Millie had never heard anything as torturous as Catherine’s blood-curdling scream of agony. It was made all the worse by the intermittent sobbing punctuated by her loud prayers to God, begging for help.

I should have said something about casting without a Foci, Millie admonished herself, but I didn’t think something like this would happen! Please, God—please tell me the healing pools will help her. Please!

Millie would have gladly traded places with the girl to ease her pain. Hell, she knew what Backlash like this felt like, and the situation brought the memory of phantom pain to her hands even now. Why the hell was it so much easier to bear pain yourself than to hear it in others? Even from someone that had been as damn near insufferable as Catherine? This isn’t acceptable, or justifiable, or…or…this isn’t okay!

Gritting her teeth, Millie tried to crawl towards Catherine, to what purpose she didn’t even know. But all she could really do was look on helplessly at the horrified expression on the girl’s face while she stared at her ruined hands.

The worst part was just how happy and excited the girl had been about magic. Like a child, discovering Christmas. To have that twisted like this…it was wrong.

But that’s what this place is really like, isn’t it? Millie recalled an old tale, of a monkey’s paw that would grant you any wish. Only it left you ruined for it. Why did this place have to be like that?

“Please God h-help me!” Catherine sobbed, trembling as she finally fell to her knees.

The skele-ooze tsked.

“Why does that sound so familiar?” It muttered. Shaking its head, it finally approached Catherine, seemingly tired of watching her anguish.

The girl looked fearfully back at the monstrosity, barely seeing him through the tears and snot pouring down her face as she tried to crawl away. Had she really not suffered enough? Was the monster going to hurt her even more!?

“Leave her the fuck alone!” Millie screamed, spitting through the blood pooling down her face with the force of her shout. The skele-ooze glanced back at Millie and had the gal to smirk.

Fuck you, you oozy piece of shit. I’ll kill you. I’ll find the power to kill every last monster in this fucking cursed hellhole.

“Stop your yowling girl and sit still,” the skele-ooze said, turning back towards Catherine. “The trial’s over, so let’s make this last part quick.”

Catherine trembled, still trying to get away even as the skele-ooze walked forward to straddle her. Then, it reached down. Catherine screamed in fear as the ooze covering the creature’s hands blossomed outward, revealing the bones beneath as they grabbed her charred hands. Then, the ooze twisted around, covering both of their hands completely.

A second later, Catherine stopped screaming and struggling. In fact, she suddenly looked confused.

“Consider me impressed, girl. If this doesn’t make you stronger with whatever sorcery is about, surely nothing will.”

The skele-ooze laughed boisterously as Catherine stared at him, whimpering softly.

From Millie’s distance, she saw why the curvy girl had finally settled herself. Her hands were…healing. It looked like they were dissolving at first, but Millie realized it was in reverse. The ruined, blackened skin peeled away, returning to a clean, natural state inside the ooze. Slowly, Millie’s failure as a teacher was erased as their opponent restored the girl’s hands.

Seeing that, Millie stopped her worm-like charge towards the monster and slumped where she lay. Her fury was still pounding inside her head, beating in time with the pain in her face. This didn’t make things okay. It wasn’t right to hurt people like this. It wasn’t right. Millie could feel fresh tears forming, though they were born of anger and frustration. They quickly mingled with the blood.

At least the skele-ooze hadn’t lied. The trial was over.

A moment later the doors on the opposite end of the arena opened as a series of robed skeletons, accompanied by a few servitors, came out bearing stretchers for the wounded. They collected Millie and her group, telling them they were to be taken to the chambers beyond for medical aid. But Millie couldn’t help but watch Catherine. Even as the girl was laid down on a stretcher, she was gripping her freshly healed hands tight enough to turn them white. Trembling, as her eyes stared out blankly.

Eventually, Millie tore her eyes away and waited to be carried off. She didn’t have to wait long, but as she crossed the iron doors she had a simple revelation on just why she was so furious. It wasn’t just that Catherine had gotten hurt—this place had taken a part of her away.

It had robbed her of that innocent wonder, that burgeoning hope in something as miraculous as magic. Burned it away as an offering for the sake of what, power? A cruel moment whose only purpose was to gain ‘experience?’ Millie couldn’t think of any other reason why this place would so adamantly refuse to warn or train students. Let them get hurt struggling to teach themselves—they’d learn more that way, right?

Could Millie really protect her child in a place like this? What would he—what would she—become, in the end?

“Whatever it takes, right?” She mumbled, one hand resting on her stomach, stroking it gently. In her mind, she could still hear Catherine screaming.

“We apologize, Initiate McArthur, but we’re unable to heal your wound at this time. We can’t take the risk due to your ongoing condition,” the servitor told her with a smile. It was always smiling though—that’s just how these stupid things were.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you going to summon the Headmaster?”

The servitor shook its head. “In this case, your injury isn’t severe enough to justify doing so. At your earliest convenience, please return to your dormitory and utilize the healing pools within.”

“Why can those heal her but not you?” CJ asked irritably. She didn’t blame him—he hadn’t exactly been happy to wake up with a face full of his own crotch.

“The healing pools are designed to bolster the life force of a Magus, speeding up the natural healing process. This limits the severity of injuries that can be restored as a result, but it does make them safe for someone in a delicate situation, such as unremedied students.”

Or pregnant girls with unremedied fetuses, Millie mentally added. Though that still doesn’t explain why they can’t just do the same thing. Maybe they don’t want to stand around for the hour it would take?

CJ frowned, making an actual growl of displeasure much to Millie’s gentle amusement, before he sighed, and turned to look at her.

