce. "They may be the last of the human bloodline, the true heirs. They wouldn't be here at all if the king himself hadn't commanded it."

The fae exchange uneasy glances. Quorge sits down, his deep green gaze shifting to the siblings, carrying a quiet warmth that loosens the knot in their stomachs a bit.

"Lord Haneul, these two have already faced more than most of us would dare. They carry our future on their shoulders. I, for one, believe they belong here," Lady Luna says, leaning forward. Her ethereal starlight eyes and graceful, long dark hair cascade like midnight water.

Haneul's eyes narrow, but he holds his tongue, displeasure written plainly across his face. Ha-yoon shoots Lady Luna a grateful look.

"Humility and understanding will serve us better than pride in times like these," Quorge's low, resonant voice rolls across the table like distant thunder. "These young ones bring gifts we would be fools to ignore, especially now, with the balance so fragile."

"Lady Luna," Haneul couldn't resist, "aren't you the same one who thought it wise to wander alone into the dungeons, blind to their dangers?"

Luna smiles, serene and unbothered. "My 'blind wandering' brought us something we desperately needed." She lifts a small, glowing pill between her fingers. "Observe."

She tosses it lightly into the air. The pill dissolves mid-toss into a glittering shower of sparkling dust. The crystal lights in the ceiling pulse in answer, and a warm surge of serein energy ripples through the room.

"Thanks to that little adventure," Luna continues, "we now have medicinal pills that can dramatically accelerate serein cultivation, an enormous leap for the alchemy division of the knowledge familia."

The words linger, heavy with implication. Ha-yoon glances sideways at Si-woo. His jaw is tight, eyes locked on the council members.

"Impressive as your discovery is," Haneul replies, voice measured but edged, "it doesn't erase the fact that you could have been harmed. Those dungeons are crawling with unknown, cursed creatures. It was reckless."

Quorge shifts his massive frame, the shadow of his body falling across the table. "Every great reward hides behind risk; that is how we grow stronger."

"Not in the ruins," Haneul insists.

Before the argument could spiral further, the grand doors swing open with a deep, echoing boom. Every head turns. King Morey has arrived.

The entire room rises as one, heads bowing in perfect unison.

"The King has arrived," Princess Deane announces.

King Morey strides in, two of his royal guards taking positions on opposing sides of the room. Immense power radiates from him as he makes his way to the southern head of the table. The sides of his silver hair are tied back, a few strands escaping to frame his stern, captivating face. His eyes sweep the room, meeting everyone's gaze. As he reaches the throne-like chair, he pauses, his hand resting on the intricate carving adorning the back.

"Thank you for your attendance," his voice deep and resonant, filling the chamber. "Let us proceed with the matters at hand." He sits, and the room follows suit. Ha-yoon feels the weight of his gaze as he observes them, his expression unreadable.

"We gather here today," the king begins, "to discuss concerns and specific topics, including but not limited to the fate of the dungeons, ruins, and towers of Seoul, and the implications of the outside world's inhabitants destroying themselves for an extended period of time."

He leans forward, hands steepled before him. "The orichalcum we safeguard, and the many treasure ruins, are vital to the balance of this world. Their discovery would mean chaos, as the greed of the mainland's would surely lead to war."

The room murmurs in agreement, the fae nodding their heads in unison.

"We also stand at a crossroads, my fellow fae," Lady Somin says, her eyes as sharp as a bed of emeralds reflecting sunlight. "These young humans are not just a curiosity, but a beacon of hope. Their protection and growth is vital to our queen's prophetic visions. And let us not forget the abundant foreign energies we've come in contact with."

"Foreign energies?" Si-woo finally asks, his voice echoing in the chamber.

Princess Deane turns to them, her ocean eyes brimming with wisdom. "As you both know, serein (mana) is the metaphysical energy of our world, with divinity being more of a linkage relationship, and rare spatial creatures like the tetharite bearing the mark of God and utilizing aether. It gives us our abilities, forms the foundation of martial arts, connects us to the land, and fuels the prophetesses' visions. But ever since the conjunction singularity, your world has become the cauldron for divinity, serein, aether, aura, and mana. Divinity, serein, mana, and aether were already known to our world, but now there seems to be an extension with aura being the additional one added."

Quorge's gaze intensifies as he leans in slightly. "Understanding those foreign energies and extensions is crucial, especially to my species. The mana we manipulate is more versatile and diverse than it's ever been. The universal energies are linked with the fate of our realms."

Deane continues, "With Mutstushiro heading our biomechanical branch and representing our alchemy branch, I see it fit for Quorge to collaborate with him in his research. Mutstushiro also suggests you two could hasten our development."

"To be specific," Mutstushiro addresses them, his voice smooth and alluring, "you, Si-woo. I heard you haven't awakened, and yet your serein has a color. How exemplary."

Si-woo nods slowly, absorbing the fae's words carefully.

"I believe," Mutstushiro says, staring directly into Si-woo's eyes, "it's due to a human's dantian fetal development. Whereas the soul comes first for us fae, then flesh to stationary the seed of the dantian core. My hypothesis is that the human soul may come first, then directly produces the seed of the dantian core and develops it, but the flesh is needed to station the seed and develop the core. Where would one put the seed without a body to cultivate it?"

"I'm… I'm not sure," Si-woo lets out.

Mutstushiro smiles ear to ear. "I too pondered that, though a consensus led me to believe it lies in your blood, Si-woo."

"You want his blood?" Ha-yoon hastily interjects.

"This is why you're no good with children, Mutstushiro," Lady Luna breathes, her indifferent gaze steering away from him. "What he means, dear, is that the serein cells that run through your meridian tree and then into your bloodstream may provide assistance to his 'golem' project."

"YES," Mutstushiro follows eagerly, "I suspect your dantian,produced by your soul, holds serein cells of a grade that bypasses the need of a terrestrial body."

"Golems? Like robots?" Ha-yoon asks.

Quorge interjects, "Indeed, put in earthly terms. Though I'm sure your people would call it artificial intelligence."

"You were not brought here for blood draws," Princess Deane declares. "Just know you will have the choice to do so afterwards. It's completely up to you."

"Sounds like a load of barnacles," Ha-yoon whispers to Si-woo.

Lady Somin leans back in her chair, her eyes thoughtful. "On the topic of the foreign energies, to harness them we would need to understand them, to communicate with the people of the worlds from whence they came. But as we know, they are not in any condition to do so."

Lord Haneul takes a deep breath. "We must first acknowledge that our world is but one in a vast tapestry of dimensions, each woven with threads unseen by most. The Lord has truly blessed us with a plentiful land, without any hindrances."

King Morey nods gravely. "The anomalies of our world, towers, dungeons, and gate portals, are all interconnected in ways we are just beginning to understand. They are not only relics of the past but may contain living entities, each with its own purpose and secrets." He pauses, letting his words resonate. "All must be cautious. If we wish to harvest what we have, we must first understand their nature."

Princess Deane sets a green orb in the middle of the table. Pictures of the anomalies project outward as she releases it. "Gate portals, as we've seen, act as bridges between our realm and others, offering great chances of communication," she explains as the images shift. "Dungeons are more selective spatial portals. They require specific conditions to be met before you're able to close them, and often the tasks within are as perilous as they are vital. Through the queen's divinity, we theorize that completing these will aid in eradicating the discord and evil that infects other realms."

"But what of the monsters?" Si-woo asks, his eyes reflecting the concern he feels. "The ones outside of the town?"

