Doggone Academy

Silveryn finished her ritual bathing, wiped herself dry, and got dressed. She sent the maid back to where the carriage waited and proceeded to walk through the corridor that led away from the bathhouse.

At the end of the corridor, a large stone slab engraved with ancient characters blocked the way. Silveryn stretched out her hand. As her fingertips touched a specific point on the stone slab, space undulated like ripples.

It was the Curtain of the Nebula, a grand barrier. This was a magic that warped space, making it completely impossible for outsiders to intrude.

Spatial magic was believed to have been lost centuries ago, with all records destroyed, yet the Altar of the Stars had preserved its lineage away from the worlds eyes.

However, spatial magic was secondary. The most crucial art at the Altar of the Stars was astrology.

The altar could glimpse into the flow of human life through the stars. It could interpret growth, decline, life, death, and occasionally hints about lovers destined by fate.

The future could not be entirely known. Trying to comprehend the vastness of existence with human eyes was like studying a great rivers flow through a magnifying glass. The information gained from the Altar of the Stars could rarely change ones destiny.

Nonetheless, Silveryn wanted to know as much as possible about anything concerning Damian. Human affairs always tended to flow in unexpected directions, so even a speck of insight was crucial.

Before entering the altar, she paused briefly to dwell on old memories. Although it had been five years since her last visit, Silveryns recollections were as vivid as if they happened yesterday.

Silveryns past was marred by struggles to change what seemed like predestined fate. All those battles had ultimately failed, and the Altar of the Stars was where they had reached their end.

She was not keen on repeating that process a second time.

There was always a price for seeing the future. Beyond knowing it, should one try to alter the future, the cost would be enormous. And Silveryn had given up on paying that price.

It didnt matter if Damian was not to lead a heroic life.

It didnt matter if he was not to live a life revered by all, if his name would not be chronicled in history.

Even a fate where he barely clung to life as an insignificant man would suffice.

There was only one thing Silveryn wished for: that the destiny allotted to Damian was not so horrifically dire that it warranted changing the future.

***

Though the entire crowd was surging toward the entrance ceremony venue, Damian walked alone, going against the current in the opposite direction.

His shoulders kept bumping into people, and he received piercing stares each time, but Damian paid no mind.

Upon reaching the residential building, it was silent with no one around, the crowds having gone to the entrance hall.

As he passed through the residential buildings garden, Cecils words occasionally echoed in his head.

Why did I come to Eternia?

Would I feel fulfilled if I started as valedictorian and finished as valedictorian at the academy?

Being valedictorian at entrance means Ive achieved half the success. Yet his heart felt unfilled.

Even if he ascended the podium to receive everyones attention and respect, even amidst the applause and bouquets, nothing would change.

He couldnt grow intoxicated with his accomplishments. His past life and memories relentlessly hounded him every moment.

As Damian approached the Guardian Tree, a loud explosion resounded from behind.

He slowly turned his head and looked up.

Magic fireworks soared high into the sky, bursting forth in a display that intricately adorned the heavens.

The entrance ceremony had begun.

Damian left the festive celebration behind and stepped into the labyrinth.

***

Upon opening the Curtain of the Nebula and stepping into the undulating space, a fresh floral scent welcomed Silveryn.

The ash-gray clouds that had been dumping blizzards were gone, replaced by a clear blue sky and a warm breeze.

It was the delightful sun of spring. This alone told Silveryn that the lineage of the Altar of the Stars remained unbroken.

Neglected over a long period, seasonal magic would twist the magic formation beyond repair, making it extremely difficult to dispel, ultimately absorbing too much of the earths magic and reducing the world to desert.

In front of her was a massive sandstone barrier.

And in the center of the barrier stood an imposing statue so large one had to tilt their head back to take in its full height, solemnly guarding the gateway.

Silveryn walked into the portal.

Once she passed a long, dark passageway, the sight of a city destroyed centuries ago unfolded before her. Floating in the center of that city was a massive sky island that shadowed the land below by blocking the sunlight.

Thick chains woven into the land held the island attempting to rise through the clouds. This strange structure was impossible to reconstruct with todays magical knowledge.

And atop that island was the Altar of the Stars.

To ascend, one had to traverse the thousands of circular stairs leading up to the island.

Upon seeing the staircase, Silveryn sighed lightly.

Ah, still clinging to that antiquated tradition.

Magic could bypass the steps, but the laws stated that those seeking the Oracle had to ascend using the stairs. Given Silveryns resilience, it wasnt a major issue, but it was still a bothersome and tedious procedure.

She quietly muttered, thinking of the disciple shed left behind in Eternia.

When I return, Ill have to demand a lengthy leg massage.

***

Grace Mountain Range was smoothly sloped and organically connected, but there was an exception.

At one point of the finely stretched mountain range, there was a strangely indented basin. Centuries-old records said it appeared as if a giant had stepped wrongly, coining Giants Footprint for the place.

The unique trait of the basin wasnt its discordant topography alone. A powerful magical field of an unknown power source was formed within it. The magical pressure was so strong in the area that typical plants could not grow; only ancient species and rare ones that thrived on magical energy made up the flora.

It was too much for not only ordinary people but even magicians. Every year saw incidents of herb collectors and travelers, who ventured into the Giants Footprint lured by rare herbs, either fainting and being consumed by beasts or returning as imbeciles. Consequently, Giants Footprint was virtually forgotten, and over time it became known as The Forbidden Forest.

No random visitors had met with accidents in The Forbidden Forest since Eternia took its place and limited access to only a handful, sealing off the surrounding area.

Thanks to its unique history, The Forbidden Forest held significant interest for Azelis.

