A soft, persistent buzzing tugged at the edges of consciousness, but a heavy numbness—almost pleasant in its completeness—kept my eyelids sealed shut. My body felt like it was floating in a hot tub.
"Thirty-three hours," came a crisp female voice directly to my right. Definitely Diana.
"Fine, he's on Ark for thirty-three hours, Di, and you've been at this the whole time." The male voice carried a note of smooth exasperation. "Is he worth it?"
"It's not like I summoned a Brine Tyrant to the city, Alexander." Diana's tone stayed maddeningly level. "Higher-class monsters are showing up more frequently. Someone should ask why."
Brine Tyrant. The words hit like a splash of cold water, dragging fragments of memory to the surface—searing heat, the metallic taste of blood, that massive crab exploding into a geyser of ooze. I cracked one eye open, squinting against even the bright light filtering through open curtains.
"You dodged my question," Alexander said with the practiced ease of someone used to calling out evasion.
Diana's soft sigh told me he'd scored a hit.
"Do you think you're worth it, Ben?" Her voice carried just enough weight to make my stomach clench. "Worth all the trouble to get you to my Academy?"
Even through the pleasant fog of whatever healing magic she was working, that question hit harder than the crab's claw had. My mind stumbled over the past day and a half—or was it longer now? Did I even have an answer that made sense?
"I… uh…" The words felt thick on my tongue. "I mean, I blew up a giant fucking crab, right? That counts for something, doesn't it?"
"You hear that, Alexander? He blew up a giant fucking crab." Diana's repetition carried just enough dry amusement to let me know she wasn't entirely serious.
A familiar burst of indignant chirping erupted from Alexander's direction.
"Shut up, Stanley," I muttered, finally forcing both eyes open.
The room came into focus slowly—my room at Doreen’s. Gentle afternoon light leaked around several layers of heavy curtains, and the persistent magical buzzing seemed to emanate from Diana herself. She sat beside the bed in a flowing white linen dress, her white grassy hair spilling over one shoulder as she held her hands in some complex mudra position above my chest. Warmth radiated from her palms, seeping into my bones and making my skin tingle pleasantly.
She smiled when our eyes met, and for a moment, her usual sharp edge softened into something almost maternal.
Alexander perched on the bedpost, his ornate armor seeming very out of place. Something about his dark eyes reminded me strongly of Doreen—family resemblance, maybe?
Stanley, in his bright canary form, had claimed the top of Alexander's head as his personal throne. The tiny bird wore what appeared to be a miniature wide-brimmed hat complete with a jaunty yellow ribbon.
"That's not what I meant." Alexander's voice carried the patient tone of someone explaining something obvious. "What you do with Lana is your business. But you've pissed off Maris, which means…"
"I know what it means. I'll meet with her." Diana's interruption was gentle but firm. She never stopped in the slow, methodical movement of her hands. "Ben, darling, do you enjoy politics?"
"Does anyone?" The answer came automatically.
"Ha! I'm glad you know the word." Her laugh held genuine warmth. "I simply saved you from months of bureaucratic cockfighting that would have happened when you arrived. Cultured people aren't suited to it."
Months of politics. The weight of that settled in my chest like a stone. As if learning magic and staying alive wasn't complicated enough, now I had to navigate whatever political minefield Diana had just dragged me into.
"Is that why my kind typically leaves?" I asked, trying to push myself up on my elbows. Pain shot through my collarbone like lightning.
"Stay down, stupid." Diana's sharp command carried an edge of genuine concern that surprised me.
The healing magic intensified, warmth flowing through my torso in waves that left goosebumps racing down my arms. It felt like liquid sunlight working its way through damaged tissue, knitting things back together with methodical precision.
Alexander's expression softened as he hopped down from the bedpost, his armor clattering softly as he picked his way across the quilt toward me. Stanley rode the motion like a tiny, hat-wearing surfer.
"Politics are why most people leave their worlds, Ben." His chuckle held genuine humor. "It seems your mentor here thinks she was doing you a favor. But she never thinks far enough ahead."
Another sigh escaped him—the sound of someone dealing with a familiar frustration.