Princess Deane nods solemnly. "The gate portals and dungeons are not just a source of power, but also a potential breeding ground for chaos. Without completion, or a great delay, these dungeon entities will escape and scourge all surrounding lands. The beasts and creatures that dwell within them are drawn to the accumulation of energies. Since most of the anomalies are in the sprits' territory, they have and will continue to lead if any outbreaks occur."

Quorge's low voice carries throughout the room. "The previous outbreaks have been subjugated with the help of His Majesty, and both parties have been able to obtain substantial treasure and artifacts."

Ha-yoon squirms in her seat. "Oooo, what type of artifacts? Like the 'queen's hourglass'?"

"Unfortunately no," Lady Somin answers. "The 'queen's hourglass' soul weapon is in a class of its own, dear. But if you observe here," she points at a thin, royal brown choker around her neck, "this mobility-enhancing artifact came from the ruins outside of this town."

Ha-yoon's eyes light up with greed. "Oh yeah, I'm gonna get me some too."

Si-woo's eyes narrow as he thinks about the implications. "So there's clearly a difference between each anomaly, especially the ruins. Hmmm… What kind of tasks do these dungeons require?"

Lady Somin's expression grows contemplative. "The trials of the dungeons are as varied as the stars in the night sky. Some may demand great feats of strength or intelligence, while others may require a pure heart or a deep connection to a particular energy itself. Ruins are the only known anomaly that doesn't pose a foreign threat directly. Although traps, tricks, and puzzles are abundant in some, none of them are life-threatening. But towers," she stops, the silence seeping in.

"Towers are a true test of strength. A checkpoint that should be used accordingly when advancing in dungeon difficulties. Floors upon floors of arduous combat, trickery, and mental challenges that an inexperienced one should not go at alone."

Lady Luna, whose eyes had been lingering on the siblings, speaks up with a wistful smile. "If only we had four prophetesses to perform the centurial sacrament," she says, her voice trailing off into a whisper. "Their combined visions could illuminate the path ahead for our realm, guide us through the shadows of uncertainty."

"Centurial sacrament? Four prophetesses?" Ha-yoon questions, her curiosity piqued.

Lord Haneul shoots Lady Luna a sharp glance, his expression a silent reprimand. "There is no need to trouble the children with ancient traditions that we've not been able to practice for millenniums."

But Lady Luna remains steadfast. "It is essential that they understand the full extent of our heritage and the potential it holds," she insists. "While rare, the coexistence of four prophetesses is possible. Tens of thousands of years ago, Ondur was blessed with four-millennium prophetesses over time. Their collective visions guided us through the darkest of times, and it is not beyond the realm of possibility that we may see such a time again."

"Lady Luna is right. It would truly be a blessing to have four prophetesses," Princess Deane says, grabbing the green orb from the table. "Though sweet to the ears, it would mean challenging times are approaching if it were to be."

Minho's eyes become serious upon speaking. "In the early times of Yohen, the beasts and creatures were truly unbearable, leaving ruin and rot everywhere, contaminating the pure."

Quorge nods his head in agreement. "The Tebaek kingdom is close and connected to Ondur, now Seoul, for this exact reason."

Whoa, there's so much to the fae species. Si-woo ponders. They must be able to do the sacrament through divinity then. I need to do more research on it.

Lord Haneul fixes his gaze on Mutstushiro, sitting in his prune, colored garb with sharp, cunning eyes. "Your Highness, if I may ask, I understand the children, but why is Mutstushiro here? He can't possibly be here for the sole reason of collaboration with Quorge on his research."

"I've also been curious," Minho adds.

King Morey briefly sighs. "We needed a method to organize and systematize the anomalies of this realm. Our civilization is undergoing significant industrial and territorial change. It would have proven far more difficult to handle if we continued as we have been doing. Allow me to introduce Mutstushiro as headmaster and cofounder of the newly established royal familia, the 'Rankers.'"

"It's truly an honor, Your Highness," Quorge replies, bowing his head.

A slight smile forms on Minho's face as Mutstushiro leans back in his chair, smiling ear to ear. "I am here because, unlike some of you," he says, casting sideways glances at Lord Haneul and Minho, "I see opportunity in chaos, not just a burden. After Minho killed that lesser sprit to defend these young ones, our relationship with the sprit kingdom has lessened. But you see, I've made it my business to understand the gate portals and dungeons." His eyes flick from fae to fae, as if daring anyone to challenge him. "Through slow progression of our relationship, the sprits and I know how to navigate them, how to survive them, and most importantly, how to exploit them for their true worth." His voice is smooth, almost hypnotic. Ha-yoon finds herself leaning forward, eager to hear more.

Oh friend, although his personality is quite difficult to tolerate, Minho thought, Mutstushiro is indeed a prodigy, known across Ondur for his unparalleled knowledge and abilities. He is also well informed in all five royal familia's. Yet his reputation is as much a double-edged sword as his words, sharp and dangerous even when slick…

Mutstushiro continues, his voice oiled with self-importance. "Your Highness, we've developed a system of ranking these anomalies based on the force of the electromagnetic waves charging the emanating particles, giving them color. The order is green, blue, orange, red, purple, from least difficulty to greatest. The stronger the magnetic force indicates higher difficulty, but also a higher chance of potential rewards."

"By doing so, we can train our fae to face these challenges methodically, ensuring that only the most capable venture forth."

King Morey nods, his eyes gleaming with interest. "This is exactly what we need," he says, his gaze sweeping the room. "We will adopt the Ranker system immediately. Each family will work closely with the Rankers to train students of fifth echelon and above in the art of anomaly exploration and serein utilization."

Mutstushiro stands. "Thank you for your trust, Your Highness. Rest assured, I will not disappoint. The Rankers will be the vanguard of Seoul, ensuring that our people are prepared for the trials that lie ahead."

"The vanguard?" Minho murmurs, clearly offended.

Mutstushiro ignores him. "To facilitate this, I propose we divide into three main branches: Adventurers, Excavationists, and Voyagers. Each branch will specialize in a different aspect of anomaly exploration with intermittent connections throughout." Raw joy emphasizes his voice as he continues. "The Adventurers will be the ones to brave the dungeons and gate portals on strict missions, seeking out the most treasures without much inconvenience. The Excavationists will study, gather, and preserve the artifacts and materials we find for our civilization, unlocking the future. And the Voyagers," his eyes glint, "will chart the unexplored lands stealthily, seeking new passageways, secret routes, and more for the adventurers."

The fae grow silent, visualizing the system. The concept of a structured approach to exploring the dangers and riches of their newfound home is both thrilling and intimidating.

"So we must be Rankers to go into the anomalies," Ha-yoon states. "How do we become one then?"

Quorge turns to Si-woo and Ha-yoon, his gaze piercing. "To become a Ranker," his low voice carries through the room, "you must first pass our test. The Ranker's test will be divided into three separate sections according to their branches. They will be designed to assess your limits, challenge your skills, and demand your absolute dedication to the craft."

"Don't fret, for those who pass will be granted a Ranker's card. With this card, you can access the branch you tested in according to your results. Together, we shall uncover the secrets of the anomalies and harness their power for the greater good of Seoul."

Mutstushiro takes a deep breath, his chest puffing out as he addresses the room. "Thank you for your attention, my esteemed colleagues," he says, his voice oozing confidence. "With your support and the might of the Rankers, we will ensure that the future of our people is one of prosperity and enlightenment."