“I’ll see if I can look into potions that can do something similar,” he told her. He must have had a similar thought.

Millie shrugged. “It’s fine—we’ve got too much on our plate right now as it is, so let’s just focus on what’s in front of us. Are the others up yet, you think?”

“I’ll go check. They said it wouldn’t take long anyway.”

He got up, stepping past the curtain to the room outside. Millie continued to sit on the bed across from his. The room the group had been left in was divided by thin, privacy curtains separating pairs of beds, much like a medical ward. However, something magical in the curtains kept sound from crossing. Still, the group had only been there for about ten minutes or so, to allow them to recover before moving on.

During that time Millie had managed to somewhat calm down, though she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t just putting on a brave face. Inside, she felt like a tumultuous storm just waiting for a chance to lash out. But, lacking any real power, her rage was ultimately impotent. It didn’t stop her mind from working tirelessly in the background, however, as she considered options. Planning for a future where she would see this city burn.

Finally, after a moment, CJ returned, popping his head past the curtain. “Looks like everyone’s ready to go, but the skeleton lord wants to talk to us before we move on to the next floor.”

“Skeleton lord?” Millie asked with a huff.

CJ shrugged. “I don’t know. It certainly isn’t your average skelie.”

Millie rolled her eyes. I don’t think its exact definition matters right now anyway, she thought, before standing up to follow her scrawny friend.

Outside the isolation of the dividers, she found the rest of her class waiting, most of whom were grouped up save for two in the corner. Her eyes immediately drifted to the stragglers, finding Catherine and Katelyn talking quietly. The curvy girl looked shaken, but her eyes at least contained a semblance of presence.

“You’re still hurt?” Raj said, frowning when he saw Millie.

Millie shrugged as she walked over to join the majority of the group, standing next to CJ. “Yup. Same excuse as the last time we had a trial, but this time it isn’t ‘serious’ enough to summon the fuckwad upstairs.”

D’marco laughed at her crassness, but Isabella frowned as she pulled out a rag and approached Millie.

“Stand still,” she told Millie, before wiping at her face, cleaning away the dark blood. It hurt, but she let the woman do it without complaint. It was just pain, and Millie figured she might as well get used to it. There would only be more in the future.

“Is, ah…Catherine okay?” Millie asked quietly. Isabella paused in her ministrations, before turning towards Raj.

The muscled man stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Katelyn said they gave her a potion to settle her mind. She seems…better, but I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Millie nodded. The Headmaster had done something similar to her following the first trial, so it wasn’t surprising to hear potions could do it too.

“I guess it's a small mercy,” she finally said. She noticed Braylon nodding solemnly in agreement.

“Yeah, free drugs for anyone that needs them,” Isabella muttered, before finishing cleaning up Millie’s throbbing face. “I don’t think you should be walking around like this.”

Millie shrugged. “I can rest when we’re done. This won’t slow us down.”

“You’re a tough bitch, you know that?” D’marco said appraisingly.

“I am,” she agreed. “Drink your milk and maybe you can grow up to be a tough bitch too,” she winked at him and he broke out into a chuckle. Even his sister smirked at that one.

“Please don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Tanya said. She saddled up next to Millie, slipping a hand into hers. Millie gave it a squeeze as she smiled at the petite girl reassuringly.

“Shall we get going?” Millie asked.

“Let’s,” Raj agreed.

With that, the group began to line up near the door. As they did, Katelyn and Catherine quietly joined them, and soon after a servitor stepped up to guide them to their next destination. Outside of the make-shift medical ward, they went through a hallway, and eventually to a door at the end. Beyond it, was clearly an armory, inside of which the skele-ooze stood waiting.

“Welcome, challengers,” the skele-ooze said. “Line up so we may finish this quickly.”

“I thought the trial was over,” Raj said darkly.

The skele-ooze shrugged. “It is, but now it’s time for your reward,” it said, grinning hungrily.

Millie eyed the creature uncertainly. It’d at least had the courtesy to put on some clothes since they’d last seen it—a pair of furry-looking pants of some kind, but Millie didn’t exactly feel trusting right now. Still, she, along with everyone else, silently filtered into the room as instructed, standing shoulder to shoulder. The servitor that had guided them closed the door quietly behind them, though it remained inside.

“Now, I see from many of your faces that you feel cross over that trial,” it told them. Cross? That’s what you think? “I have good news—this isn’t the last time you’ll see me.” The skele-ooze smiled broadly. “You’ll have ample chance to try again.”

“W-we have to do this again?” Tanya asked quietly.

“Fucking hell,” D’marco whined.

The skele-ooze laughed in response. “Not this exact challenge, no. But lower in this place, you will face me again and again. When you do, I advise you to take one of two actions—flee, or fight me with everything you’ve got. If you fail to fight better than any time we’ve fought previously and don’t get away—I’ll slaughter you. Understood?”

Great, so he’s a fucking measuring stick to make sure we’re progressing. God damn this stupid shit. It never ends, does it?

“We got it,” Raj said. It was clear he was no happier than Millie with the news. “I don’t suppose you’ll give us a hint on when we’ll see you again?”

The skele-ooze grinned darkly and said nothing.

“Yeah, that sounds about right…” Isabella muttered.

“Will we…always get rewards?” CJ asked tentatively, looking around the armory surrounding them.

The skele-ooze shook its head. “No—today’s reward is part of this place’s plans for you all. I was told that fight is not the way it was in the past, but I don’t know the details, and I don’t care.”

