Structure.

  The second Major Arcana, formally designated as the Arcana of Structures, Systems, and Frameworks, governs the underlying principles by which levels, classes, and structured skills manifest. It is tied to the very fabric of the world. It is intrinsic, and arises naturally as the collective consciousness of sentient beings coalesces over time.

  Though born of the world itself, this Arcana is overseen by the gods, for the gods themselves are manifestations of the collective belief of those who believe and venerate them.

  One of the primary advantages of this Arcana is its learning curve. Among the three Major Arcana, it is the easiest to comprehend, presenting a clear and structured path for practitioners and followers.

  Because of this historically, it became a cornerstone of the Order’s power, until the cataclysm known as the Breaking, when the gods withdrew from our world.

  The potential strength attainable within this Arcana varies according to classes available to an individual, yet it is widely held that its ceiling of power is great, even reaching extreme levels.

  The sole true limitation of this Arcana lies in the something called experience. It is acquired through consistent engagement with the principle and concept this Arcana embodies. Practice.

  A baker, for instance, cannot spontaneously acquire hunting skills—unless a god deliberately interfere for only, they have the power to do so; mastery demands deliberate, consistent, persistent effort.

  It is within this rigorous yet simple framework that the Arcana’s greatest appeal emerges: it provides a level playing field for its practitioners, granting opportunity to those willing to undertake the path.

  Early practitioners found that combat was the most efficient means to accrue experience—a revelation that led the scholars of the Order to profound and unfortunately disturbing realization.

  In the early stages of this Arcana’s study, followers were imparted with a singular and harrowing truth: the “Red Truth.”

  When one kills another being—regardless of circumstance—the experience of the deceased is transferred to the victor. This phenomenon, was understood retrospectively as a transference of fragments of the soul, as experience, revealed both the Arcana’s profound potential and its peril.

  Recklessness, Erratic behavior, altering of personality. Just the few symptoms of soul poisoning, an affliction when one casually gathers experience at a rapid pace, through combat.

  What these practitioners were doing, was essentially polluting their very souls with fragments of the souls they slew. Pieces that were hostile to them.

  Misinterpretation of this mechanism gave rise to the abhorrent practice of murder as well as human sacrifices to appease the gods. It led to a series of events that ultimately contributed to their withdrawal and the subsequent abandonment of our world’s system.

  For this Arcana, it’s greatest strength, ultimately became its biggest weakness.

  -excerpt from, Magic: Our Lies, Our Secrets, Our Truths, Volume 3, by Ursula de Martine, Teacher, Historian, Mentor, and member of the Order.

  Editor’s Note: The following excerpt has been translated from the original manuscript dated 1075 CE.

  ========================================================================

  Chatting with the girls was—well, fun, I suppose. Not as fun as if I was talking with the boys, but still fun enough that I wasn’t bored. A few moments later a woman who bore a resemblance to Shizuku sat down at the table behind me. I was going to ask her if she knew that woman.

  That is, until someone practically slammed their plate down beside me and dropped into the chair with enough force to make it groan in protest as if they were declaring war on the furniture. Reika’s entrance practically startled everyone.

  She sent me a glare, complete with small droplets of tears in her eyes.

  “So, how we feeling?” I asked nonchalantly.

  I suppose my smug smile didn’t help because her glare intensified. She grabbed me by the collar and started wailing.

  “Ae! Nana baa-san just cut off my allowance!” she moaned, clutching my collar and shaking it like it owed her money. “For an entire month!”

  I was about to reply when I noticed something—just above her forehead, a little past her hairline, was a suspiciously raised bump.

  “Touch,” I said, and lightly pressed a finger against it.

  “Ow! Ae!” she yelped, instantly letting go of me and clutching her head.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “This is funny to me. Positively hilarious.”

  “Now what am I going to do for the rest of the trip?” she groaned piteously.

  I reveled in her suffering while the girls gave me that look — the universal “you’re a terrible person” glare, a facial expression all women seem to master by instinct.

  Despite me still giving her a very pointed look, she somehow managed to notice the suspiciously wrapped items on her friends’ plates. She looked to her best friend for answers.

  The traitor smiled sweetly. “Oh, he gave us some chocolate,” she said—while very helpfully pointing a finger at me.

  Reika, true to form, grabbed my hand and shook it with the enthusiasm of someone trying to win a handshake competition. We stared at each other, neither one backing down — like two idiots locked in a contest I certainly didn’t ask for.

  Instead of lecturing her friend on manners, however, Shizuku kicked me squarely in the shin.

  “Just give her one already,” she said flatly.

  I sighed deeply, rubbing the spot she struck, after that I looked at one of the biggest sources of my aneurysm.

  “Rai, what am I going to do with you?” I asked tiredly, handing her a piece of chocolate.

  “Hmm… let’s see,” she said, pretending to think. “How about feed me, love me, and never leave me?”

  “What if I bury you instead?” I countered, deadpan.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she replied without missing a beat. I could only seethe at her fearless grin, praying my aneurysm didn’t collapse into a singularity.