Lord Haneul leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Mutstushiro. "Your Highness," he says, his voice measured and calm, "I must admit, despite my… personal feelings towards Mutstushiro's tone, with Quorge, his proposal holds merit. This structured approach to anomaly exploration could indeed be beneficial." His words are like a cool breeze in the stifling tension of the room.

Princess Deane nods, her expression hopeful. "I see real promise in the Ranker system," she says, locking eyes with Lady Somin. "If we teach our people to treat those gate portals with care, we might finally find the answers we're searching for."

"Agreed," Lady Somin studies the siblings for a long moment, her face thoughtful. "The Rankers could become our guardians, subduing internal threats while advancing our lifestyles. I see the military familia gaining a powerful new edge."

Minho crosses his arms, his gaze never leaving Mutstushiro. "There's potential," he says. "The preparations must be thorough, nearly unforgiving. Gate portals and dungeons don't forgive mistakes."

King Morey looks at Si-woo and Ha-yoon, his voice steady. "Your work under Minho has been impressive, but this is something else entirely. It demands insight and skill you haven't needed before."

The siblings glance at each other. No words are necessary.

"Very well," King Morey declares, rising from his chair. "Meeting's over. You all have a lot to think about, and even more to prepare for. The Ranker system will be implemented today. I expect every family to cooperate with one another, no exceptions. This is the dawn of the Golden Age."

Minho and Princess Deane lead Si-woo and Ha-yoon out of the grand chamber as the others disperse. Si-woo takes one last look back and catches Mutstushiro watching them with that same lifeless, mocking smile. A chill slides down his spine.

"What do you think?" Ha-yoon whispers, searching his face. "Do you think we can become Rankers?"

Si-woo keeps his eyes on Mutstushiro's retreating back. "I'm not sure," he mutters, excitement and doubt twisting together in his chest. "It's something to consider. What about you? Do you still want to be solely part of the agricultural familia?"

While Princess Deane and Minho fall into a quiet conversation, Ha-yoon answers, "I'm not sure either, but what if I can find more bonds in these anomalies? Wouldn't that be sooo cool?"

Si-woo raises his eyebrow. "More? Don't you have enough already?"

"Mmm, I just feel like I can have way more, ya know?"

"No." Si-woo responds, deflecting her absurdity.

Minho's voice cuts through the hallway. "Don't delay! You two still have training later. Keep pace."

The siblings nod, minds still spinning, and step out into the cool evening air. The faint scent of grass and the garden's wildflowers wraps around them like a welcome hug after the stuffy council chamber.

In the courtyard, Lemmy lies curled up, scales catching the last of the daylight. Before they reach her, a huge figure steps out from the shadows by the palace gates,Quorge.

Tall, with sleek black fur and corded muscle, green eyes sharp enough to cut glass. His cloaked assistant follows close behind.

"Ah, there you are," Quorge rumbles, voice deep as distant thunder. He gives Minho a respectful nod first. "Minho, head of the military familia. It's always good to see you. Your guidance will be needed with me and Mutstushiro more than ever."

Minho returns the nod, serious but grateful. "Likewise. Your wisdom is always welcome."

Quorge turns to Princess Deane, his gaze softening with warmth. "Princess, your light is a guide for many. May it shine on all of us."

Deane smiles gently. "And may the Lord bless you and the sprit kingdom prosper alongside us."

Then he looks at the siblings, and his massive frame seems to relax just a fraction. "Si-woo. Ha-yoon. Your journey is only beginning, but I already sense the strength in you. I hope my apprentice gets to be alongside you soon."

Ha-yoon's eyes light up. "If he's anything like you, I can't wait to see him too."

Quorge faces Minho and Princess Deane. "I was also sent here by Mutstushiro to ask if Si-woo wanted to donate some of his blood." He waves his hand and his assistant hands Minho a clear tube with a narrow end covered by a cap.

"Why didn't he come here himself?" Minho asks, taking the object.

"I wondered why as well, but he mentioned he had duties to attend to and would rather not be around a repulsive environment."

Si-woo steps forward, jaw set, gazing at the object in Minho's hands. Princess Deane puts a hand on his head. "There's no need to think it over if you don't want to do it."

Si-woo looks into Princess Deane's eyes, then decides. "I don't mind. I can understand why Mutstushiro is fixated on his work. Robots, I mean golems, would bring an absurd amount of convenience."

Minho takes the cap off, revealing a small syringe. "Give me your index finger."

With a nod, Minho pricks his finger and watches as the tube fills partway.

"This should be enough," Minho says, putting the cap back on. "As cohead of the Rankers familia, I thank you for your understanding and bravery. I'll make sure he makes use of this."

"Yeah, yeah," Ha-yoon intrudes, "just don't go asking for more… OR MINE CAUSE I AIN'T DOING IT."

Quorge smiles, and the others smirk. "Of course, my lady," he says with a bow.

With a final nod, Quorge and his assistant retreat beyond the gates.

As they approach Lemmy, Princess Deane pulls them both into a tight hug. "Remember, you have something invaluable," she whispers, warm and motherly. "The purity of your hearts and your bond with your spirits. Trust it." She lets go slowly, her words lingering like a blessing.

Minho offers one of his rare, crooked smiles. "See you later, Princess."

He swings up onto Lemmy's back, helping the siblings on afterward. The wyvern's scales are warm and comfortable beneath them. With a powerful leap, they are airborne, wind rushing past as Seoul spreads out below them like a living map.

"Minho!" Si-woo shouts behind him over the roar of the wind. "Who exactly is Mutstushiro?"

Minho's face softens. "A prodigy. A once well, known friend," he calls back. "Brilliant with serein, encyclopedic knowledge, maybe the best all-rounder we have. But his ambitions… He's changed. One day he started having headaches and nightmares. It's understandable, considering what he's been through. It can be difficult to deal with him because of it."

The siblings trade an uneasy glance as Lemmy banks toward home.

Minho glances at them, his face hard to read against the rushing wind. "Just focus on your training. I'll deal with any… complications."

His eyes flick toward the distant horizon for a moment before he looks forward again.

Lemmy finally touches down in the front yard of their house. The siblings slide off his back.

"I'll be back at the usual time," the wyvern gives a low rumble, then launches back into the sky, his dark shape quickly vanishing against the bright afternoon.

"Let's go inside," Si-woo says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. "I'll make something to eat."

Their house feels wonderfully small and ordinary after the palace, cozy wooden beams, soft rugs, and the familiar smell of home that wraps around them the second they step through the door. They kick off their shoes and pad inside.

Si-woo changes into his favorite old t-shirt and loose pants, the worn fabric a small comfort. While he moves around the kitchen putting together sandwiches with Ondurian bread, cured meats, and sharp cheese, Ha-yoon changes into soft training pants and a light tunic. She watches him quietly from the doorway. When he catches her eye, he forces a smile. "We've got this," he tells her, sliding a plate across the table. "Together, remember?"

They eat in relative silence until Ha-yoon finally speaks. "What do you think the Ranker test is actually going to be like?"

"Brutal, probably," Si-woo answers after swallowing a bite. He stares out the window toward the horizon. "But we've handled worse. We'll figure it out."

"I never said I wanted to become one," Ha-yoon murmurs, pushing her half-eaten sandwich away. "I was just… wondering."

Si-woo doesn't believe her, but he lets it slide. He knows her too well. Since they'd planted their parents' saplings in the garden, she'd grown quieter during visits. Maybe it feels like she's going through it all again… Sometimes I know she wishes to go back to their old life and leave all of this behind. But what's the point in worrying over things we can't change?

