I took the orb with me to my session with Lina.

  The B-rank dormitories were in a similar structure to the D-rank ones, but the difference in quality was immediately noticeable. The hallways were wider, with actual carpeting instead of bare stone. The walls had decorative enchantments that cast soft light, and there were potted plants at regular intervals that somehow stayed green despite being indoors. Even the air smelled better, like someone was maintaining proper ventilation spells.

  I guess rank really did have its privileges.

  Soon I was knocking on Lina's door. She opened it a crack, peering out and looking around the corridor like we were planning some kind of secret mission.

  "Come in," she said, opening the door wider once she was satisfied no one was watching.

  I entered her room, and my first thought was that it was much bigger than mine. Easily twice the size. Her bed was a proper double bed with an actual headboard, not the simple cot I had. She had a desk with multiple drawers, a bookshelf already half-filled with textbooks and notebooks, a comfortable reading chair in the corner, and even a small workspace table covered in tools.

  But what really caught my attention were the magical artifacts scattered throughout the floor. Dozens of them. Some looked like half-finished enchantment projects, others like broken mechanisms. Metal pieces, crystal formations, carved wooden totems, all in various states of completion or destruction.

  "You can have the chair," she said, moving to sit on her bed and grabbing a fresh notebook from her nightstand. How many of those did she have? It seemed like every time I saw her, she had a new one.

  "Why do you have so many things everywhere?" I asked, gesturing at all the artifacts scattered around.

  "Oh, those are all failed projects." She said it so casually, like having dozens of magical artifacts lying around was completely normal. "Most of them I bought the materials for myself, just experimenting. Only a handful are from class assignments."

  I looked around again. Having seen Emberheart's study full of research materials and books, maybe this was just normal for dedicated mages. Maybe I was the unusual one for not being interested in collecting weird magical artifacts.

  I looked back at Lina, who was flipping through her notebook trying to find something specific. Her blue hair was pulled back in a messy bun today, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. She was wearing casual clothes—a simple shirt and comfortable pants—instead of her uniform.

  "So, what do we have planned for today?"

  "We're going to start simple." She found the page she was looking for and tapped it with satisfaction. "I've written out some rules that should be safe to test. They'll help us establish a baseline for how your power works, then we can build up to more complex experiments from there."

  She set the notebook on her bed, then looked at me properly for the first time and noticed the orb resting on my lap.

  Her eyes went wide.

  "Is that... Is that a combat orb?" She stood up immediately, moving closer. "It looks... Kai, it's so well made. It's not just a ball of metal. It actually has structural components, pieces that can move, space for modifications and rune inscriptions..."

  She was staring at it like it was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. But I noticed she didn't try to touch it, her hands hovering nearby but keeping a respectful distance.

  "Emberheart gave it to me," I explained. "So I can use it as a weapon in combat."

  "How did he even get his hands on one of these?" She crouched down to examine it more closely, her eyes tracking the hexagonal plates. "There must be fewer than ten of these in the entire world. And I didn't think Emberheart cared about combat artifacts like this. His specialty is fire magic, not enchantment."

  "Apparently he had some help from Silvani," I said.

  "That explains everything." Lina smiled, still absorbed in examining the orb. "She must have contacts from her mana theory research. Kai, this is incredible. It's the kind of thing master enchanters spend their entire lives trying to develop. The precision required, the mana conductivity, the structural integrity to withstand combat..."

  I looked down at the orb. To me it still just looked like a very elaborate piece of metal.

  "That's... nice?" I tried to match her energy but wasn't very successful.

  She noticed my lack of enthusiasm and laughed slightly. "Right, sorry. I get carried away with enchantment stuff." She went back to her bed and picked up her notebook. "Anyway, the rules. The first one will be simple: 'this notebook page is empty.'"

  She handed me the notebook, showing me a page where she'd written just that simple phrase.

  "What's that supposed to test?" I asked, looking at the basic rule. "We already know it'll remove the writing." Then I paused, realizing something. "Wait, should I write this in common script or ancient script?"

  "Lots of things, actually. For instance, if it..." She stopped mid-sentence, processing what I'd just asked. "...What?"

  I felt the blood drain from my face. For some reason, I hadn't thought this information was particularly important, but her expression made it clear she thought otherwise.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Um... Normally I write in ancient script when I make rules," I admitted. "It's faster and feels more natural than common writing."

  "How the..." Lina took a deep breath, clearly trying to control her volume. "How do you know ancient script?!"

  "It just... comes to me when I think about the rule I want to make." I tried to explain, but it sounded weak even to me.

  She breathed deeply, her hands clenching and unclenching. "And you didn't think to mention this before? Kai, this changes everything!"

  "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

  "Ancient script probably has completely different grammatical rules from common script!" She was pacing now, gesturing with her notebook. "All the tests I planned about how your power interprets certain words are potentially useless now, since the words might be completely different in ancient script. The syntax, the implications, the semantic range..."