"That's not why I'm here, though. It's simply a coincidence that Diana was close enough to provide healing after the Carapax were dealt with." He shot her a pointed look that earned him an irritated peep from Stanley. "I'm here to give you an accolade. As an Acolyte, you were Class-F—barely qualified to hunt mana beasts if the need arose. But you've defeated a Class-D monster, which is two full classes above your own." His gaze flicked to Diana again. “albeit with some help.”
"Not much, according to Erik," she snorted, never breaking the rhythm of her healing.
"Either way, this is an accomplishment worthy of commendation." Alexander produced one of those small, passport-like items I'd seen before at the entrance to the tower. "Place your hand on the Manascript, please."
I reached out carefully, my collarbone protesting every inch of movement, and pressed my palm against the smooth surface of one page.
"I didn't exactly defeat that thing," I said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth. "I just kind of blew it up with what I had available."
"Darling, if blowing up monsters didn't count, the Monster Hunters would be out of a job." Diana's chuckle carried genuine amusement.
"It's been a long time since I've given out this accolade," he said, reaching into what appeared to be empty air. His hand emerged with a large, ornate jade stamp that materialized as if he'd plucked it from an invisible pocket—something I'd seen Chas demonstrate. What did he call it—a mana sanctum?
The stamp's base gleamed with wet blue pigment that looked almost luminescent.
He pressed it firmly onto the opposite page of the booklet; the stamp was nearly too large for the space. The sound was satisfying—official, final. The blue ink seemed to pulse once before settling into ordinary pigment.
"Ben Crawford." His voice took on formal weight, each word deliberate. "The combined council of Monster Hunters recognizes you as a Breaker, and will afford all benefits that come with the title." He paused, meeting my eyes directly. "Reflect on what it means, Ben. This isn't just about strength—it's about responsibility, about understanding the weight of your actions. Get stronger, both in power and in purpose."
Breaker. The word settled into my chest like a physical thing—heavy, sharp-edged, carrying implications I couldn't quite grasp yet. It sounded dangerous, like something that left wreckage in its wake.
"An Acolyte and a Breaker in less than a day." Alexander shook his head with what might have been admiration or concern. "The last human who came through here started a brawl that lasted a week. She practically stormed off our world after that." A wistful note crept into his voice. "She could make ice cream, though. Refused to wear shoes."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
He stepped back and executed what was clearly meant to be an impressive dismount—a real acrobatic flip that should have landed him gracefully on the throw rug beside the bed.
Instead, the rug shot out from under his feet like it was greased, sending him tumbling backward in a tangle of armor and dignity. He hit the floor with a crash that rattled the trinkets on every surface.
Diana snorted—an undignified sound that somehow made her more human. I couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up despite the way it made my ribs protest.
"Dammit, Doreen!" Alexander's bellow carried genuine fury as he struggled to his feet, brushing at his backside with wounded pride. "You gods-forsaken clutter-mouse! Get your shit out of the Blackwood room!"
He stomped toward the door, nearly sliding again on what appeared to be an animal skin rug before giving up on dignity entirely and shoving a stack of crates out of his path with an irritated grunt.
"I'm going to go yell at my granddaughter for a while," he called over his shoulder. "Speak with your apprentice—but keep in mind the rules."
The door slammed behind him with enough force to make several objects fall from their shelves all over the room.
"This room looks like a noble family exploded in it," Diana muttered, her healing magic never faltering as her gaze swept the chaotic space. Rich tapestries fought for wall space with gilded mirrors, while mismatched furniture—everything from delicate ivory chairs to a massive oak wardrobe—seemed to wage territorial wars across every available inch. "You never really get used to how the Russets manage to cram every shiny thing they own into their homes."
"Russets?" I asked, following her gaze around the overwhelming display. The name fit perfectly—everything here seemed to embrace deep, earthy tones offset by ridiculously ornate clutter. Even Doreen and Alexander themselves had that warm, reddish-brown complexion that matched the name. "Like the potato?"
Diana arched an eyebrow. "Like the color."