He shakes the thought away. She's my sister. We're in this together. We're all we have.

...

Later that evening, they follow Minho through the royal training grounds. Golden sunlight stretches long shadows across the grass, and the distant sounds of clashing weapons and laughter drift on the breeze.

Minho leads them to a quiet, open section ringed by flowering trees and a few practicing guards. He stops, hands clasped behind his back, and pulls something from inside his coat, a small black device with a glossy screen and silver buttons.

"Human technology," he muses, turning it over with clear fascination. "I managed to repair it using my known knowledge, but I still can't figure out its purpose."

Ha-yoon's eyes light up. "That's a camera!"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "A what?"

"It takes pictures," she explains, stepping closer. "You guys have similar devices; we just call them cameras." She gently takes the device from him and shows him how to hold it, pointing out the lens and shutter button. "See? You look through here, press this, and… click."

Minho leans in, genuinely intrigued. "Fascinating."

"Let's take one," Si-woo suggests, grinning.

Ha-yoon positions them all together with the palace rising elegantly in the background and soldiers training on platforms surrounded by colorful plants. She holds the camera out for a selfie. "Say Yoani cakes!"

"Yoani cakes!" Si-woo yells.

"Huh?" Minho says, confused, and the shutter clicks with a soft flash.

"Bwhahaha!" Ha-yoon bursts out laughing, handing it back to Minho with a shy smile. "Look at your face. We're keeping this FOREVER."

Si-woo also bursts out laughing while looking at the picture. Minho studies the device for a long moment, then smirks solemnly. "Thank you. I'll treasure it."

He slips it back into his coat. "Now… let's begin."

He walks them to the center of the clear training platform.

"Ha-yoon. Call your bonds."

She takes a steadying breath, closes her eyes, and reaches out with her mind. A low rumble shakes the ground, and black particles slowly materialize a few feet in front of her. Two magnificent spade wolves come running, sleek, midnight-furred, eyes glowing with fiery intelligence.

Minho watches closely. "Good. For the past week we've been drilling a non-serein formation: Eternal Eye, while meditating, strengthening the link so you can see through their eyes. Can you do it yet?"

Ha-yoon focuses again, sinking into the connection. Warmth spreads through her chest. When she opens her eyes, the world has doubled. She can see herself standing there from two new angles, the wolves' sharp vision layered over her own.

Minho's expression stays neutral, but inside he's stunned. Monstrous talent. Records state at least six months is needed to reach this point, and that's if you're a genius. These two… I could train them forever.

Without warning, he flicks a small, hard training ball straight at her face.

It smacks her square on the nose.

"Ow!" Ha-yoon yelps, staggering back. The wolves growl instantly, hackles raised, but she calms them with a quick mental nudge.

She rubs her stinging nose and glares at him. "What the heck was that for?!"

Minho's smile tilts sideways, a little wry, as he scoops another ball from the sack at his hip. "Your Eternal Eye takes up the majority of your focus just to stay active," he says, tossing the second one. This time Ha-yoon snatches it out of the air, eyes still locked on the spade wolves. She squeezes the ball tighter and gives him a firm nod.

"I'll practice."

"Good."

Minho jerks his chin toward the edge of the platform. "Now I want you to meet someone."

A fae guard steps off the next platform-cropped black hair, sharp black eyes, posture straight as a spear as his maroon garment flows behind him. He looks the siblings over once, slow and careful. Si-woo feels a quick flicker of unease under that stare.

"This is Sergeant Ren," Minho says. "Fifth, degree toeju martial artist. He's going to be your training partner from here on out, Ha-yoon."

Ren moves forward with the smooth, liquid grace of someone who'd spent years turning his body into a weapon. He offers a short, respectful bow. "It's an honor to meet the bonded of the spade wolves."

Ha-yoon returns the nod, gaze steady. "Why do I need a partner, and not Si-woo?" she asks, a hint of doubt threading through her voice.

"Because you have to learn how to fight with your bonds without losing the formation, or your head. Sergeant Ren here is one of the most disciplined in that department. Additionally, you and Si-woo both need one-on-one work for your own body statures temporarily."

Ren straightens, eyes never leaving Ha-yoon. "I'll push you," he says, voice low and solid as iron. "We'll find out exactly how deep that bond of yours really runs."

Minho clears his throat and motions for Si-woo to follow him farther down the platform. "Your turn, kid."

Si-woo's stomach flips with nerves and excitement as they walk. Minho keeps his voice low. "Your training's going to be different. Ha-yoon's path is cloudy, only distinguishable by her. Yours is clear and as pure as white fire. A path that leaves no room for doubt. An all-or-nothing lens."

He stops, eyes intense. "Let's start with the deific eye of the storm formation. Show me what you've got."

Si-woo draws a slow breath, pulls Eternity free, and clamps the white pommel between his teeth to help him focus. The serein inside him answers instantly, swirling like a gathering storm. He pushes it outward until a translucent, meter-wide dome shimmers around him, three hundred and sixty degrees, calm on the surface but humming with raw power.

Minho folds his arms, watching. "Hm. Now hold steady. Endurance and consistency is what makes a good warrior."

He flicks a small dagger. It spins toward Si-woo in a lazy, unpredictable arc.

Si-woo's focus doesn't waver. The forcefield pulses once; his hand shoots out and snatches the blade from the air before it can even think about touching him.

Minho's mouth twitches, just the ghost of a smile.

"Now focus!"

A sudden barrage of projectiles flies at him, daggers, stars, weighted balls, each one moving at a different speed and angle.

Si-woo's heart slams against his ribs, but the dome around him becomes more reactive, turning almost opaque as the serein surges.

Every object is a problem I need to solve in a heartbeat. He deflects the first with a twist of the kunai in his mouth, catches the second on his fingertips, slaps the third aside with a burst of kinetic force from his palm. The fourth and fifth he knocks away using the dagger and kunai in fluid motion.

Each successful block makes the dome feel more like an extension of his own skin as he gains confidence. The serein sings through him in perfect time with his pulse. The world outside the forcefield is a blur of motion, but within it, everything is crystal clear.

Minho's voice rolls out, low and approving. "A shield's only as strong as the warrior behind it."

Then he moves.

He comes in lightning, fast, low, fists aiming straight for the tiny flaws he'd already spotted in the boy's defense.

Si-woo's jaw tightens on Eternity. The air inside the dome grows heavy, charged, electric. He can feel every footfall, every shift in the wind, every change in pressure. His senses are heightened; every detail a potential clue to his master's next move. He grins wide, ear to ear.

"Bring it."

As the first punch goes through, serein coalesces around Minho's arm. The impact is greater than Si-woo expected. His mind races, calculating the speed and power of the attack, adjusting the field's density and the way it absorbs and disperses the energy.

With a surge, Si-woo's own serein becomes more turbulent, swirling as his mind moves at the speed of light. Every thought links to a command to defend against the incoming onslaught.

At the last moment, Si-woo twists his body, grabs Minho's arm, and throws him out of the perimeter of the circle.

Minho's face remains still as his feet skid along the platform. The force of that throw was unexpected. I've got to create a name for these two monster siblings. How did their species ever get close to extinction if they were like this?

"Very good. You've made progress, Si-woo," Minho sighs. "Now," his grin turning mischievous, "let's see if you can remain consistent until sundown." With that, he summons a swarm of serein, infused short weapons that shoot toward Si-woo.

...

