Amy trudged along the stone path leading to the Hall of Elements, where her combat class would take place, her eyes fixed on the cobblestones beneath her feet with a thoughtful expression.

“Help me become human”… And how exactly am I supposed to do that…?

Libris's request from the previous night echoed in her mind, a demand that she had no idea how to fulfill, or even begin to approach.

After dropping that bombshell, the book had fallen silent, refusing to elaborate further when she asked for any kind of clue on how to exactly do that. Which in turn made Amy wonder if it wasn’t allowed to share.

Things can’t ever be simple, can they?

"Can’t I just use my power to make the readers believe you are human?"

[No. That wouldn't work. Transforming my nature requires... something else entirely.]

“Why not?”

[...] Libris remained silent.

"Then what? How am I supposed to help if my ability is useless for this?" She hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her satchel. "You drop this massive request on me and then refuse to explain how I'm supposed to do it?"

The book stayed stubbornly quiet.

"Fine," Amy huffed, shoving Libris back into her bag. "Can I at least put your demand on hold until I've dealt with some of my more immediate problems?"

[You could take all the time in the world if you want, I don’t care. Be one day, two weeks, four years, or a century. As long as you make me human, then I will be satisfied.]

Amy grimaced at Libris's response. The lack of a time limit would normally suggest indifference, but weirdly enough, those words felt as if they were emphasizing just how important reaching its goal was.

“Will I even manage? How hard will it be?”

[It will be extremely difficult, if not downright impossible. But I trust that you will manage.]

Trust? In me…? It has to be joking…

"Well, that's reassuring," she muttered under her breath.

[So…will you help me?]

"Will I help you?” Amy stopped in her tracks, staring at the book in her bag with an incredulous expression. “Of course I will, you ridiculous book. I owe you one, remember?"

[I don’t believe that our exchanges are equivalent. As I said, this is quite the colossal task. I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it.]

Amy scoffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “If you weren’t here, with me, and I was alone. I don’t know what I would have done. When I say I owe you, I mean it. Moreover, this looks like it is really important to you... Did you seriously think I'd just say no?"

[...I wasn't certain.]

"Well, that's just insulting."

[Many would refuse in your situation, with all the things you have to deal with, adding more to your plate isn’t wise.]

"Yeah, well, I'm not wise, nor smart, so I guess you got lucky."

[I did indeed get lucky. Thank you, Amy.]

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide a little of her embarrassment. "Yeah, sure."

The conversation died as she approached the Hall of Elements.

A steady stream of students flowed through the grand entrance doors. Amy joined them, feeling the familiar tiredness that always settled over her when she was about to work.

Would she someday escape school…?

"Amy! Hey, Amy!"

She turned to see Stella hurrying toward her, her crimson hair bouncing as she jogged to catch up. Alba followed at a more sedate pace, her pink hair neatly combed and her uniform perfectly pressed.

“Vacations” are over, I guess…time to get back to acting…

"We've been looking for you," Stella said, slightly out of breath as she fell into step beside Amy.

"You have?" Amy asked, her tone neutral despite her inner wariness.

Alba caught up, giving Amy a small, shy smile. "We wanted to make sure you were okay. After... you know. Building B."

Amy's expression remained carefully blank. "I'm fine."

"We heard what happened," Stella continued, lowering her voice. "Everyone's talking about it. About what the second years and you did. It’s even in the newspapers."

"Is it true?" Alba asked, her eyes wide. "About the... ritual? And those creatures pretending to be students?"

Amy felt her shoulders tense. The last thing she wanted was to relive those moments right now.

"It was handled," she replied curtly, increasing her pace slightly.

"But how did you know?" Stella persisted, keeping stride. "I mean, nobody even knew those students were missing until you found them."

"Luck," Amy said flatly.

Alba and Stella exchanged glances.

"Then, I guess we all should be glad luck is on your side..." Said Alba with a smile.

Amy's jaw tightened. "I suppose."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Stella spoke again, this time to Alba. "So, ready for combat training? I heard Professor Drayke is really tough."

Great. Just what I needed…

The room was a massive circular chamber with seven enormous stone archways spaced evenly around its perimeter. Each archway bore different elemental markings: fire, water, earth, air, light, shadow, and spirit. The ceiling rose in a perfect dome overhead, creating impressive acoustics that carried even the quietest whisper throughout the space.

As they entered, Amy noticed signs directing first-years to the changing rooms. She, Alba, and Stella walked down a side corridor that branched off from the main hall.

"Did you bring your training clothes?" Alba asked as they walked. "I wasn't sure what exactly we needed."