This…place? Wait, why is he talking like he’s an outsider too?

“What do you mean you don’t know the details?” Isabella said, scowling at the creature. “Do you spirit-undead things not know what’s going on like the robots do?”

“Ro-bots?” The creature repeated, sounding out the word before shaking its head. “I don’t know what that is. As for the dead—I thought I’d become an einheri, but I’ve yet to feast on Sæhrímnir! So what I am, I suspect you know better than I. But be warned—I am not like the thralls of this place. And I take my task of challenging would-be seiðkonur seriously.”

It smiled again, another wide-brimmed unnerving grin. The thing was clearly sadistic.

“What the hell is an einheri?” Millie whispered to CJ. Before he could answer, however, Catherine finally spoke up.

“The singular of einherjar. Those that fight alone. When they die in battle, they’re brought to Valhalla by the Valkyries to feast nightly on the beast Sæhrímnir. You…you’re really a Víkingr, aren’t you?”

“We-king-ger? What the fuck is that!?” D’marco demanded.

The skele-ooze ignored the boy as it stared at Catherine. “Hah! I’m sure I’ve voyaged plenty in my time, little one, but my memories of life were taken from me—that seems common here, even to the others.”

“Oh fuck, she meant Viking,” CJ translated what Catherine had said.

“What the hell? We have to fight fucking Vikings in a magic alien city now?” Isabella said incredulously.

“Oh, um,” the lone servitor waiting in the room quickly interjected. “Please don’t mind that. I am authorized to inform you that, in this case, the current source of the undead population in Magincia isn’t a part of the curriculum. Nothing about this particular Death Knight’s origin is relevant to your concerns.”

“Current source?” Millie asked. “What, is this place stealing the dead of Earth now too?”

“Yes,” the servitor answered matter-of-factly.

Silence fell on the room. Apparently, the robot thought that was a complete answer. This raises so many questions and I have no idea where to begin.

“Never mind the thrall,” the skele-ooze…Viking said. “Your reward for making it this far shall be your first weapons. Arms for the men, and tools for the women.”

“Why the fuck do only the men get weapons?” Isabella said.

“Oh, you can ignore that,” the servitor jumped in. Was she his translator or something? “All students can receive a basic weapon and novitiate wand as a reward from this trial.”

“Shit, this is when we finally get wands?” D’marco said. “Fuck, this reward system man.”

“Bring an ergi upon yourself if you must, seiðmenn,” the dead Viking said, sneering at D’marco. “I suppose I have no say in the matter.”

“Fuck, is this an ancient sexism thing?” Isabella muttered.

“Magic was considered a feminine art to them,” Catherine answered her. “Ergi is the social taboo of men practicing it, thus making themselves more effeminate.”

“…so yes, is what I’m hearing,” Isabella responded. Catherine just sighed.

Millie rounded on the servitor. “Why is he using all these weird terms if he isn’t supposed to remember his past?”

The undead Viking sneered at Millie, seemingly not a fan of her ignoring him in favor of the ‘thrall,’ but she paid it no mind. Instead, she glared at the robot, which smiled nervously at her.

“Well, certain aspects of this particular Spirit’s personality are too interwoven with its culture. In order to preserve its agency in its role, portions of its knowledge were left unchanged. They don’t have any bearing on the curriculum, however. Please pay it no mind!”

“And what exactly is its role?” CJ asked. He then jumped when the undead Viking growled at him.

“This particular Death Knight is the current Black Knight—the Keeper of the Collections!” The servitor declared proudly, but the undead Viking scoffed.

“Black knight? Really?” Isabella asked deadpanned. Oddly, the Viking didn’t seem to take offense to this—if anything, Millie got the impression it agreed with her assessment whole-fucking-heartily.

“Ah…y-yes,” the servitor confirmed. “We-we’re still experiencing a few issues on certain technical aspects, but I assure you the position it holds is that of the Black Knight—the Keeper of the Collections!”

“Why are you repeating yourself?” Catherine asked. “Also, shouldn’t he be dressed as a knight if that’s his position?”

Millie was pretty sure she could see the servitor sweating. Could robots sweat? God, why is this place like this sometimes? Why would she be…oh wait. I think I understand this one, actually. Boosted mental stats for the win.

“You can’t get him to wear the armor can you?” Millie asked. The robot flinched as the Viking smirked. Bingo. Maybe this is what Eden was hinting at when she said Spirits were harder to control than servitors.

“We-we’re still experiencing a few issues on certain technical aspects, but I assure you the position it holds is that of the Black Knight—the Keeper—”

“We fucking get it!” Isabella cut in. “Hey, big guy. Weapons? Give.”

She held out her hand as the undead Viking eyed her dubiously. Then, it broke out into a wide grin, before sweeping its hand towards the walls.

“Take your pick, seiðkona.”

“Ugh, what’s that mean?” Isabella turned towards Catherine.

“Sorceress?” The girl replied. She sounded unsure, however.

“Fine, whatever. Is there a difference in the wands?”

The Viking shrugged, but the servitor spoke up. “There are four types available, one for each of the elements you found coming in. Do keep in mind, that you will still get a free wand of your choosing upon the beginning of your classes following the end of the Hospitality period—these wands are meant to assist you with your studies.”

“Our studies?” D’marco repeated.

“Yeah, for when we have to punch skeletons to look up books,” Millie translated. D’marco scowled, before nodding in thanks to Millie, then tromped after his sister to start looking over the walls.