As the sun sinks below the horizon, painting everything in a warm, fiery orange glow, Minho finally calls out, "Training's over!"

Si-woo's legs give out instantly. He drops hard onto the cool platform, chest heaving like he'd just sprinted for miles. Sweat and thin streaks of blood soak through his clothes, and every muscle in his body burns as if they had been set ablaze.

Minho walks over with a satisfied look on his face. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sends an SBD near Si-woo, gently lifting him back to his feet. His gaze sweeps across the platform until it lands on Ha-yoon. She is sitting up, breathing hard, her two spade wolves sprawled beside her, tongues out and sides heaving. Their fur is caked with dirt and just as rugged as she looks.

He walks over, pulling Si-woo along.

"Sergeant Ren," Minho calls, "how'd she do?"

Ren keeps the same stone-faced expression and gives a small nod. "Her progress is… notable," he says, glancing over at Ha-yoon. The wolves were nuzzling weakly against her.

"The bond with her wolves is strong, and her control over the body formation is getting better."

Minho nods, looking thoughtful. He dismisses Ren with a gesture, then turns back to the siblings, a little spark of pride in his eyes. He pulls a small leather pouch from inside his robe and kneels down to tie it securely around Si-woo's wrist.

"These are fourth, degree cultivation pills. You're both still low in serein mastery, but thanks to the latest discovery from the Knowledge familia's alchemists, these should encourage your growth." Not that either of you really needs the help…

"Take one every night before bed. Meditate afterward and cycle the energy through your meridian tree. The results will be immediate."

Ha-yoon, still catching her breath, sits up straighter. "The pills are ranked similarly to the toeju degrees? And… I've been wondering, what degree of toeju are the other five headmasters?"

"The pills are categorized one through six by their efficiency. One being the apex." Minho bends down to rub the spade wolves' bellies. "For the other headmasters… all of them are third, degree toeju masters… except for Mutstushiro." The moment the name leaves his lips, the whole training ground seems to go still.

"Mutstushiro," Minho continues, "is as gifted a combatant as he is a scholar. A second, degree serein master. His skills are almost unmatched. He's one of the oldest and most intelligent of us all. His understanding of serein runs deeper than anyone I know. The only one he actually fears is the king himself… a first, degree serein master."

Si-woo's eyes widen. I always thought Minho, being a third degree, was basically unstoppable. Now he's saying there are people, a couple of them, who stand above him? Unreal.

"Don't fret," Minho says, waving the heavy topic away. "You two have a long road ahead before you should be thinking about the other end of the spectrum. For now, be attentive with what's in your hands. The alchemic pills will help, but they're not an easy way out. Hard work, discipline, and diligence are what will hone and produce your utmost potential."

He claps his hands together. "Come on. Let me take you home."

...

After a solid week of brutal training mixed with needed rest, the siblings step back into the academy's halls. The interior looks different now, but the layout of corridors and classrooms is the same. The air is filled with energy, students laughing, arguing, rushing between classes, the whole building alive with that special kind of excitement.

"I think it's this way," Si-woo says confidently, turning a corner. He'd spent hours memorizing the new map Minho had given them, eager to show off.

Ha-yoon grabs the back of his shirt and tugs him the other direction. "It's actually over here," she says, sounding a little disappointed in him. "We're not going to the library, dummy."

She leads them straight to their homeroom. The second they walk in, heads turn. Whispers ripple through the room, their names floating around like everyone had been waiting for them to show up.

Mai looks up from her desk and breaks into a warm smile, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She motions them to the saved seats beside her.

"So, Ha-yoon," she asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity, "how does it feel being in the same class as your big brother?"

Ha-yoon lets out a soft laugh as she drops into the chair beside her. "It's… different," she admits, glancing at Si-woo, who was busy staring at the grasslands out the window. "But in a good way."

Just as Mai opens her mouth to talk to Si-woo, the classroom door creaks open and swings wide. Chatter hushes as Minho walks through the doorway. Stepping inside, his boots echo softly against the wooden floor. He scans the room with those sharp midnight eyes that appear to miss nothing.

"I see you're all settling in fine," his voice rolls through the classroom full of authority. "And accurately accommodating to the new layout of our homeland. It's a big change for everyone." His gaze drifts across the rows of desks, lingering just a second longer on Si-woo and Ha-yoon. The corner of his mouth twitches, almost a smile, before it vanishes again.

"Your studies, your training, everything you're doing right now as a second, echelon greenie matters. Seoul's going to need guardians, adventurers, scientists, brave men and women who are ready. That's you. All of you."

The students shuffle into their seats, notebooks rustling, chairs scraping. Sunlight pours through the tall windows, warm and golden, catching dust motes in the air and lighting up faces that are equal parts excited and nervous. Minho plants himself at the front, arms loosely crossed, a commanding presence that makes them sit a little straighter without even thinking about it.

"This morning we've got some important news about the mid-term placement test coming up."

Whispers break out immediately. Ha-yoon leans forward in her seat, elbows on the desk, her silver eyes bright and focused. Beside her, Si-woo feels his stomach do a little flip.

Minho raises a hand, quieting the room. "As most of you already know, this test decides whether you move forward in your studies here. But for anyone who took the pre-midterm placement test and scored ninety percent or higher, the midterms are not mandatory. You don't have to sit for the mid-term unless you think you can advance to a higher echelon, though the same consequences do apply upon failure."

A wave of surprise washes over the class. Ha-yoon's face lights up like she'd just won a prize. She twists toward Si-woo. "That means I'm done! I can skip the whole thing and just eat yoa, I mean, focus on training."

Si-woo manages a smile. "Yeah, you crushed that pre-test. I don't think you would even have to come in for that whole week."

Minho keeps going. "I want each of you to take a moment and think about where you've come from and where you're headed. Whether you're moving up, staying put, or dealing with a bump in the road, every single challenge is a chance to get stronger. Those of you advancing? You'll pick up new responsibilities, new knowledge, new ways to push yourselves."

Ha-yoon's hand shoots up before he can even finish the sentence. She doesn't wait long. "What about the kids who scored low on the pre-test? I know that one didn't count against them, but… if someone doesn't pass this actual mid-term, what happens? Can they retake it later or something?"

Minho's expression shifts into something more solemn. "No," he says flatly. "If you score low on this one, you drop a level or maybe two, depending on the results. That's why you need to prepare thoroughly. Treat it like it matters, because it does."

Si-woo feels the words land like stones in his gut. He begins to discreetly bite his nails.

Minho wasn't done. "Review your notes, drill the techniques, lean on each other. That's how you build a solid foundation for success."

He wraps up the main part of the lesson with a few more reminders about study schedules and practice fields.

"Additionally, mark your calendars for the parent,student,teacher conference. It's mandatory, no exceptions. Every student needs a parent or guardian there so we can go over your progress, speak on any rough spots, and figure out how to keep you moving forward."

Ha-yoon's face brightens for half a second before it falls into a thoughtful frown. Si-woo feels that familiar twist in his chest, the one that always shows up when family stuff comes up. He stares down at his notebook, tracing a random line with his finger, trying to keep his expression neutral. The thought of walking into that room without their parents… it hits different every time. He can already picture the other kids showing up with moms and dads, laughing in the hallway, while he and Ha-yoon stand there alone, trying not to look like the orphans they are.

He steals a glance at Ha-yoon. She is staring straight ahead, lost in her own thoughts, but she doesn't say anything out loud.