  Fortunately, the talks with everyone prevented that from happening. And eventually our talks shifted from my relations to my two childhood friends, to my hobbies. Shizuku wasn’t kidding when she said this was going to be an interrogation. The four newcomers seemed to have an endless supply of questions.

  Of course, I asked my share of questions too. From what I learned, two of Suzu’s friends hadn’t come along because one of them had fallen sick, and the other because she nobly volunteered to stay behind, fulfilling her duty as class president. Admirable if I do say so.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  Among the four, Airi and I surprisingly shared a hobby, reading novels. We were already deep in discussion about our favorites — hers were the ones written by Reika’s mom, while mine leaned more toward the popular kind, including a few web novels — when one of her friends suddenly cut in.

  I also shared some trivia about my country. Like the best noodle dish which is only found in the north. or best place to travel to. And some trivia about other countries. Like Canada’s national sport, is literally just people committing assault on one another, and then they get to go in one tiny box for a few minutes, to rest for a bit and go back out and do it again.

  Fun times.

  “So, why do you know German?” Aiko asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

  I shrugged.

  “No doubt these two already told you I know the organizers?” I said, nodding toward Thelma and Louise. The others nodded, so I continued. “Uncle Konrad, he’s practically the one who forced me to learn it. Said it ‘builds character.’”

  “You two are pretty close then?” Airi asked. “You’re allowed to call him uncle?”

  “Something like that,” I replied casually. “He was a close friend of my grandfather’s. And judging by the text my father sent me last night, that tradition’s apparently going to continue.”

  “How many languages do you know, Vi-kun?” Suzu inquired, her curiosity about as bright as her personality.

  “I am fluent in five, aside from Japanese, English and German, there are also my country’s’ language and French,” I replied, not trying to brag. I looked at their expression, from the looks in their eyes, they seemed to demand an explanation.

  “I assume you all know how difficult it is for Japanese learners?” I said politely before continuing. “English shares a lot of vocabulary with French, and the grammar’s simpler — the hard part is pronunciation. German is sort of the opposite the pronunciation is clearer and more defined, but the grammar’s the confusing part.”

  “I also know a bit of Mandarin, but not enough to be conversational, the characters are what’s getting to me,” I finished, leaning back in my seat.

  Airi gave me a suspicious look with one eyebrow raised, like she wasn’t all that convinced. I shrugged at her.

  “Being fluent in how many languages is not a big of a deal,” I said as clearly as I could. “My brother is fluent in three, while My mother and father are fluent in three and is conversational in Mandarin. Remy is also fluent in five. Uncle Konrad and Uncle Diocletian are fluent in seven. Christopher Lee is fluent in five and is also good with another five, bringing his language count to ten!”

  “Who’s Christopher Lee?” Shizuku asked, confused, but I ignored her, which earned me a light kick on my shin. How dare she not recognize the greatest human being that ever lived, Saruman the white.

  “Hmm, maybe we are the weird ones?” Suzu mused. “There seem to be a lot of people who know multiple languages.”

  “Suzu don’t say that,” Aiko said conspiratorially. “It would feel like he won.”

  I chuckled at their antics. Mostly because I do feel like I won. Or maybe I feel smug. Yeah, I do feel smug.

  “Where did you even find the time to learn all of that?” Shizuku asked curiously. “It’s hard enough keeping up with my schedule as it is. Or don’t tell me that’s the reason why you didn’t visit for an entire year?”

  Before I could answer, the other table — where the boys were sitting — suddenly erupted in laughter. We all turned to look at them. Arthur was pounding the table with his hand, while my brother was shaking his head, shoulders trembling uncontrollably as he tried to hold it in.

  “To answer your question,” I said slowly, bringing Shizuku’s attention back to me, “I actually did have time to learn all that. Believe it or not, it’s just a matter of time management, comprehension, and skills with practice.”

  That and I started young, but they don’t need to know any of that.

  “Ae! Speaking of skills—Shizuku got promoted last March!” Reika interjected excitedly. “She’s now fourth dan!”

  Fourth dan in Kendo, as a high schooler? That was rare. I turned to Shizuku, impressed. She met my gaze with a proud, maybe even slightly smug, smile.

  Is it weird that I want to slap her face? Maybe not, but I was genuinely impressed with her achievement.

  “So, it’s time to fulfill your promise,” Reika continued.

  I turned to her, confused. What promise?

  “Don’t tell me you forgot, Ae?” she said, feigning outrage and shaking her head. “The promise that you’d treat us to something fancy if she managed it.”

  Was there such a promise? I racked my brain. It was on the tip of my tongue. Everyone at the table was staring at me expectantly. I had to say something.

  “Uh—how about two out of three?”

  The reaction was immediate. Weirdly enough.

  Reika’s jaw dropped. “Two out of three!? Ae this is not math!”

  Airi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she’d just witnessed a crime against logic. Shizuku, meanwhile, simply gave me the dead-eyed stare.

  Suzu was the first to recover—by laughing. “Vi-kun, that’s cheating! You can’t just make up new promises!”

  “I second that!” Aiko chimed in, slapping the table for emphasis. “That’s not how promises work!”