I laughed, then immediately winced as my ribs reminded me they weren't fully healed yet. Diana sighed, her expression shifting to something more focused—less conversational, more clinical.
"Hold still." She made a sharp, precise gesture with both hands.
My ribs exploded with pain.
Every muscle in my torso locked up as I bit clean through my tongue, tasting copper while what felt like molten metal poured through my bones. The sensation was indescribable—like someone had threaded live wire through my skeleton and then hit the switch. For one endless second, agony consumed everything.
Then warmth. Deep, soothing calm that left me gasping.
"Shit." Diana's voice carried genuine remorse as she moved her hand to my cheek, fingers tracing a distinct pattern in the air. Cool relief flooded my mouth instantly—like a magical mouthwash, washing away the metallic taste and leaving everything minty-clean. "The first time bone healing feels like pissing razor blades. Should have warned you."
I worked my jaw experimentally, amazed that everything felt normal again. "That was—"
"Healing flesh wounds is quite pleasant," she continued, settling back into her chair. "But knitting bones touches a little close to the runic root of death."
I stared at her. "You can't just casually mention 'death magic' to a guy who's only known magic exists for thirty-three hours. Plus or minus a week."
Diana snickered, the sound surprisingly girlish coming from someone so intimidatingly competent. "I'm your mentor. It's my job to teach you about the scary shit."
"Fine, I'll unpack death magic later." I tried sitting up again, relieved when nothing protested. "If Doreen's a Russet, what's Lana?"
"Graceful Gods, you have the attention span of a gnat." Diana leaned back, cracking her knuckles with systematic precision. "Doreen is a Russet Vildar, Lana's an Albinus. And yes, as you might imagine, they don't always get along."
"So you're a healer?" I asked, flexing my fingers and marveling at the complete absence of pain.
"I dabble." Her expression hardened slightly. "Remember when I said I hoped you wouldn't do something crazy? Blowing up a fucking Brine Tyrant in the middle of the city with lantern orbs is pretty. Fucking. Crazy, Ben."
Her eyes held genuine disappointment—the kind that made you feel like a kid who'd just broken something irreplaceable. For a moment, I thought she might actually throw me off her world.
Then she smiled. "Put on some fucking armor next time. You're not Chas."
My turn to scoff. "Diana, Alexander said it himself—I've been here less than a day! I literally have no possessions beyond the clothes I'm wearing. Whose ass am I supposed to pull armor from?" I paused, frowning. "Wait, how is thirty-three hours less than a day?"
She blinked at me, then roared with laughter—the kind of full-bodied sound that made her seem younger somehow.
"I think you and I are going to get along."
She stood and crossed the cluttered room in two long strides, reaching for what looked like a glass basketball sitting on an ornate side table. The orb pulsed with vibrant blue light, shot through with red flecks that swirled and drifted like embers suspended in deep water. Just looking at it made my skin tingle—some primal part of me recognizing the raw energy contained within.
"Thirty-six hours in a day, sixty minutes in an hour, sixty seconds to a minute." She tossed the orb casually from hand to hand, apparently unconcerned by the power thrumming through it. "Sound familiar?"
"Incredibly." I couldn't take my eyes off the thing. It seemed to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat, and I swear I could feel it through whatever passed for my aura—like standing too close to a high-voltage line. "What is it?"
"This here is a mana core. A big one." Diana cradled it like a parent might hold a precious but dangerous child. "Pulled it from the stinking pile of ooze that used to be your Brine Tyrant. You could theoretically use it to expand your mana pathways, but it would most likely kill you instantly." Her grin turned predatory. "Good thing it's worth an assload of money."
My heart jumped. "Enough to get to the Empire and get home?"
Diana pursed her lips, the gesture somehow conveying both consideration and gentle letdown. "It might cover the boat trip, but then you'd be pretty fucked. I've got a better idea, but I'm waiting for a message from a friend. Be patient—I'm sure you'll like the results."
The hope that had flared in my chest guttered out, leaving behind familiar frustration. Of course, one giant crab wasn't going to solve all my problems. That would have been too easy.