Minho speaks, his voice softening just a notch. "If you can't bring a parent for whatever reason, a guardian or another trusted adult works fine. The whole point is to check in on how you're doing and talk through anything that's holding you back. No one has to go it completely alone."

The bell rings then, sharp and clear, cutting through the tension. Desks scrape back, voices rise again, and the classroom empties in a rush of footsteps and chatter. With compassion, Mai rubs Ha-yoon's shoulder and gazes at Si-woo before leaving. Si-woo and Ha-yoon linger, neither one in a hurry to face the hallway just yet.

"I really wish they were here," Ha-yoon says under her breath once the last few kids have trickled out. Her voice comes out quieter than she meant.

Si-woo reaches over and rests his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know. It sucks. But we've got each other, right? Look at how far we've already come, making friends, training with Minho, figuring out the academy, bonding with the creatures. We're not doing this alone."

Ha-yoon nods, letting his words settle. A little of the weight lifts. "Yeah. You're right. We just need to keep going. That's what they'd want."

They walk out together, morning light stretching shadows across the stone floors. The rest of the day blurs, lectures, sparring sessions on the practice field, lunch in the noisy dining hall where everyone is already buzzing about the test and the conference. By the time afternoon comes, the academy grounds have gone almost completely quiet, everyone retreated to their homes.

Si-woo and Ha-yoon walk side by side along a path that curves around the main shops of Seoul, other conversations and footsteps filling the air for a while.

Si-woo stares straight up at the sun. The parent, student conference is only a few days away. We're going to see rows of kids with their proud moms and dads laughing hand in hand. Salt to the wound.

Memories flicker uninvited, the way Si-woo's mom and brother used to ruffle his hair before school, the deep laugh Ha-yoon's dad had when he told stories about his work. The earthquake had ripped all of that away in a single afternoon, leaving nothing but rubble and silence. Every time they saw another student's family clustered together in the courtyard, it brought the loss rushing back like a wave he couldn't outrun.

Si-woo glances at Ha-yoon, who is just as lost in thought as he is. "It's going to be okay. We'll figure out who to bring, maybe one of the instructors, or even Minho if he's free. It doesn't have to be this huge thing."

Ha-yoon exhales slowly, the air cool against her face. "I know. It just… the pain is different sometimes."

Si-woo bumps her shoulder. "A parent, teacher conference shouldn't be anything compared to what Master trains us to do."

A small smile tugs at her lips despite everything. He's right. We've been through worse than a school conference. We've tamed beasts, pushed through training that left us bruised, and come out the other side still standing. The test, the conference, the weight of expectations from the fae, I'll just have to tackle it one by one.

...

Beside her, turning his gaze away from the moon, Si-woo notices uneasiness in her. He gently tugs on her sleeve. "Ha-yoon… are you okay?" His voice is soft.

"Yeah, just… thinking. How 'bout you?" she asks quietly.

He forces a small smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "As fine as I can be."

They exchange glances. Together, they walk into the academy. The environment of young fae happily dragging their parents along sends small pangs through their hearts. Si-woo squares his shoulders, putting on a brave face for Ha-yoon's sake.

Joyful voices and lingering eyes from adults surround them as they walk through the hallways. Si-woo clenches his jaw, his expression remaining stoic, refusing the pull of the bittersweet memories.

They walk through the sea of families. Ha-yoon leans toward Si-woo. "What do you think they'll do if they see us without anyone?"

Before Si-woo can answer, a deep voice calls from above them.

"There you are! I've been looking for my children everywhere."

They turn and look up to see a plump, ordinary, looking fae man standing there. He has a slightly crooked mustache, plain clothes that blend right in with the crowd, and an unassuming face no one would give a second glance. The man fiddles with a small device clipped to his collar. There's a soft click, and suddenly the voice that comes out is one they know instantly, King Morey. "It's me. You all wouldn't think I'd just leave you hanging, right?"

Ha-yoon's eyes widen with shock, then she breaks into a huge grin, biting her lip hard to keep from laughing out loud.

"King, I mean, um…" she stammers, barely holding it together.

He clicks the device off his collar. "Sir Vostel," King Morey says smoothly, giving her a quick wink. "I'll be your guardian for this event."

Si-woo feels an unexpected wave of warmth and relief wash over him. He nods, almost bursting out with laughter, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening. This is ridiculous, but having him here, even in this goofy getup… maybe this won't be so bad.

"Well then," King Morey gestures toward the classrooms, "shall we?"

"We shall," Ha-yoon says joyfully, jumping to lock arms with him.

They walk over to Lady Larkin, a beautiful woman with the appearance of a storm cloud and Ha-yoon's old Hoken language arts teacher. She greets them with a warm smile, but her gaze shifts curiously to the man beside them.

"Ah, a prior genius of mine: Ha-yoon and Si-woo," she says brightly. Then, with a polite tilt of her head, "And you are…?"

King Morey gives a little bow, his voice deepening in a comically serious way. "Sir Vostel, ma'am. Pleased to meet you. I've heard so much about your excellent teaching from my children."

Lady Larkin blinks a few times, clearly thrown off by his odd appearance. She recovers quickly and smiles. "Wonderful to meet you, Sir Vostel." She doesn't press further and launches into talking about Ha-yoon's progress. She gives glowing feedback on how quickly she'd picked up Hoken written vocabulary.

"Although," Lady Larkin's tone shifts slightly, "every now and then she and her friends would disrupt the classroom with their obnoxious laughter."

"I am not,"

King Morey puts up a hand, quieting Ha-yoon, and continues to nod along thoughtfully, throwing in little comments.

The pattern continues from teacher to teacher. Each one praises the siblings' hard work and improvement, while "Sir Vostel" listens with exaggerated seriousness, occasionally adding over-the-top remarks that have Ha-yoon and Si-woo fighting back giggles. When Mistress Elyria compliments him on raising "such accomplished and well, mannered children," Ha-yoon has to fake a coughing fit to hide her laughter. Si-woo turns away, cheeks hurting from trying not to smile too obviously.

Finally, they reach the last station. Si-woo pauses, spotting a figure across the hall standing with Mai. A tall man with soft features yet frail at the same time, dirty blond curly hair just over teal eyes, with a slight hunch to his posture.

"Si-woo," Ha-yoon whispers, nudging him with her elbow, "that's Minho, right?"

Si-woo smirks. "Has to be. He's going by an alias too. Let's go see."

On their way there, Z flies in, finding Si-woo's bed of curly hair to sit on.

"Good evening," Minho says, his voice wispy. His eyes flicker briefly to King Morey's eccentric outfit. "I see the human children have a very… dedicated guardian with them tonight."

King Morey puffs out his chest proudly. "Indeed, Sir Alen," he replies in the booming fake voice. "We do whatever it takes for our kids."

Z stands on Si-woo's head, twisting back and forth between their costumes, eyes full of bewilderment.

Ha-yoon and Mai muffle their uncontrollable, sporadic laughs, barely standing. Si-woo smiles as King Morey and Minho observe each other's cosmetics.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of lighthearted conversations and polite handshakes. Teachers share notes on strengths and areas to improve, while the two disguised figures play their roles with surprising commitment. They step out of the building, the full moon high in the sky, bathing the academy grounds in soft silver light.

For one evening, they hadn't had to walk in alone. They weren't just the orphaned siblings everyone whispered about. They had people who cared enough to show up, even if it meant wearing fake mustaches and using voice, changing gadgets.

As they head back home, the night air cool and peaceful around them, Si-woo glances up at the moon, holding onto Z.