Glancing to the side, Millie caught Raj’s eyes—he was still glaring at the Viking. Had he taken that fight personally? She wasn’t sure, but she headed towards the walls, looking over the mundane weapons first.

There was pretty much every kind that could be imagined there. Swords, spears, hammers, hell, even a chain. There was only one of any given type, however, and no shields which Millie thought was annoying. Though that wasn’t nearly as annoying as the lack of a Mark on any of the weapons.

“Hey, don’t get too attached to any of these,” she told the group. When they looked at her questioningly, she pointed out her observation. “None of these are Marked, so they can’t be brought on expeditions. Also, unless I’m mistaken none of these are enchanted, correct?”

She directed that question towards the servitor, which nodded in agreement.

“So this is just the cheap shit we saw in the inventory?” D’marco said.

“Hey, even that cheap shit ain’t so cheap. This still saves us resources,” Isabella replied, before picking up a wand. “Plus these. These are Foci, right? What spells are in these?”

“Elementally-aligned bolts,” the servitor replied. “That particular wand you carry contains the Fire Bolt Spell Foci.”

Isabella nodded, before looking at the ruby embedded in the middle of the wand. “So are these all color-coded then?” The servitor nodded, and the beauty scoffed, clearly unimpressed.

In Millie’s experience, however, colors did tend to be fairly self-evident when it came to magic, so seeing a ruby and assuming it was fire made sense. The other wands had quartzes, sapphires, and citrines. White, blue, and yellow for earth, water, and wind. Still, that wasn’t always the case, and technically nothing stopped a sufficiently skilled Magus from making wands of fireballs using emeralds if they wanted.

Regardless, the beauty eventually decided to go with the fire wand and turned to start looking over the mundane weapons. For her part, Millie figured she’d go with a short sword. She already had a knife thanks to Raj, and she doubted she could use most of the weapons presented to her now. At least this one looked like something she could conceivably wield, which should allow her to intimidate any idiots who accosted her. A few experimental swings with the blade made her feel confident in her choice, until she heard the undead Viking laugh at her.

“What? You never seen a pregnant girl with a sword?” She swung it tauntingly at him, a part of her worried about insulting the Spirit, but as she suspected with its reactions towards Isabella, it seemed to approve of wanton displays of aggression, especially from women.

“If I had the time and will, perhaps I would show you how to use it as a proper skjaldmær. But no. You are more likely to gut yourself with swings like that than your enemies!”

It grinned mockingly at her as she huffed. Putting aside whatever ‘skjaldmær’ meant, she wasn’t that bad, was she? Granted, perhaps twirling it about wasn’t the best plan—even Raj was looking at her warily. Scowling, Millie put the sword back. I just wanted it to scare people anyway, so if it makes people laugh at me that’s a no-go. Maybe a big ass spear then? Fuck I don’t want to carry that around. Plus, she could see Isabella eyeing it.

“Well, got any suggestions, oh great and powerful Keeper of the Collections?” She intoned irreverently. She didn’t actually expect a response, so she was surprised when she got one.

Laughing again, the Viking approached her. He then scanned the walls, measuring the weapons with an experienced eye as he scratched his chin in thought. After a moment of appraisal, he reached up and grabbed his choice, before handing it to Millie. There was just one problem.

It was a fucking thin piece of rope. It was only a few feet long!

“Is this a joke?” She asked the undead Viking. “Am I supposed to choke someone out with this? How is this better than a sword?” Hell, even the chain would be better than this. At least I could repurpose that.

The Viking laughed again. “Here, let me show you,” he said, holding out a hand. Millie handed the glorified string back to it.

Reaching up to the wall, the Viking plucked a small pouch off it and fished out a stone. Great, I can have my own bag of pebbles alongside Raj. She continued to glare at the undead Viking, before it put its finger through a small loop at the end of the string, then settled the rock into a bulge along the middle of the cord. In one fluid motion, he then folded the string over, nestling the rock in the bulge like a pouch, and twirled the cord. In a flash, he let go of the end of the cord, which snapped with a thunderous crack so loud Millie jumped. It was like a fucking whip! On the other side of the room, however, was a small crack in the stone wall where the pebble had actually damaged it.

“Oh…a, ah, sling. Right,” Millie mumbled. She’d heard of the weapon obviously—if from the biblical story of David versus Goliath if nothing else, but it hadn’t connected to her until he showed her. Also, I really didn’t think it would be that…effective. She wouldn’t discount the undead’s potential strength as a factor, however.

“Here, seiðkonur. It may not serve you as well as your witchcraft, but it takes far less to master than the blade.”

And would keep me out of harm's way I suppose, she internally noted.

“Um, thanks,” she told him, accepting the sling and bag of stones. Experimentally, she tried swinging the sling like he had (without a stone in it of course). It wasn’t too bad, though she did, predictably, hit herself in the face a few times in the process, much to D’marco’s loud amusement. Millie said nothing to him, however, as she appreciated his ‘willingness’ to volunteer as target practice later.

Meanwhile, her group set about the task of arming themselves. Raj went with a hefty ax fit for a Viking and water wand, while Braylon took a hammer and earth wand. CJ settled for a dagger and wind wand (it didn’t help that he struggled to lift one of the swords and the Viking mocked his ‘effeminacy’ for it, the jerk).

Tanya also grabbed herself a wind wand before getting a short bow, which Millie had considered but due to certain…anatomical differences, it was easier for Tanya to use than for Millie. Much easier. In fact, the petite girl didn’t even need a chest guard, which Millie was pretty sure Tanya hadn’t even thought of. Millie kept that observation quiet though. Some things were best left unmentioned.