  “Of course they can, I adapted, and now I am improvising, give it some time and I will overcome,” I replied nonchalantly. “I’m very adaptable. Resourceful even!”

  Another round of complaints came my way, which naturally drew the eye of everyone in the hall.

  “Look,” I said, holding up my hands defensively. “I’m just negotiating with reality here, no need to get violent.”

  “You’re impossible,” Aika muttered, shaking her head with a small smile, possibly laced with scorn.

  “And yet, somehow, lovable,” I said with a straight face.

  “Debatable,” Shizuku replied immediately.

  “You wound me,” I said, my brows furrowing as I clutched a hand dramatically to my chest. “Here—Gah!”

  Reika, being Reika, grabbed a handful of my hair, without rhyme or reason and yanked it back like she was ringing a church bell.

  “Wait! I remember now!” I blurted out as the pain on my head subsided and clarity settled in my mind.

  I turned to her, pointing an accusing finger. “There was never an us part in my promise. I said, I would treat her to something fancy.”

  My gaze sharpened. Little Miss Priss was trying to sneak her way into a free dinner.

  “Tsk.”

  “What the hell is that tongue click for!?” I demanded.

  “So, just you and her?” Aika asked leadingly. Her tone dripping with implication and a sly smile tugging at her lips. “That’s a date, then?”

  The way the others leaned in, their collective attention zeroing in on me, was almost suffocating.

  “No?” I said, blinking in confusion. “I said I’d treat her to something fancy, not escort her.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun,” Aika sighed, pouting just enough to make the others giggle.

  All except Reika, who was pouting for an entirely different reason. A rebuttal was right at the tip of my tongue—then an idea struck.

  “Ooh! Ooh! Wait! Idea!” I said enthusiastically. All eyes turned toward me. “I could buy you a car!”

  The table went dead silent for a solid ten seconds. You could practically hear the gears in their heads grind to a halt. All of them were looking at me like I was something weird like a barking duck.

  “Why would I want a car!?” Shizuku finally blurted when she regained brain function.

  “I thought you didn’t want to treat her because of the bill,” Aika said, completely baffled. “How in the world is buying her a car better!?”

  “Why don’t you want a car?” I asked, genuinely confused. These people are weird. Then I paused. “Oh, right, I forgot. You don’t even know how to ride a bike.”

  “I can ride a bike!” she snapped, cheeks puffing up.

  “No, you don’t,” I replied calmly. “Why do you lie? What made you lie?”

  “I just haven’t had the time to practice!” Shizuku shot back, her face now turning a deep shade of crimson.

  “Ae, we were talking about treating Shizuku to something fancy,” Reika said slowly, confusion creasing her brow. “How did you get from that to buying her a car?”

  I paused and genuinely thought about it.

  “Honestly? I have no idea,” I admitted with complete confidence. “I just thought about it. But considering a used car goes for, what, five hundred thousand yen or so? That’s still cheaper than what we spent partying last night.”

  I raised my glass toward the boys, who’d clearly been eavesdropping. The girls turned just in time to see Arthur and the rest grin and raise their own glasses in perfect unison.

  “Such fun people,” I muttered.

  “Vi-kun,” Suzu said, her tone suddenly adopting the authority of a disappointed mother, “I think you’re being too wasteful with your money.”

  Weirdly enough, that seemed to be the signal for everyone to start talking at once. Again. Complaints, grumbles, and half-hearted scoldings erupted like a miniature corgi rebellion or like being caught in a verbal typhoon.

  They said things like I was disappointing, or me being despicable, dishonorable or me being horrible, a man who breaks his promises. The enemy of women. Also, someone (I think Reika) shouted something about being hungry and wanting wagyu, which felt only—tangentially—related—at most.

  Without anyone noticing, I drew on my power, a single drop, and all the sounds dissolved into nothing. I was happy and content to let their words wash over me in peace.

  Dammit! I forgot I could read lips.

  While I debated whether closing my eyes would make them talk more, a light tap landed on my shoulder. I turned around to see the woman resembling Shizuku standing behind me.

  Without a word, she gestured for Suzu to move over and make some space. Startled, Suzu blinked, nodded, and moved her chair aside.

  The woman calmly placed a chair where Suzu had been sitting and lowered herself into it with all the grace and composure of royalty. Then she turned to me and her previously serene expression sharpened into that of a hawk sizing up its prey.

  That look. Don’t I know her from somewhere?

  “We haven’t been formally introduced. I am Mochizuki Tsukiyo, Shizuku’s mother,” she said in a voice that was soft yet, made her sound a bit younger.

  It felt like the whole room was silent all of a sudden.

  I looked at the aforementioned daughter. She had conveniently covered her face with both of her hands.

  Wait, this would mean that she is Kuuko baa-san’s daughter? Another scion of crazy house?

  I suppose it is rude to think that.

  Wait could this be God’s way of letting me get back at her daughter? It looks like the Gods haven’t given up on me yet! Oh, this is going to be fun.

  “Vi-kun,” Tsukiyo said sweetly, folding her hands atop her lap. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

  …The fuck?