Ha-yoon bumps his shoulder lightly. "Sir Vostel and Sir Alen, huh?"

Si-woo laughs under his breath. "Don't even start. I don't think I'll ever let that go."

Ha-yoon giggles. "I definitely won't."

They walk on together, the sound of their quiet laughter carrying softly into the night.

...

In the academy, they turn into the bustling main hallway. A concoction of energy from the view hits them. Students cluster in groups, voices overlapping in excited chatter that bounces off the hall. The morning light streams through the tall arched windows, catching on colorful uniforms. The whole corridor is alive with possibility. Everywhere Si-woo and Ha-yoon look, kids are talking about the same thing.

"Did you hear? The Rankers are actually opening recruitment soon!" one boy says loudly, eyes wide with dreams. His friends lean in closer, hanging on every word.

Ha-yoon slows her steps. "I still can't believe there's a whole family dedicated to exploring the anomalies," she says, voice bright with wonder. "It sounds incredible, like an adventure inside an adventure, not just academic stuff."

Si-woo walks beside her, hands tucked into his pockets, a small frown creasing his brow. "Yeah, but it's dangerous, Ha-yoon. The adventurers would go,"

"I know, I know it's risky. But think about it, what if we could join them one day? The treasures, the discoveries, the chance to actually explore places no one's seen before…" Her eyes sparkle as she imagines it. "What if we found something that explained more about what happened to Earth?"

"Maybe, but maybe we have all the answers we need," he says. "I just don't want us rushing into something that could get us hurt before we're really ready."

Quick footsteps come up behind them. Mai appears at their side, silver ponytail swinging, a big smile lighting up her face.

"Hey! Are you two gossiping about the Rankers too? The whole academy's losing their minds over it this morning."

"Yeah," Si-woo says, keeping his tone measured. "It sounds exciting on paper, but I keep thinking about how risky it is. We don't even know everything about these anomalies yet. People could get seriously hurt, or worse."

Mai nods, her expression turning thoughtful as they keep walking. "It is risky, no doubt about that. But that's also what makes it matter. If they're recruiting, it means they need strong, capable people who are willing to step up. Could be our chance to actually make a real difference out there, you know?"

Ha-yoon's enthusiasm bubbles over again. "Exactly! I want to go into those dungeons, find hidden treasures, uncover secrets. Find more treasure… Maybe even find more people… who will have more treasure for us."

Si-woo lets out a slow breath, glancing between the two giggling girls.

The three of them continue down the hallway, sharing thoughts and half, joking plans. Laughter mixes with the serious notes of ambition, their voices blending into the lively chorus around them.

...

Students file into the dojo hall, the air full of anticipation and the faint scent of polished wood and clean sweat. Sunlight filters through high windows, gleaming off the wide training mats and the racks of practice weapons lining the walls. Master Choi stands at the front like a miniature statue, muscular, broad-shouldered fae with striking fiery red hair tied back and intense red eyes that burn with a glance.

"Now that we're past the pre-midterms, WELCOME to the basics of martial arts!" he bellows, voice booming across the hall. "Today you'll each choose a weapon for sparring practice. I'll be assigning you partners, so don't get any ideas."

A chorus of "Yes, Master Choi" ripples through the class. The students move toward the weapon racks eagerly, hands hovering over wooden swords, staves, spears, and smaller edges.

Si-woo scans the options carefully. His eyes keep drifting back to a sleek practice dagger with a balanced hilt and a dull blade. He picks it up, feeling the familiar weight settle comfortably in his hand.

Ha-yoon gazes at the weapons. If I could use my fists I would and just whack them to the promise land, but I'll just go with this I guess… She picks up a pair of practice claws. She flexes her fingers around the grips. "Nice."

Across the room, Sol struts over pretentiously to the rack, looks, and grabs a massive two-handed practice sword nearly as tall as he is. He swings it once with a smug grin, his gaze sliding straight over to Si-woo.

Mai twirls a long staff experimentally before she slices it through the air in the blink of an eye.

Si-woo takes a slow, steadying breath. He lifts the dagger and places the hilt between his teeth, clamping down gently to help sharpen his focus. A few students snicker at the sight, whispering behind their hands, but he tunes them out completely.

Master Choi's voice cuts through the noise. "Pairs for sparring!" He begins calling names. When he reaches, "Sol and Si-woo, you're up first!" the entire dojo seems to go quieter. All eyes turn toward them.

Si-woo's jaw clenches as he steps onto the mat, heart hammering steadily. It isn't like this is our first matchup, but I can't just shake these nerves. Sol has beaten me in most of our sparring sessions, with the rest ending in draws.

"I'm running out of pencils, Si-woo. How about I cut those trees in your front yard?" Sol taunts, lifting the big sword high with a cocky smirk.

Si-woo remains silent, the hilt in his mouth. He can feel the stares, the pressure, but he pushes it aside and focuses inward.

Master Choi narrows his eyes, watching them closely.

"Begin!"

The moment the word leaves his mouth, Si-woo activates the deific eye of the storm. The translucent sensory field blooms around him, a calm but powerful dome extending a full meter in every direction. Everything sharpens: the subtle shifts in air, the faint creak of the mat under Sol's feet, the rhythm of his opponent's breathing.

THIS BOY IS ALREADY PRACTICING TOEJU? Master Choi's eyes widen with astonishment. In the teachers' conference when reviewing human anatomy there was no indication that humans could even use serein… but without awakening, inactive meridians, and the purest of serein, he's using it.

Sol charges in like a bull, swinging the heavy sword in a wide, powerful arc. Si-woo sidesteps at the last second, the blade whistling past his shoulder. He counters quickly, thrusting his fist toward Sol's exposed side. Sol blocks it cleanly with the flat of his sword, the impact jarring Si-woo's arm.

"So plain and simple," Sol laughs, pressing forward with another heavy swing that forces Si-woo back several steps.

Heat rises in Si-woo's cheeks, the sting of embarrassment, but he refuses to let it throw him. He sinks deeper into the flow of serein, letting the forcefield pulse with his breathing, feeding him information with every heartbeat.

"The greenie needs a thorough reminder, Sol," Sol's crew taunt from the sidelines.

"C'mon, Si-woo! You've got this! Show him!" Ha-yoon shouts from the sidelines, her voice cutting through the tension like a lifeline. Mai cheers right beside her, pumping her fist.

Can't lose again, especially in front of Ha-yoon. Si-woo darts in closer, dagger dropping to his right hand, flashing in quick, precise strikes aimed at Sol's ribs and shoulder. Sol spins away and retaliates with a fast kick that catches Si-woo in the side, knocking him off balance. He stumbles but catches himself, the sensory field helping him regain footing faster than before.

The fight continues, fast and intense. Sol's raw power meets Si-woo's growing precision and awareness. Each clash of weapons rings out across the dojo. Students watch in hushed excitement as Si-woo refuses to stay down.

Sweat beads on Si-woo's forehead, but his movements grow smoother, more confident. Deific Eye's field hums steadily around him, turning every attack into something he can read and respond to, even just a fraction faster.

Sol's smirk starts to slip.

"You… Something's different about you."

Si-woo pulls the dagger back, breathing hard but steady, eyes locked on his opponent. He isn't smiling now, and he's steadily slowing down, but even without using serein his reaction speed and strength is comparable to mine… but the match isn't over yet. I will give my everything. I won't lose this.