Being one of the rare few with permission, Azelis was walking through The Forbidden Forest. A powerful field had formed, forcing even those with strong resistance to encase themselves in artifacts that diminished the influence of magical pressure, like armor. Yet, Azelis felt no strain.

On the contrary, she removed all artifacts to taste the magic better and even went barefoot, wandering the forest. Even if countless skeletons were buried beneath the tree roots, to her, it was just a pleasant place for an outing.

For a moment, she thought of Damian. She wondered if he could withstand this level of magical pressure. Azelis hoped he could not. She could provide substantial help in acclimating to the magical pressure, and she wanted Damian to seek and rely on her assistance.

Imagining Damian struggling to adapt to the magical pressure, Azelis giggled by herself.

Feeling cheerful, Azelis started hopping like a child.

After following the compass for a while, she arrived at a clearing lush with green grass.

In the center of the field stood a small temple built of wood, starkly solitary. The edifice bore the marks of time, but it was well-maintained, devoid of a worn and dilapidated feel.

The sun, diffused by a heavy mist, gently touched down, creating an aura of mystique.

This was where the entrance ceremony for the Masters Class was being held.

With hands clasped behind her back, Azelis moved lightly toward the temple.

The interior of the temple was serene and modest.

There was nothing but the white statue of the goddess Acates and a few long wooden benches for worship.

No one here?

Despite the entrance ceremony time being imminent, the only person there was Azelis.

Tch.

Disheartened by ending up alone wherever she went, she was annoyed. Damian, who could be considered a peer, hadnt shown his face since leaving for the Thorn Garden the night before. She didnt know if hed snubbed the Masters Class to enjoy the glitzy festival.

Azelis slumped onto a bench. Then, leaning back against the backrest with her chin propped on her hands, she stared endlessly at the temple gate.

Only empty mist swirled beyond the wide-open door.

***

Lunas eyes lacked focus.

Her face had drained of blood, making her white dress resemble a shroud.

She crossed the forest barefoot. Wood bark and gravel embedded in her feet caused blood to trickle down, but Lunas face showed no trace of pain. Seemingly possessed by some unknown entity, she only shambled along like a puppet, her face hollow as if her soul had departed.

Where she passed, she left behind footprints as dark as if they had been painted with tar.

And in her hand, she still clutched the same dagger as before.

Thus Luna arrived in front of Eternias Guardian Tree.

A chilling smile spread across her face. Standing on the roots of the Guardian Tree, Luna raised her hands above her head and then plunged the dagger through the center of her left palm before withdrawing it.

Scarlet blood gushed forth, drenching her hair, her dress, and the roots of the Guardian Tree.

Oh shadow, oh shadow. Let us partake in the blood feast together.

Soon after, shadowy humanoid figures began to rise up around the Guardian Tree.

The blood-soaked Luna inverted the dagger and gripped it tightly with both hands. She then began to chant.

Swamp of chaos, mother of darkness. Savior of psy-entities. For the blood feast, I offer my virgin body. I shall host a banquet for the creations of chaos with my own flesh. My meat will fatten the maggots, my blood will quench the leeches, my innards will become bones for ghouls, and my spiritual power will nourish the darkness of wraiths. And my soul shall unite with psy-entities in the pits of hell.

Lunas lips parted slowly, as if under a spell, and she thrust the dagger into her own abdomen without hesitation.

The shadowy figures wavered and then transformed, taking on exact replicas of Lunas form. In their hands, they held identical daggers.

The shadowy figures surrounded the Guardian Tree and simultaneously pierced the tree trunk with their daggers.

Wherever the daggers stabbed, the tree turned inky black as though poison was spreading.

The brilliant silver leaves of the Guardian Tree withered slowly, and soon, the dead leaves started to fall, one by one.

With the dagger still embedded in her body, Luna collapsed forward, drained of strength.

***

In the midst of the labyrinth, Damian paused and flicked the compass off his palm. When he checked it again, nothing had changed. The compass needle wasnt fixed but swayed oddly from side to side.

Theres no way it broke already

It didnt stop there; the needle would sporadically point to random directions or spin like a top at times.

The compass always pointed steadily to its destination. This was a first. An unsettling premonition crept over Damian, and he bit his lip lightly.

The Forbidden Forest. The Forbidden Forest.

After shaking the compass several times, the needle finally settled on the correct direction. Although suspect, the compass at least ensured he would not aimlessly wander until he arrived somewhere to take measures.

Just hold on until after the entrance ceremony

Damian set off again in the direction the needle indicated.

After a while, forms of indeterminate identity emerged from deep within the mist. Scattered around the floor were various objects, and a faint pungent scent wafted by him.

Damian quickened his pace. The closer he got, the stronger the odor became.

Finally, he identified the scent. It was the smell of blood.

A sudden gust came from the direction the compass pointed. It was an unusual phenomenon he had never experienced before. The labyrinth was always a windless area.

Accompanying the wind was a cloud of red mist that began to consume the labyrinth.

Intuitively sensing something terrible unfolding, Damian swiftly flung himself into the red mist.

He hurried forth and closely examined the figures sprawled on the ground.

Damians breath halted for a moment when faced with the shocking scene.

A dozen masked librarians of the labyrinth lay scattered in all directions. Damian hastily approached one nearby to check on them.

They were long dead.

Their bodies were sticky with coagulated blood, and their skin bore holes as if punctured by a bodkin.

Soon, Damian felt a burning sensation on his left wristthe exact spot where he wore the bracelet. He lifted his left arm and turned back his sleeve.

The runes of the iron bracelet were responding to something, glowing intensely bright.

The words Erzebet had left when she enchanted the bracelet flashed through Damians head.

His heart started to pound as if it would burst.

Something was dreadfully amiss.

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