"Yeah," Amy replied, patting her bag where she'd stuffed the Academy-issued training uniform. The student handbook had been very specific about bringing the proper attire for combat classes.

The changing room was spacious and well-lit, with individual stalls for privacy and rows of lockers along the walls. Several girls were already in various states of undress, chatting nervously about the upcoming class.

Amy found an empty locker and began changing into the required outfit—loose-fitting black pants made of a breathable material, a matching short-sleeved tunic with the Academy's emblem embroidered on the chest, and soft-soled shoes designed for quick movement. The fabric seemed to adjust slightly to her body as she put it on, probably some minor enchantment for comfort.

"I heard Professor Drayke is really intense," Alba said, pulling her pink hair into a tight bun. "I was talking with our seniors, and they said that his conditioning sessions are brutal."

"I'm not worried," Stella declared, though her voice betrayed her nervousness. She glanced at Amy. "You'll probably be fine, though. After fighting those... things in Building B, this should be easy, right?"

Amy merely shrugged, not wanting to encourage more questions about the incident.

As she tucked her possessions into a locker, she caught sight of a second-year girl across the room staring at her with undisguised awe. When she noticed Amy looking back, she quickly averted her gaze.

This is such a pain…

She shook her head, trying to get her mind clear. Sure, all this undeserved attention was annoying and somewhat downright disgusting, but at least it was just that, attention. Instead of continuing to worry about that, she decided to refocus on getting her things into the locker.

Amy hesitated, wondering if she should bring the book with her, then decided against it. Combat training seemed like exactly the wrong place for a sentient, talking book.

[Try not to die,] Libris said dryly as she closed the locker door.

"Your concern is touching."

"Did you say something?" Alba asked, glancing up from tying her shoes.

"Just talking to myself," Amy said quickly. "Bad habit."

Stella grinned. "If you're giving yourself a pep talk, maybe share some with me? I'm terrified of what's coming. My ability is..." she made a see-sawing motion with her hand, "very, very unique…"

When they emerged back into the main hall, the space had transformed. Training mats now covered portions of the floor, and various equipment had been arranged around the perimeter—weights, balance beams, and what looked like enchanted training dummies.

At the center of the hall stood Professor Drayke. His imposing figure somehow seemed even larger in this space, his mechanical arm gleaming in the diffused light streaming through the high windows. His wolf ears twitched slightly as students filed in, assessing each one with predatory awareness.

The professor himself wore a similar training outfit to the students, though his was more worn and practical-looking. His mechanical arm was more visible now without his usual robes, the sophisticated magical engineering exposed.

"Form a semi-circle," he commanded, his voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. Students scrambled to comply, arranging themselves in front of him.

Amy found a spot near the back of the gathered students, trying to blend in despite the occasional whispers and glances directed her way. The murmurs followed her everywhere now—"Building B," "saved those students," and other variations that made her want to sink into the floor.

"Attention," Drayke's voice boomed across the hall without him seeming to raise it much. The chatter died instantly. "Welcome to Combat Applications. Some of you are returning students, others are new. Regardless of your experience, the rules remain the same. First rule: Safety protocols are absolute. Ignore them, and you're out. Second rule: Respect your opponent. Third rule: When I say stop, you stop."

The professor paced in a tight circle, his mechanical arm whirring softly as he gestured. "No exceptions, no excuses. Is that clear?"

"Yes," some students responded.

Drayke nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Before we pair off for combat assessment, we'll begin with basic conditioning and a theoretical overview. First-years, this will establish your foundation. Second-years, consider it a refresher after your break." He clapped his hands once, the sound echoing sharply off the domed ceiling. "Form rows, arm's length apart. We begin with thirty minutes of physical conditioning."

Amy bit back a groan as she took her position.

What followed was a grueling series of exercises that left even the fittest students breathing hard. Push-ups, squats, lunges, planks—Drayke cycled through them relentlessly, occasionally correcting form with sharp barks of instruction.

"Your body is your first weapon," he called as they moved through the exercises. "Magical ability means nothing if your physical vessel fails you. Many battles are won or lost on endurance alone."

By the time they finished, Amy's muscles burned and she could barely breathe. She wiped sweat from her forehead, grimacing as she caught a glimpse of Alba nearby, who looked not much different from her, like she might collapse. Even Tallen, who had started with confident swagger, was breathing heavily.

[You're quite out of shape,] Libris observed as Amy gulped water from a flask she'd brought.

Amy tried to retort, but she could barely utter a few incomprehensible words.