Sol charges in again, swinging then stopping short from Si-woo. Si-woo's confidence grows as he deflects Sol's attacks. He anticipates Sol's movements as swiftly as if he were reading a book.

THERE! In a moment of clarity, Si-woo spots an opening as Sol overextends himself in an attack. Seizing the opportunity, he sidesteps and strikes with the dagger, bruising Sol's arm.

The hall fills with gasps. Sol glares at him, eyes filled with disbelief.

"Ugh, you," he begins.

Master Choi raises a hand to signal the end of the sparring match.

"Enough! You both demonstrated excellent technique and adaptability," he declares, a hint of approval in his voice. "Keep practicing. Remember, it's not just about strength; it's about strategy and resilience."

As they step off the mat, Ha-yoon rushes to Si-woo's side. "You knew you could handle that butthead!"

Si-woo couldn't help but smile. "Heh, now it's your turn to show them too."

As Sol joins the crowd, still bristling from the unexpected challenge, Si-woo hesitates for a moment before speaking up.

"Sol," he begins, trying to be constructive, "your sword is quite large. To me it seemed like it was wielding you instead of the other way around. Maybe you should consider using a lighter weapon that fits your style better."

"Are you saying I can't handle my own sword?" Sol's expression darkens. "That's rich coming from you."

"No, I'm just saying," Si-woo starts, but Sol cuts him off.

"You think you can lecture me now just because you landed a lucky hit?" Sol sneers, his eyes fiery with mischief.

Si-woo sighs. "That's not what I meant at all. I just thought,"

"Forget it," Sol snaps. "Look forward to next time."

As Sol stalks off, Mai shoots Si-woo a sympathetic glance. "You were just trying to help but he took it offensively. He kinda reminds me of…"

"Don't say it," Si-woo replies, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment.

...

The final bell rings through the academy halls, sharp and sweet. "Huhhhh," Si-woo lets out a long breath. "Finally." Today's been nothing but lectures, notes, and sharp stares from Sol's friends.

"Is this really how boring your classes are?" Ha-yoon asks, stretching from her seat. "I need some sugar in my system."

"No you don't," Si-woo quickly replies.

"I wasn't asking… I'm going to find me some somewhere."

"Hold on," Mai digs through her backpack. "I think I have a moonberry pastry in here… here it is!"

"Ugh," Si-woo stresses. "You don't have to deal with hyper Ha-yoon every other day."

Ha-yoon takes a bite. "Mmph, trayshing sho eal woth eh."

Mai lightly giggles. "Yeah, your training should burn all that sugar off you. You've both gotten so strong too. You must be doing a lot at the training grounds."

Si-woo nods. "My body already aches thinking of what Minho has in store for us. I'll meet you at the front of the academy, Ha-yoon. Gotta use the bathroom." He slings his bag over his shoulder, making for the restroom.

He pushes open the heavy wooden door and steps inside. Why are the lights so dim? Long shadows cast across the tiled floors and slick sinks. The door clicks shut behind him, then the lock turns with a heavy, deliberate snap.

Si-woo freezes.

He turns slowly. Sol, leaning against the door with that same smug, ugly grin. Three of his lackeys flank him, spreading out to block the narrow space. Their faces twist with nefarious satisfaction, eyes gleaming like they'd been waiting for this all afternoon.

The air thickens suddenly, heavy with the faint smell of damp stone and old cleaning solution. Si-woo's heart picks up speed, but his face remains calm, shoulders relaxed. There's no way out. Not yet.

Sol grips the door handle behind his back, tilting his head. "So you think you're better than me now, huh?" he sneers, voice low and mocking. "Giving me tips about my own weapon? That was real cute, Si-woo."

Si-woo stays quiet for a beat, mind racing through everything Minho had drilled into him. It's stressed to expulsion that serein is prohibited to use unsupervised. No serein here then. That would only make everything worse if teachers found out. He focuses on his breathing, on keeping his center.

"I wasn't trying to insult you, Sol," he says evenly, voice steady.

"I was just saying what I noticed during the match. That's all."

One of the lackeys, a tall, skinny fae kid with short silver hair, lets out a harsh bark of laughter.

"Sure sounded like a challenge to me."

"Shut up," Sol snaps at the boy, then steps closer. His burgundy hair catches the weak overhead light, making his expression look even sharper.

"You walk around here like you're hot stuff just because you're from some other realm. But in this academy? You're nobody and I'm sick and tired of you acting any differently." Without warning, he shoves Si-woo hard in the chest, slamming him back against the cold edge of the sink.

The impact jars through Si-woo's spine, pain flaring bright for a second, but he doesn't flinch or cry out. He'd taken harder hits in training. He keeps his balance, eyes locked on Sol, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing fear.

Sol fills with more fury as he observes Si-woo's indifference. His fists clench tight at his sides.

One of the other lackeys moves in from the side, reaching to grab Si-woo's arm. Si-woo shifts his weight instinctively, the way Minho had taught him, small movements, using the cramped space instead of fighting it. He slips the grab, twists, and lands a quick, sharp elbow into the boy's ribs. The lackey stumbles back with a surprised grunt.

"You want to have some fun too?" Sol hisses, coming in faster now, swinging wild.

Si-woo is already moving. He uses the narrow restroom to his advantage, keeping his back near the wall so they can't surround him completely. Dodges, quick redirects, small counters, consistent and efficient. A palm strike to redirect a punch, a step back to make another miss. His smaller size allows better mobility, slipping through gaps they couldn't. I can't keep this up. It's four against one in such a tight spot… they'll wear me down.

Just as Sol rears back for another heavy swing, a voice echoes from the hallway outside.

"Hey! What's taking so long in there? Some of us need to use the restroom!"

Sol freezes, cursing under his breath. He glares at Si-woo with pure venom.

"This isn't over," he growls, voice low and threatening. "Not even close."

With a sharp jerk of his head, he signals his friends. One of them unlocks the door quickly. They file out fast, shoving past Si-woo on their way, shoulders bumping him deliberately. The door swings shut behind them, leaving him alone in the sudden quiet.

Si-woo stands there for a moment, breathing slow and deep. His ribs throb where Sol had landed some blows, and his back aches against the sink, but nothing feels broken. He rolls his shoulders, checks his reflection in the spotted mirror, hair messy, a faint bruise already forming on his forearm. He splashes some cold water on his face.

Relief mixes with that lingering tension in his gut. That… that wasn't so bad. I… this might be bearable.

He steps back into the hallway. The bright afternoon light and normal chatter feel almost jarring after the dim confrontation. Up ahead, he spots Ha-yoon and Mai walking toward him with a couple of their friends, laughing.

They hadn't seen anything. Good. I don't need any sympathy right now, especially not before training. I can handle this. He forces a small smile and raises his hand in a casual wave as they get closer.

"Hey," Ha-yoon calls, still grinning. "I thought you were about to bail the way you took so long."

"Yeah," Si-woo replies, keeping his voice light. "Wouldn't miss it."

As they fall into step together, the girls chatting away, Si-woo walks with them but can't quite shake the unease. He said that "it wasn't over yet." He's definitely going to plan something in the near future.

He glances sideways at Ha-yoon's bright expression and Mai's easy laughter. I've become just as strong, or stronger, than Sol. There's not much he can do to me. With training to focus on, I'm getting stronger, faster, smarter every day. But next time, what if someone doesn't interrupt them? I can't stay on defense.

The academy corridors stretch out ahead, full of students heading home or to extracurriculars. Si-woo clenches his jaw once, then lets it go.