The Navarros both went with fire wands, and D’marco got his first tetsubō (he made sure that Millie knew it didn’t count towards the two she owed him, the little shit). His sister went with the large spear she’d taken a fancy with, as Katelyn stepped up to grab a staff. It didn’t seem as effective of a choice as, say, a short spear, but she claimed she liked the versatility of it, and she also claimed a water wand for similar reasons.

Finally, Millie snagged herself an earth wand. It wasn’t something she was familiar with, but the Fortune Teller had advised diversifying her elements. When she finally got the chance to cast magic again this could prove useful—though a part of her was still wary about the advice the bug-bot had given her.

It took her a minute, as the group lined up, to realize however that one person had been left out. Catherine hung back, seemingly unable, and unwilling, to take anything.

“You should get something, sweetie,” Katelyn urged her. “Even if you don’t want it right now, you’ll need it.”

The curvy girl avoided her taller friend’s eyes as she cast about.

“Katelyn’s right, Catherine,” Raj assured her. “You don’t need to use it now, but you’ll be glad you took one later.”

“I-I don’t know what to choose,” she admitted as the group stared on helplessly.

“Come, girl,” the Viking said. “Where is the courage you showed not an hour past?”

Catherine looked up at him uncertainly. “I-I thought I was going to die! I thought everyone was going to die! I…I was desperate, not…brave.”

The Viking snorted. “Are such things different?”

Katelyn rubbed Catherine’s back comfortingly, but the curvy girl still looked unsteady. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

Rolling its eyes, the Viking walked over to the wall of wands, before grabbing one and approaching Catherine. The curvy girl shrunk back from him, but he held out the wand.

“Take it,” the Viking commanded, thrusting the wood into her hands.

Catherine stared at it, her face twisting with something like bitterness.

“…Fire,” she said quietly, before looking up to stare at the Spirit.

“If you let fear of the seiðr control you, you will fail before your journey even begins, little one.”

Catherine’s eyes swam with indecision as she considered his words. Then she looked back up, as though searching for something in his expression. After a long moment, she finally nodded her head and silently accepted the fire wand.

“…Do you have a name?” Catherine asked.

The Viking scoffed. “No—that was taken from me. I am just the Keeper now. Or is it the Black Knight? I do not care for either title. Why? Would you give me a better name?”

Catherine hesitated, before nodding. “I…I think you should be called Shaggy Breeches.”

I’m sorry, what did she say this time? Millie mentally griped. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed CJ struggling to hold back a laugh. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the only one who found this amusing.

The damn Viking himself burst into a storm of laughter.

“Shaggy Breeches! I love this—this shall be my name, henceforth! I shall accept no others!”

“But you’re the Black Knight! You can’t have a name, you—” The servitor tried to correct.

“Silence, thrall! Crawl back to your many-headed Lindworm and inform him of the change.” A manic spark appeared in the undead Viking's eyes as he gazed upon Millie’s group before he moved like lighting to grab a leftover spear from the wall. He then turned and threw it over their damn heads! It stuck on the wall above them, embedded in the stone as they stared at him.

“And you lot—tell everyone of who awaits them. Tell them to bring courage and fire, or a shield to die on, for here awaits their Keeper of Collections. The valorous and wise, Shaggy Breeches! Ahahahahaha!”

Why do things turn out like this? Millie mentally bemoaned. The Spirit’s booming laughter filled the armory. It's either blood, guts, and horror, or just plain stupidity in this place.

“Look, I’m not trying to question your naming schemes, I’m just saying naming the thing Shaggy was weird,” even for you. Millie, of course, didn’t say that last part out loud, as she didn’t want to make Catherine feel like she was being picked on.

“It’s an appropriate name!” Catherine responded, pausing on the stairs descending towards the fourth floor of Collections.

“Shaggy?” Millie said incredulously. “I would expect a meme-thing like that from CJ, but I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing.”

“A meme? Like the internet jokes?” Catherine asked, confusion painting her face.

“Wait, hold on a sec—” CJ said, calling a halt to the whole group. “Millie, who do you think she named the Spirit after?”

Millie glared uncertainly at her friend. Was he messing with her or something? “Shaggy. You know, from Scooby-Doo? Wasn’t he like this big meme, or whatever? The second coming of Chuck Norris or what-have-you? You’re the one who’s always sharing that stuff.”

CJ started laughing, the jerk. “M-millie,” he choked out, “Shaggy Breeches was the nickname of Ragnar Lothbrok—”

“Actually, it's Lodbrok,” Catherine corrected, and CJ nodded to her.

“Ragnar Lodbrok. The famous Viking?”

Millie made a face. “From the HBO show?”

“No!” Catherine exclaimed. “Or, well I don’t know about the show—but Ragnar Lodrok is a legendary Viking hero!”

“…and his nickname was Shaggy Breeches?” Isabella asked skeptically.

“Thank you!” Millie said to her. At least someone agreed that was dumb. Might as well call him Sir Fuzzy-Pants.

“He named himself after his pants that protected him from a serpent’s bite,” Catherine explained. “He had to dip them in tar first, but after he killed the serpent, he ended up getting married to Thora, and—”

“Can we please just move on?” Isabella pleaded. “This isn’t the kind of place to talk about something like this. We’ve got an actual dungeon to explore.”

Also, kind of still bleeding, Millie thought, wiping at her face gingerly.

Catherine immediately deflated, though it wasn’t with the same crushing weight as the pain and suffering of before. She just looked like a petulant child put out that she couldn’t keep talking about her super-cool Viking guy. So—plus one for magic potions healing mental trauma. That, or maybe Catherine just really, really liked Vikings.

