Field training with the help of adventurer’s guild summoners had gone smoother than expected. Their guidance shaved hours off the drills, and the students wrapped the session just in time for the afternoon classes.

  When lessons ended, Suri didn’t follow the others to the mess hall. Instead, she made her way straight to the principal’s office.

  Principal Light was sipping tea when she entered, his white beard shifting with his smile. “What’s the sudden visit, Suri?”

  She sat down across the broad desk, posture calm, voice flat. “I do not agree to being assigned night patrol duty.”

  “Ah,” the principal said, setting his cup aside. “So you’ve heard. Twenty silver a month is the compensation. Not insignificant. Are you sure?”

  Suri hesitated, her eyes narrowing at the thought of extra coin. That was no small addition to her monthly budget. But the price was too steep. “I prioritize my sleep.”

  Principal Light chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Practical. A few coins aren’t worth consecutive nights of exhaustion, especially at your age.”

  He tapped his fingers against the desk, thoughtful, then leaned back. “Still… perhaps silver isn’t the right incentive.”

  From a lower drawer he retrieved a glass vial, sealed with a shimmering blue wax. The liquid inside glowed faintly, pulsing as if alive.

  “This,” he said, holding it carefully, “is not something men can craft. A dungeon item. A potion that permanently expands one’s mana reserve—about ten percent.”

  Suri’s breath caught. Her eyes flicked from the potion to the principal. “Why give this to me? Why not keep it for yourself?”

  Principal Light laughed, a full belly laugh this time. “I’ve already taken mine. A second does nothing.”

  Suri didn’t wait for him to reconsider. She plucked the vial from his hand, broke the seal, and downed the potion in one steady pull. The liquid burned cool down her throat, and a shiver spread through her body as her mana pulsed wider, deeper. She could feel it as if etched into her bones.

  “I accept,” she said.

  She leaned forward, voice more conspiratorial now. “I can set up illusions with autonomous commands. They’ll patrol for me. If they detect anything unusual, they’ll notify me—or whichever professor is on duty. I’ll still sleep soundly while doing my part.”

  Principal Light blinked, then barked a laugh. “You can do that? You truly are the one…” His words trailed off.

  “The one?” Suri tilted her head.

  For a moment his eyes flickered with something—fear, awe, maybe both. Then he forced a smile. “Ah, just an old man’s slip. Forget I said it. Why not just say that in the first place?”

  Suri grinned, sharp and triumphant. “That’s how deals work. You don’t show all your ace cards.”

  The principal stared at her, speechless, before finally muttering, “Youngsters nowadays are terrifying.”

  As Suri left, Light did not feel upset. Not at all. No—her words were proof. Proof that he had been right all along.

  He leaned back in the chair, fingers drumming against the armrest in slow rhythm. The dream they had dreamed before… it was no longer just a dream. Each talent she revealed brought it closer to reality.

  The kingdom soon would be turned upside down. As soon as she was ready.

  …..

  As Suri stepped out of the principal’s building, the evening chill greeted her. Kana and Boris were already waiting near the bonfire. Boris had both hands outstretched, rubbing them together in front of the flames, though he still managed to wave when he spotted her.

  She approached them. “Let’s go?”

  Kana and Boris both nodded, falling into step beside her.

  “How did it go?” Kana asked.

  “I agreed in the end.” Suri sighed dramatically, though her grin betrayed her mood. “The principal bribed me with something I couldn’t refuse.”

  That caught their attention. Both Kana and Boris leaned slightly closer.

  “He gave me a potion that permanently increases mana capacity by ten percent.”

  Their voices overlapped in unison. “Ohhh.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Even Kana, who usually kept her composure, looked impressed.

  “That’s… rare,” Kana murmured, frowning in thought. “I’ve read about dungeon loot like that, but they only found a handful in history. Why would the principal give you something so valuable?”

  Suri flicked her wrist like it was obvious. “Maybe because I’m a gold badge holder, remember? We are heroes.”

  Kana gave her a flat look. “Where is it now?”

  Suri grinned, tapping her chest. “Already drank it. Honestly, I feel like I don’t even need to sleep tonight. I’m kinda full of energy!”

  They walked together through the lantern-lit paths of the academy, until the tall outline of the girls’ dormitory loomed ahead. Boris stopped at the steps, awkwardly folding his arms, “Guess this is where I get abandoned.”

  “Wait here,” Kana said.

  The two girls climbed the short stairs, Kana rapping her knuckles against one of the doors. It creaked open after a pause, revealing a girl with long black hair that fell in a tangled mess down her shoulders. She wore rumpled pajamas, and her voice carried the sluggish weight of someone who had just rolled out of bed.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “Is Mica here?” Kana asked politely.

