So far, Vyrrak’s emotions have been less intense than one might expect, given that he has been effectively forced to attend a Class he clearly despises.

  Yet, the moment this woman, Guinevere—his wife—entered the classroom, everything changes.

  Vyrrak walks up to her in disbelief. I can see a plethora of emotions among which confusion and surprise are among the most evident; yet, above all, there’s a loving gaze that is hard to describe.

  “Guinevere, what are you doing here, darling?” Vyrrak says in a soft voice before turning an incinerating eye to Vice Principal Caradoc.

  “I was told you were not studying and properly attending Classes, my dear husband,” Guinevere says, taking Vyrrak’s hands in hers. “I was worried that you might be feeling homesick and I wanted to visit.”

  Vyrrak sighs and shakes his head, pulling her closer.

  “No, that’s not… you were tricked into coming here by the Vice Principal. He just wants me to change my Class. He and my father want me to be a Breaker, not a Dagger.”

  Oh? That sounds like an essential tidbit of information about what’s actually going on. And it makes perfect sense. Dragonkins are renowned for their overwhelming power—much more than Highbloods and Infernals, who excel in other fields. Overwhelming magical and physical power are the traits that the Dragonkin inherited by their winged ancestors, the Dragons.

  “Is this true?” Guinevere turns with a frown toward Vice Principal Caradoc.

  “I fear that there might some truth to that. But I did not lie in saying that your husband has not been studying and practicing properly, Miss Guinevere.”

  “Queen Guinevere,” Vyrrak says, narrowing his eyes. “She’s not a student. You shall address her properly.”

  “My bad, my bad. My old age makes me forgetful,” Vice Principal Caradoc says with an apologetic smile.

  There’s something fishy about the Vice Principal. He seemed so sweet and nice at the beginning—not at all like the kind of man who kicks out his entire classroom.

  “Old man, you’re crossing a line and you know it!” Vyrrak roars, with a large vein pulsating on his forehead.

  “Vyrrak, calm down. I just asked your wife to come here in order for you to understand the stakes at play. Your education is a serious matter that you’re not treating with the due diligence.”

  “Old man Caradoc is a close friend of my father,” Vyrrak tells Guinevere, ignoring the Vice Principal. “That’s why he’s so hell-bent on making me a Breaker. He’s essentially following orders—that bastard is still hounding me even now. He can’t stand the thought of his son, a Dragonkin, being anything other than a Breaker.”

  Vyrrak almost never raises his voice, and he’s doing it now., I notice. He’s the most composed of all the Champions. Even though this is a personal matter, he wouldn’t react like this if the Vice Principal wasn’t coercing him. Vice Principal Caradoc has been acting all meek and agreeable, but… I trust Vyrrak much more than I trust him. I just wish King Baalrek hadn’t told me that without Vice Principal Caradoc there’s no way for me to master one of the three gifts I was left with.

  “Queen Guinevere,” Jacob says, getting up and reaching Vyrrak and his wife. “I’m Jacob Cloud, the Fake Champion and the Guide of the Champions. Your husband, Vyrrak, is a fellow Champion of mine. He has been nothing but an example to every student for his relentless practice and his judgment. I personally wouldn’t have the position I find myself in if it wasn’t for him. My respect for your husband is boundless and I would stake my own name on his honor.”

  Vyrrak looks surprised at my declaration and I catch Vice Principal Caradoc raising an eyebrow at me.

  “Thank you, Jacob,” Vyrrak sighs and nods at me and then turns to his wife. “Guinevere, you shouldn’t have come. They’re just trying to entangle you with politics. You should go back to our vill—kingdom, sorry. I meant kingdom.”

  Guinevere approaches Vyrrak and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek, caressing his face.

  “My hot pancake, I suspected they were lying on your name, but I wanted to see you. Taking the Vice Principal’s lies as an excuse to visit my husband is not a problem.”

  I almost double over at hearing this woman call Vyrrak, one of the most feared individuals in my year, her hot pancake.

  He’s not really pancake-y, is he? Are pancakes hard and scaly? He’s hot in the sense that his fire is really hot but…

  I realize that I better not think too much about this and try to actually remove it completely from my mind.

  I almost laugh, but I swallow it.

  Vice Principal Caradoc stands in front of us.

  I need Vice Principal Caradoc’s help with one of King Baalrek’s gifts.

  Without the Infernal King on my side no more, I can’t afford to leave any power on the table. If I’m careless, if anything is not accounted for or just carelessly brushed aside, I’ll fall behind.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  I watch Vice Principal Caradoc attentively, as much as one can someone who’s centuries old from the little experience of my life. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the man is not pleased by Vyrrak and Guinevere.

  I don’t know why, though. But he doesn’t want to see them together.

  There’s a glint in his eyes that betrays his calm countenance.

  I grit my teeth, hoping to extricate myself from all of this.

  King Baalrek said that Vice Principal Caradoc is the key for me to learn his ultimate technique—to gain bones as he put it.

  I unconsciously touch my face, remembering the appearance of King Baalrek and the power he wielded.

  * * *

  Vice Principal Caradoc looks up at the big clock on the wall. The brass hands crawl toward the end of the period, but not fast enough.

  “There is still time before the main event of this lesson,” he says. “We can do something useful.”

  Caradoc looks at Jacob.

  “Since you are here, Jacob Cloud, I will submit a little test to you. I heard you passed the Runic Notation class with full marks.”