“Agreed, we should keep going,” Raj added. “Though it was a good name, Catherine.”

“T-thanks,” she said, blushing a little.

“God, I can’t believe you thought it was Shaggy from Scoobie-Doo,” CJ mumbled.

“Quiet you,” Millie said, punching him in the arm. That just made him laugh louder. “Ugh, I knew I should’ve tried to stay awake during that stupid show.”

“Scoobie-Doo?” D’marco asked.

“No! The Viking HBO—you know what, no. Never mind. Let’s go.”

She stomped down the stairs as their group continued on their journey. Despite her feelings on the matter, the banter did continue, the other group members exchanging laughs as they chatted. The conversations died, however, when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The floor, despite what they’d been told to expect, was active.

“Hold,” Raj commanded, stepping to the front of the group.

“Fuck, didn’t that Spirit say none of the rooms would be online, or whatever?” Isabella said.

“Maybe safe floors are different?” CJ offered.

“Maybe,” Raj admitted. “This still means she didn’t tell us everything, or she was wrong. Either way, let’s take this slow. Form up.”

No one argued as they grouped up, the ‘combatants’ of Braylon, D’marco, and Isabella joining Raj as the rest huddled together behind the front line. Slowly, they entered the room, new weapons drawn and at the ready.

Despite being active, the room was dim save for scattered lights. Torches were placed along pillars, which formed archways separating a massive central lobby from sweeping hallways filled with doors lining either side. There was a second floor, much like the first, but past that the roof arched upward, only to be met with a ceiling of glass, showing off a star-filled sky.

The main floor itself was filled with dozens of glass cases, walled off by rope barriers. Inside them were trinkets, stone tablets, ancient-looking tools, and items—it felt like a museum, though in this case some of the exhibits were glowing with magic.

In front of them, where the carpeted path laid upon a granite floor they came out on led, was a grand, wooden desk with low shelving behind it filled with books and scrolls. A small bell sat on the desk, but beyond it was another exhibit that towered over it. It was, in fact, a giant skeleton of a creature. At first, Millie thought it was reminiscent of Sue, the T-Rex from the big museum in Chicago, but further investigation revealed horns and wings on the creature—so, she quickly concluded it had to be a dragon.

Eventually, the group reached the desk, the sounds of their breathing and steps the only thing breaking up the tomb-like silence of the floor. As such, they all damn near jumped out of their skins when Catherine gasped.

“W-what?” Millie snapped.

The curvy girl had the good graces to blush. “S-sorry, it’s just—look! There’s another quest board to the side.”

Following her gesture, Millie saw what she meant. Located near one of the shelves was a small board covered in notices. It was much smaller than the one they’d seen in the Conflicts office (or the one in her vision of the Expedition hall for that matter), but it did offer a few jobs on it. Isabella was closest and stepped up to look it over.

“Kill thirty skeleton Tomb-Guardians in the fifth floor western hidden catacombs, and retrieve the Spell Book of Uxius the IX,” Isabella read. “Well, that sounds great.”

“Thirty?” CJ said incredulously. “How much does the quest reward?”

It better be good, Millie thought. That’s a lot of fucking skeletons, and they don’t even sound like the run-of-the-mill kind.

“Whelp, that would be a whopping fifteen resources per team member, cutie,” she replied flatly.

“Fifteen? Fifteen?” D’marco whined. His sister mirrored his grimace.

“They’re pretty much all like that, aren’t they?” Millie asked, and the beauty nodded, still scowling in displeasure. God, they really want us to grind for meager points, don’t they?

“Should we ring the bell?” Katelyn asked.

“Hold on a minute,” Raj said, stepping up to the desk and looking behind it.

“Raj…” Katelyn warned. The muscled man looked back at her and smiled disarmingly, snuffling his mustache.

Is he…?

Then he jumped the counter.

Yup. Not even surprised.

“Oh my God, we really can’t take you anywhere, can we?” Millie complained good-naturedly. Raj laughed as he began to search behind the counter. Then he froze, along with everyone else, when one of the doors nearby slammed open. Instantly, the group turned to face the source.

A woman stood in a door past the arches. She had long, stringy red hair with a decorative grey shawl draped over her forest-green dress. She was beautiful, though her eyes were red, as though she’d been crying. She also looked rather miffed, but Millie had a hard time focusing on that.

She was kind of floating above the ground by several inches. That’s not good.

The woman glared at them all and opened her mouth to say something, but the next thing Millie knew she was on the ground grasping her ears screaming in pain. A part of her expected this to be it—they’d finally crossed one too many lines and this was the end. But no—surprisingly, a second later she was fine. Looking up, the floating girl looked to be in a petulant fit, stamping her floating foot on nothing.

Eventually calming herself, the ghostly girl glided towards them, before just phasing through the wood counter. As Millie fought to stand up, she was greeted with the comedic sight of Raj laying on the ground staring at the wispy lady like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. However, the woman just rolled her bloodshot eyes dramatically before dipping down to start searching through shelves.

“Ah, what’s going—” Isabella began to say before the woman popped back up and held up a finger, her face twisted with absolute fury. She then smiled sweetly, before opening a box she’d taken out and revealing a deep, blood-red jewel connected to a lace choker.

Millie watched in complete stupefaction as the woman put the choker on and held her fingers to the jewel. A second later, it glowed as the choker constricted hard enough Millie heard the woman’s neck crack. Apparently, that’s what she’d wanted though? She looked quite pleased with herself now.