  The girl blinked, then scratched the side of her cheek. “I am Mica.”

  Kana hesitated. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it wasn’t… this. The girl looked like she wouldn’t harm an ant. A commoner too. Yet appearances meant nothing here—Kana had learned that quickly. She forced her doubt aside.

  “We’re curious about your summons,” Kana said. “Can you show us?”

  Mica tilted her head, one eye half-closed as though debating whether it was worth the effort. “Ah… you’re the two gold badge holders. Not sure why you’re curious.” Her lips curved into the faintest smirk. “But… maybe it’s worth showing. It’s nothing special. Well… maybe a little special.”

  …

  Outside the dorms, under the fading orange sky, Mica raised her hand.

  “My class is [Beastmaster],” she said.

  [Beast Summon]

  A faint glow rippled across the ground, and from it a massive feline emerged—sleek, powerful, its golden fur striped with shadows. The beast growled low, then immediately bounded toward Mica. It knocked her back with a playful pounce, rubbing its head against her chest and licking her face like a house cat.

  “They stay at our home most of the time,” Mica explained between laughs, scratching its ear. “I can call them whenever I wish. But unlike the [Summon] skill from [Summoner] class, once they die… they’re gone for good.”

  The trio, who had instinctively tightened into combat stance at the summoning glow, slowly eased. Kana gave a small nod. “It’s an excellent skill.”

  “Yes,” Mica admitted, brushing fur off her pajama. “But there’s a catch—I must raise them when they are young. Taming an adult beast is… not worth the trouble.” She patted the great cat fondly. “This cute one is Shai.”

  The beast purred like a rolling storm, baring fangs longer than Kana’s arm.

  The trio forced polite smiles, though unease lingered in their eyes. “Cute,” Boris repeated under his breath,earning a quick glare from Suri. Was he referring to the summoned beast or Mica?

  “Thank you for indulging our sudden request,” Kana said, bowing slightly. “We’ll repay you properly next time.”

  “For that…” Mica’s eyes shifted, settling squarely on Suri. “I’ve heard of your illusions. I may need your help soon.”

  Suri grinned, tilting her head as if the challenge amused her. “As long as I’m capable—and available—I’ll do it.”

  The scarecrow attacked was not from a student? Kana and Suri came to a conclusion while Boris seemed to focus on something else, forgetting the reason why they were there in the first place.

  …

  Flowel was impressed. The students had dismantled his weakest summon in mere minutes. Most would have dismissed the fight as nothing. But to him, that brief clash revealed everything—timing, coordination, and, most importantly, their weaknesses. That was all he needed.

  The basement was cold and damp. A single lantern flickered on a wooden table cluttered with scrolls, books and bone fragments.

  “You’re right,” Flowel said, almost amused. “They are troublesome… but I can break them.”

  Balt’s rough voice rasped back. “What do I need to do?”

  “The red-haired girl,” Flowel answered, leaning forward, his smile curving in the lantern light. “She’s the only one who can feel my mana strings. That makes her a bad matchup for me. I want you to handle her. She has no real combat strength. For someone like you, it should be… simple. This dungeon item will help.”

  Balt reluctantly accepted the precious item. “And the other two? They’re my target.”

  “I’ll deal with them myself,” Flowel replied, eyes narrowing. “They’re still a problem, but nothing I can’t handle. I’ll give them to you.”

  The air between them seemed to grow colder as he added, “Don’t kill her. Just keep her alive—barely. We still have vaults to recover, and I need her breathing for now.”

  There was a pause.

  “After that…” Flowel’s voice dropped, “…they’re all yours.”

  He had already planned ahead, of course. Balt was useful, but pawns always broke. Failure was inevitable for some. But him? He always had contingencies.

  For a long moment, the basement was silent save for the faint drip of water somewhere. Balt was already long gone. Flowel’s reflection twisted across a broken mirror, and then his lips peeled back in a grin, teeth gleaming in the lantern glow.

  The newly built orphanage.

  The thought slithered into his mind, and with it came the slow curl of laughter, low at first, then swelling, echoing off the walls. The children—their laughter, their fragile little lives—they were so precious to Kana and her little band. Just imagining their faces when he reached for those innocents sent a thrill down his spine.

  “Oh, yes,” he whispered, tilting his head back as if savoring the damp air. “They care far too much. And nothing… nothing breaks a person faster than watching everything they love burn.”

  He licked his lips.

  Yes. Whether through direct confrontation or by tearing into the fragile hearts they shielded, he would break them. And when they shattered—when their hope crumbled into ash—he would savor every last sound. They would wish his first attempt was successful because that was his mercy.