  She flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. "And I have no idea how to check any of this properly. It's not like I can read ancient script. No one can except for a handful of historical scholars, and they'd ask way too many questions if we tried to consult them."

  "Well..." An idea occurred to me.

  "DON'T even think about it." Lina sat up, pointing at me sternly. "We are NOT messing with my brain. That is completely off the table."

  I made a disappointed face.

  "Absolutely not." She was firm on this. "We're not testing what happens when you alter someone's mind. That's how we end up with catastrophic accidents."

  She went back to her notebook, flipping through pages and muttering to herself. "Okay. Since the words just come to you, it's either a direct translation from your intent, or it's your power interpreting what you want and sending you the correct symbols to achieve that effect." She tapped her pen against the page. "We'd need to test which one it is somehow, but I don't know how without being able to read ancient script ourselves."

  She looked up at me. "For now, let's just do common writing. At least that way we can test the power's mechanics by themselves."

  She handed me back the notebook, open to the same page.

  I wrote the rule in the air with my finger, using common script this time: this notebook page is empty

  The warmth spread through my hand as reality shifted. The writing on the page disappeared instantly, leaving it completely blank.

  "Okay, now for the actual tests." Lina picked up the notebook and tried to write on the page with her pen.

  Nothing happened. The ink wouldn't stick to the paper, like it was repelling the pen.

  "As expected, your rule remains active. It's like the tea cup incident." She tried again, pressing harder. Still nothing. "The page is locked into the state of being empty."

  "We already knew that though," I pointed out.

  "Don't be impatient. This is just confirming our baseline." She tore the page out of the notebook carefully and handed it to me. "Now comes the first real test. Try to imbue it with mana."

  "Sorry?"

  "Imbue it. Channel your mana into the paper itself, not just around it."

  "Oh, okay." I focused, trying to push my mana into the page like I would normally.

  It didn't work. My mana kept forming around the paper, creating a faint glow in the air, but refused to actually enter the paper itself. It was like trying to pour water into a sealed container.

  "Interesting!" Lina's eyes lit up with scientific excitement. "See? It interpreted 'empty' completely literally. Anything you try to do that would make the page 'not empty,' even if it doesn't relate to the original intent of the rule, is still prevented. Your mana would count as making it 'full' of energy, so the rule blocks it."

  "Oh..." That was actually surprising. "So it's really strict about definitions?"

  "Apparently. Which is exactly the kind of information we need." She took the page back and carefully stored it in a folder. "I'm going to keep this page and test the duration of your rule daily. I want to see if it ever expires naturally."

  "Didn't my notebook modification last until I manually removed it?"

  "Yes, but that was a different type of rule. Your self-writing notebook lasted about two weeks before it ran out of space and I had to stop using it, and the rule was still technically active then." She made a note in her research notebook. "We need to test if there's any natural decay, or if your rules genuinely last forever unless you undo them."

  "That's... a long-term experiment."

  "Science takes patience." She grinned at me, then flipped to a new page. "Now, let's move on to the next test."

  I prepared myself mentally. This was going to be a long session.

  We spent the next hour and a half testing different rules and variations.

  Lina had me try various things while she meticulously documented everything in her notebook. Some tests worked exactly as expected. Others had surprising results that made her excited and scribble notes even faster. A few times something unexpected happened and we both had to pause to make sure nothing had gone wrong.

  By the end, Lina had filled several pages with observations and theories, her handwriting getting progressively messier as she got more absorbed in the work.

  "This is so much data," she said, reviewing her notes with satisfaction. "We're building a real foundation here. If we keep this up, you'll actually understand how your power works instead of just guessing."

  "That's the idea," I said, though the testing had left me mentally exhausted in a way that was hard to describe.

  "We'll need to do this regularly. At least once a week." She was already planning ahead. "There's still so much more to test, so many variables to account for..."

  "Lina."

  "What?"

  "I'm exhausted. Can we continue this next week?"

  She blinked, then looked at the time and seemed genuinely surprised by how long we'd been working. "Oh. Sorry, I got carried away again. Yes, same time next week?"

  "Sure." I stood up, grabbing the orb. It still felt heavy and unresponsive in my hands, but I'd work on that later.

  "Thanks for doing this," Lina said as she walked me to the door. "I know testing can be boring, but this is really important."

  "I know. And honestly, it's kind of interesting seeing how it all works." I smiled at her. "Even if you do get a bit intense about it."

  "That's called scientific rigor," she said with mock seriousness.

  "Sure it is."

  I left her room and made my way back through the nicer B-rank hallways, down to the D-rank dormitories and my own small room.

  When I finally got there, I set the orb down on my desk and collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

  Testing magic was mentally exhausting in a different way than physical training. My brain felt like it had been wrung out.

  But we'd learned a lot. And more importantly, Lina seemed genuinely excited about helping me understand my power better.

  That was worth the exhaustion.

  Tomorrow I'd start working on attuning to the orb. Tonight, I just needed sleep.