“Erhm, that’s better, innit?” She said, her voice…Irish? “Oi, you down t’ere on the floor. You lookin’ for a sight up me skirt? I wouldn’t mind it none, yer a handsome lad—but ya best be gettin’ to your side of the counter before one of the Dullahans be commin’ by.”

Raj raised an eyebrow before he non-challantly stood up and brushed himself off. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he then somewhat maladroitly, shimmied back across the counter.

“So…a Dullahan?” Raj asked once he’d crossed. “Are they the guardians of this place?”

“What’s a Dullahan?” Millie asked CJ quietly.

“One of the headless horsemen,” he replied.

Catherine made an insulted noise. “Headless horseman? They’re a type of Fae from Irish Folklore that—”

“What’s an Irish?” The Irish woman before them suddenly asked. “And why does that sound so familiar…?”

“Sorry, don’t mind Catherine here,” CJ said, the curvy girl looking annoyed at being dismissed. “Are you by chance a Banshee?” He asked her.

The woman cocked her head, which was quite disturbing as the choker made her neck snap grotesquely with the movement. “I don’t rightly know if I’m being honest, sorry. I just woke up ‘air and was given a job. Now, speaking of job—let’s get to it before one of them metal-clad geebag’s show up.”

“The Dullahans,” Raj confirmed.

The Banshee nodded with another crinkling noise. “I don’t know what t’ey are, but the word seemed right, much like the one the young lass ‘air gave me.”

“L-lass?” CJ asked.

The Banshee smiled warmly at him. “And yer a right pretty one ye are!”

Her scrawny friend blushed. “T-thanks,” he said.

Millie took the chance to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. My friend just got misgendered by a Banshee. This day just keeps getting weirder.

“Now, let’s get you all sorted,” the Banshee said. “Sorry again for my late entrance, by the by, the bastards in ‘air never did give us a proper timin’ for yer arrival.”

“That’s fine,” Raj said. “I suppose you’ll give us our library passes then?”

“Oh, yeah, that. I just, erhm, one second if you would,” she said, before digging through the shelves nearby. Eventually, she came back holding a sheet of paper.

Clearing her throat, with a really odd resonance to the sound, the Banshee began to read. “Dear Students—welcome to the fourt’ floor of Collections. I, Mistress…what the feck does this say? O’dani? That’s me bleedin’ name? Mistress O’dani? Ugh, what a load of…erhm. Sorry, I, Mistress O’dani, operate the help desk and will assist you in…bollocks, how long does this script go? Oh, feck this dry shite.”

Without ceremony, the Banshee proceeded to crumple the paper with malicious glee.

"Wait!" Catherine called out, causing the whispy woman to pause, raising her eyebrow. "What if there's something we need in there?"

The Banshee broke out into laughter. "If you ‘ave questions, just ask ‘em. Most of what I’m t’say is ‘no, look deeper wit’in.’ Which is thick as shite but only half as handy in my opinion, but that’s how it is."

She then tossed the crumpled paper to Catherine, who fumbled to catch it.

"'air you go, feel free to treasure it lass, I've got too many as it t'is. Now, as fer yer other t’ings—yes, I can ‘elp with yer passes, and settin’ you up with yer first safe room.”

“That would be…good,” Raj said, looking over the rest of the group with a strained expression. Millie didn’t blame him, this was just…weird. Even Catherine, who'd unfolded the paper and read it over, was looking up with a sense of disappointment.

"This really is a script..." she mumbled.

Millie rolled her eyes. It’s like this place recruited the dead to fill NPC positions, only none of them actually want to do it, she mentally complained. Does that mean all the tombs are full of ghost actors? Will we be fighting zombies that have to stop periodically to read from scripts about the proper way to say ‘brains?’

Fuck, how did we even get here?

A sound drew Millie’s attention back towards the desk, where the Banshee, Mistress O’dani, had set out a large, flat square object. The top was covered in diagrams and glyphs.

“Now, set t’em, ah, Student scrolls of yers ‘air, and you’ll be all set,” she said, smiling kindly.

Well, at least the Banshee's nice. That had to count for something, right?

The group walked through the portal, arriving in their dorm’s study.

“Shit, this is new,” Isabella said, noting the portal they’d walked through. Millie nodded in agreement, several others in the group mirroring the gesture as they poured out, into the room.

“The Headmaster told me that we can keep the copies of books we purchase in our study if we’re willing to share them with the group,” Catherine said. “This is also the only place we can store books that we borrow from the Archives, but they have to be returned within a day or you get charged resources.”

“Great, library fines,” Millie moaned.

“At least this explains why we have a study,” Isabella replied. “It seemed kind of pointless before.”

“Yeah, but why did the portal only appear now?” Millie asked. She was slightly irritated—she’d scoured every inch of their dorm, and the study certainly hadn’t had a portal before now. Though this explained why the shelves were empty, at least. We have to fill them ourselves.

“Probably so we wouldn’t get the wrong idea,” Raj said. “I certainly didn’t think this is what safe rooms meant.”

Millie reluctantly nodded. As they’d had explained by Eden, and reaffirmed by Mistress O’dani, safe rooms were really just a small area where monsters and challenges wouldn’t mess with you normally, that happened to contain a portal to the dorms. While that was nice and all, beyond the safe floors which were free, it would cost ten resources to permanently link a portal for use in such a manner. And just like the portals in the Academy—a student had to visit them personally to link them up.

So yeah, fast travel options exist but we have to pay for them. As that Banshee would say—what a load of shite.