  Jacob grimaces at that.

  “Not sure I’d call it full marks, Professor Caradoc. It was…”

  “Full marks, Jacob,” Vice Principal Caradoc says. “It’s definitely full marks in my books. You exposed a fraud and, by doing that, helped the Academy. I can’t imagine a better way to pass a course.”

  Vyrrak’s head snaps toward Jacob. He has heards of the incident and therefore he wonders why Vice Principal Caradoc wants to test Jacob on this exactly.

  Vice Principal Caradoc lifts his hand.

  Two fist-sized clouds of fire puff into existence in front of the whiteboard. They float there, steady and bright. A thin line of flame stretches between them. Runes begin to form along that line. They do not come in one neat sequence. They spiral and hook and branch until a full diagram hangs in the air, a glowing lattice that slowly rotates.

  A neat little Silver-rank Fireball pattern. At least, that is what it looks like to Vyrrak.

  “Since you understand Notation so well,” Vice Principal Caradoc says, “cast this simple Fireball for me. It should be trivial for you.”

  Jacob stares at the diagram.

  The lines look simple at first view. Outer intake spiral, compression node, ignition arc, a couple of stabilization loops around his External Heart Veins. It passes for a Silver Skill if you just take a glance at it.

  Jacob shakes his head. “I can’t cast that, Professor Caradoc.”

  Vyrrak’s jaw drops. “What? Jacob, that thing is baby stuff.” He squints at the diagram. He could probably throw a dozen of those in a row without even panting.

  Vice Principal Caradoc’s eyebrows rise a fraction. “You refuse?” He does not sound offended. He sounds curious.

  Jacob keeps his eyes on the runes. “It is not a Silver Fireball,” he says. “If I try to cast it as if it is, we will redecorate the building.”

  Vyrrak snorts. “Come on. Even I can see that is—”

  Jacob steps closer.

  He raises his right hand. Thin threads of his mana curl out and hook into the fire-lines of the diagram. He does not change anything yet. He just nudges the structure gently, like someone who tests a chair before sitting. The runes respond. They flex. They reveal the stress lines under the surface.

  Vyrrak’s eyes widen.

  Up close, with the pattern reversed, even he can see it. The “simple” spiral blossoms into layered loops. The compression nodes stack on three levels instead of one. The stabilization mesh turns into a dense cage of micro-runes. There are secondary ignition arcs that link back into the intake and a kill-switch coil that sits hidden behind everything else.

  The pattern stops being “baby stuff” and becomes a maze that makes his head spin.

  By the time Jacob’s finished unfolding the diagram, the temperature in the class has risen by many degrees.

  “By the ancestors…” Vyrrak mutters. He takes a step back. “What is that?”

  “Professor Caradoc,” Jacob says, “this is a True Diamond pattern folded to look like a Silver skill. It’s a mirrored pattern. I knew you were ruthless in your standards for the classroom—but I didn’t imagine you’d try and kill a student.”

  Vice Principal Caradoc watches the whole thing without blinking. His gaze stays fixed on Jacob’s hands. When the diagram comes to rest again, he lets the silence stretch for one long heartbeat.

  Then he smiles.

  It is not a warm smile. It is sharp and bright, and it puts more pressure in the room than any roar.

  “Well done, Jacob. Of course, I would have stopped you if you tried to actually cast that,” Vice Principal Caradoc says, waving a hand and sighing. “It’s against my oath to try and kill a student like this.” He glances at the clock again and raises an eyebrow as if he likes what he sees. “This alone earns my trust and my help. You have true talent, Jacob Cloud.”

  He clasps his hands behind his back and his smile widens. “I will love to help you. Whatever your request is for, considered it done.”

  Before Jacob can even thank the man, the classroom door slams open.

  Another Dragonkin strides in.

  She has fully black scales that shine like polished obsidian. Her eyes sweep the room once and fix on Vyrrak.

  Guinevere has been standing close to Vyrrak. Until now she has looked calm and composed and quietly happy to be by her husband’s side. The instant she sees the black-scaled Dragonkin, that calm shatters.

  Her expression darkens like a storm rolling in.

  Jacob, who hasn’t even imagined that Guinevere could be a fighter, widens his eyes at seeing a large silvery broadsword appearing in the brown-haired woman’s hand.

  “Syrraxia,” she shouts. “You whore, what are you doing here?! I’ll kill you for good today!”

  He is stunned by how vulgar the angelic Guinevere suddenly becomes. A minute ago she was kissing Vyrrak’s cheek and calling him her hot pancake. Now…

  Vyrrak restrains his wife, hugging her waist and holding her from assaulting the other Dragonkin.

  Syrraxia does not flinch. She lifts her chin and looks straight at Vyrrak. “I am here to marry you,” she says. “Your father decreed that your current marriage will be voided if you do not pass Fire Manipulation 201 today. You had three months. As a Dragonkin, you should have passed this course on the first day.”

  Vyrrak goes rigid. His tail freezes mid-flick. Guinevere’s hands curl into fists so tight her knuckles pale under her scales.

  Vice Principal Caradoc’s eyes gleam. This is clearly the “main event” he mentioned.

  Jacob drags a hand down his face and covers his eyes for a moment.

  There are sparks, metaphorically, flying in the class and Jacob sighs, wondering, will I actually get to learn anything today?