"Oh, before I forget!" Diana reached into empty air and produced a small wooden box, its surface carved with intricate patterns. "Put this on the other side of your vest."
Inside lay a golden pin-badge shaped like an ornate 'S'. It was heavier than I'd expected and warm to the touch.
"You're a Breaker now, which is kind of a big deal for your training." Diana's tone carried extra weight, like she was finally taking my potential seriously. "I have several requests to help train you—most notably from Erik Winters himself."
“What’s a Breaker exactly?” I asked.
“Someone who’s slain a Class-D monster while still an Initiate. It’s rare, not just because its difficult to pull off but catastrophically stupid to even attempt.” Diana explained.
The mana core vanished into whatever pocket dimension she'd pulled the box from. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head before fixing me with that sharp, calculating stare I was beginning to recognize as her default expression.
"How did you know Stanley was Fenghuang—a Phoenix?" Her voice stayed carefully mild, but her eyes gleamed with the intensity of someone testing a theory they desperately wanted confirmed.
"Are you sure you're ready to hear the answer to that?" I shot back, not wanting to miss an opportunity to repay her evasiveness in kind.
"Oh, fuck off." Diana's chuckle held genuine amusement. "It's for Stanley. Do you have any idea how long it took me to talk him down? He was absolutely elated that Terrans knew of his kind. I thought the insufferable animal might actually explode from pride."
"Stories," I said simply, then paused as the full weight of it hit me. "Millions of stories about every kind of imaginable thing. Magic, mythical creatures, gods, planets, space travel—whatever we could dream up, we wrote about it. Turns out most of our 'fiction' was just... great at guessing."
Diana's expression shifted, like she was seeing me with entirely fresh eyes. "Graceful gods," she murmured. "Don't tell Stanley—the world already struggles to contain his ego as it is."
I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, then froze as a draft reminded me of something important. Looking down at myself, then back up at Diana, I felt heat creep up my neck.
She rolled her eyes, barely suppressing a smirk. "Ben, I've already seen everything, remember? Back in the tower and then less than eighteen hours ago when I was keeping you from bleeding out." She waved dismissively, as if modesty was a quaint concept she'd outgrown years ago.
I reached for my clothes—my single set of clothes—grateful for something to do with my hands. Diana continued. "Erik told me you were practically fearless last night. He—"
"Are you the reason I'm here, Diana?" I interrupted, pulling my vest on with perhaps more force than necessary. "Everyone seems to think you pulled some wild political moves to get me into your Academy. Those runes that saved me... how I got here. Was that you?"
Diana looked at me like I was an idiot. "Ben, if I could Runebind the way you described it to Felix, I'd have left this world ages ago." Her laughter faded as she leaned forward, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. "The truth is, we have no fucking idea what that was. I have some theories, but..." She raised a finger in warning. "Rules are rules for a reason. I don't want unfounded rumors spreading across every Manascript on the planet."
"Those manascripts—they're like communication devices?" I asked, grateful for safer conversational ground.
Diana raised an eyebrow. "They're called gadgets, but yes. Techno-magic invention from the Sable Shroud. They're cheap, use virtually no mana, but are limited in range. Nothing like display tables." She tilted her head with curious interest. "Do you have something similar?"
"Sort of... but we don't use magic to make them work. Just good old-fashioned science." I couldn't help but grin at her expression. "Though ours can communicate in real time across the entire planet. Instantaneously."
Diana scoffed, shaking her head in what might have been disbelief or admiration. "Fuck, that sounds like magic to me." She stood, brushing invisible lint from her dress. "I think I can answer one more question before I have to unleash your adoring fans."
"My what?" The words came out sharper than I'd intended.
"Ben, it's not every day an Unbidden shows up, joins the Monster Hunters on a whim, then saves a whole city from a particularly nasty monster." Her smile turned predatory. "Word travels fast when someone makes that kind of splash."
Fair enough. I should have seen that coming.
"Okay, fine. Then, onto my question—"
"You already asked it, and it was stupid." Diana's smirk could have cut glass. "Now, let's go meet your adoring public."
Oh, I was definitely going to get her back for that.