"Recover and hydrate," Drayke instructed, giving them a brief respite. "Then gather for the theoretical portion."

When the students regathered, Drayke stood beside a large, circular platform that hadn't been there before. The stone disc, inlaid with various runes and sigils, glowed with a soft blue light.

"Combat in the magical world follows principles," Drayke began, pacing around the platform. "Understanding these principles is the difference between victory and failure—or life and death."

He held up his flesh hand, counting off on his fingers. "First principle: Know your core. Your magical reserves are finite. Expend them wisely.

“Second principle: Adapt to circumstances. The battlefield rarely favors your preferred style.

"Third principle: Assess your opponent. Know their strengths, anticipate their weaknesses.

"Fourth principle: Strategy trumps raw power. The strongest ability, poorly applied, will fall to a weaker one used intelligently.

"Fifth principle: Control is paramount. An uncontrolled strike may harm allies or yourself.”

As he spoke, the platform beside him illuminated with different colors and patterns, seemingly responding to his words. Students watched, transfixed by both his commanding presence and the visual display.

Jesus, why is everyone so theatrical here…? Am I watching a class or a late-night show?

"Many of you rely heavily on your special abilities," Drayke continued, his scarred face serious. "This is natural. These abilities are part of you. But understand this, overreliance creates vulnerability."

He gestured to the platform, which now showed a stylized figure channeling too much energy and collapsing.

"Magical burnout is real and dangerous. Push beyond your limits, and your core may take days, weeks, or even months to recover. In extreme cases, permanent damage can occur."

Amy shifted uncomfortably, remembering her recent experience in the nightmare.

"Now," Drayke said, his tone shifting, "we move to practical application. You will pair off for assessment matches. These are not duels to the death, but I recommend you to act as if they were."

He paused, scanning the room. "Some of you may wish to keep your abilities private. That is your right." His mechanical arm gestured toward the platform. "However, understand that hiding your capabilities significantly decreases your chances of victory. Your opponent might not be similarly constrained."

A murmur ran through the first-years at this.

"To be abundantly clear," Drayke added, his voice carrying easily over the whispers, "you can choose to fight without revealing your special ability, but expect to get your ass thoroughly handed to you. This is not a suggestion—it is mostly a certainty. The choice is yours. Privacy or victory? Few achieve both." He pulled a small crystal sphere from his pocket, which projected glowing names into the air. "I will now announce pairs for the assessment matches. When your name is called, step onto the platform. Each match has a five-minute limit or ends when one participant concedes or is incapacitated."

The first few pairs were called—mostly second-years matched against each other. Amy watched carefully as they fought, analyzing their styles and capabilities. Some relied heavily on their special abilities, while others demonstrated impressive physical combat skills.

One match particularly caught her attention—Iris Wright against another second-year boy whose name Amy didn't catch. Iris moved like lightning, her combat style so seamlessly blending physical strikes with her physical enhancement ability that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

[Notice how efficiently she uses her energy, the exact opposite of someone I know.]

“...” Amy did not register the comment, too busy observing the display. Even though she had gone through a lot of crazy stuff these past few days, watching magic was still somewhat surreal.

The match ended with Iris's opponent flat on his back, yielding with a pained grimace while the class applauded.

As the applause for Iris died down, Professor Drayke consulted his crystal sphere again.

"Amy Stake and Tallen Blackwood."

A ripple of excitement passed through the gathered students. Amy felt her stomach drop as whispers erupted around her.

"That's the Building B girl..." "I heard she took down three of those creatures by herself..."

Amy stepped forward with reluctance, her eyes finding Tallen across the circle. The boy's expression shifted from surprise to a barely concealed hesitation as he strode toward the platform. His dark hair was slicked back with sweat from the conditioning exercises, but he moved with the easy grace of someone coming from nobility.

"Stake," he acknowledged with a nod. "Heard you've been busy making a name for yourself."

If Amy wasn't so good at reading people, she wouldn't have noticed the hidden tension of his posture, he was nervous. Like someone who could not afford to lose.

Amy didn't respond, simply taking her position on the opposite side of the platform. The stone disc hummed beneath her feet, the runes along its perimeter beginning to glow brighter.

Professor Drayke stood at the edge of the platform. "Standard assessment rules apply. The barrier will activate once I step back—no strikes can penetrate it, so spectators are safe. The match ends with submission, incapacitation, or at the five-minute mark." His mechanical arm whirred as he gestured between them. "Begin when ready."

He stepped back, and a translucent blue dome shimmered into existence around the platform.