“There's another possible reason,” CJ jumped in, and the group turned to him.

“Oh?” Raj prompted, raising an eyebrow.

CJ nodded. “This proves that the rooms can change or be modified, and is presumably one of the earliest moments we’d find that out.”

“It does?” Katelyn asked.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Millie jumped in. When the group looked at her, she explained. “The shelves got moved around. Even the layout of the room’s a bit different than before. It's actually bigger now, overall. It's like our study got upgraded.”

“Are we even sure this is our study?” Katelyn asked skeptically.

Millie cleared her throat. “Aha…yeah, I’m pretty sure this is ours.”

When Katelyn looked at her questioningly, CJ laughed lightly and pointed towards one of the windows. The curtains were mysteriously missing, and the only evidence they’d been there at all were the scraps left on the floor. Millie had been a bit zealous over the very long night she’d been left alone. Though she noted some of the furniture she’d deconstructed from the room had been replaced. Some, but not all.

“This is where you got our rope and rags from,” Isabella said, chuckling.

“Yup,” Millie confirmed. “But, ah, what’s the plan now guys?”

“Should we keep exploring?” Katelyn asked. She sounded worried about the suggestion, however. A quick glance over at Catherine and she could see why—despite the semblance of normalcy about her, the girl was still wringing her hands together, almost compulsively. Magic helps, but memories linger, she concluded.

“Considering what…Shaggy Breeches told us,” Raj said, pausing as he shot Catherine an amused look. The curvy girl smiled lightly. “We should be wary of pushing too far too fast in the Collections. Given that Millie needs time to heal, I say we give her that while the rest of us check and see if the Academy has a shooting range.”

“A shooting range?” Katelyn asked.

Raj patted the wand on his belt, and she nodded in understanding.

A part of Millie hurt realizing the implications of being left behind, but she forced herself to smile. “That’s a good idea. It shouldn’t take you guys long to figure out the wands on your own—I’ve already taught you the basics.”

“Is it…safe?” Catherine asked hesitantly.

I wish I could say it was. “There are…dangers, but with wands it's minimal. Treat them like you would a gun, and you should be fine.”

The girl didn’t look convinced but Raj gave Millie a knowing nod. As much as Millie wanted to be there to help the girl, she had to acknowledge she probably wasn’t the best one for the job anyway. Though I can still give them all the run-down on Spellcasting. They probably shouldn’t be experimenting with it yet, but…I don’t want a repeat of that trial.

“Alright, how about before you guys go, I give you all the full Spellcasting one-oh-one. Sound good?” Millie asked, and with only a bit of hesitation, the group eventually agreed. Once seated before her, Millie pulled out her new wand as a visual aide. Alright Millie, time to be the best teacher you can be.

“In this little guy is a Formation made up of three Glyphs, which you could argue are also Formations, but let’s not worry about that. Instead, all you need to know is that one of those Glyphs handles the creation of destructive elemental force, one of them handles the shaping of the spell into a projectile, and the last actually handles the speed and firing of the projectile. All in all, were you to try and cast all of this without the help of this wand, and without much in the way of expertise, it would cost you three Mana and require a minimum of forty in your Flow stat.”

“Crap,” she heard Braylon mutter, as he glanced down at his Soul Scroll. Several of the others had equally dour expressions—though Catherine just looked confused at their reactions. Not everyone’s a monster at magic like you, girly, Millie thought, trying to stamp down on her own jealously at the girl’s ridiculous magic stats.

“Don’t worry,” Millie said, “the wands will lower the cost to a single Mana, which means there’s basically zero Flow requirement. To understand that, let's touch on what those magic stats of yours really do first, shall we?”

“Please,” Katelyn said. She’d taken out her own notepad, similar to half the class, though D’marco looked around irritably. Eventually, Catherine reluctantly handed him a blank notepad. Of course, she brought backups.

“First—Potency,” Millie said. “Spells can have a number of factors, such as the duration, raw power, speed, shape, all that. These are usually measured in grades based on the complexity or severity of the factor, but what’s important here is that your Potency is a limiter for the highest grade of spell factor you can put in your spells. From zero to nineteen Potency, you can only handle grade one, which is what you see in your wands. From there, every twenty levels increases the grade you can handle.”

“Is there a limit to the grades?” Raj asked.

“Technically no, but that’s beyond what I can teach,” Millie admitted as he nodded in acknowledgment. “Past that though, is your MP pool. It is, comparatively, the most straightforward magic stat. Divide it by ten rounding down, then add ten and you’ve got your Mana pool.”

“Wait, my sheet says Repository?” Catherine noted, and the other students mumbled agreement. Right, I forgot I changed mine.

“Oh, I ah, changed my attribute’s name to make more sense to me. You can do so as well, or keep it as it is—it's the same thing.”

The others seemed fine with this, though Catherine frowned and began crossing out notes. What was she even writing that had to be stricken from the record because of that? Whatever, at least she’s still engaging.

“Next, you’ve got Flow,” Millie continued. “Similar to Potency, it’s divided by twenties, and it more or less is the amount of Mana you can push out in a minimal casting period before you start suffering Backlash—which is the catchall term for the number of ways you can hurt yourself when Spells aren’t cast correctly or go past your limits.”

“Hence, the forty Flow requirement for a three Mana Spell?” CJ commented.

Millie nodded. “Correct.”

“Wait, wouldn’t that be two?” D’marco complained.

“The cut-off for two is at thirty-nine,” CJ corrected him. “If zero to nineteen is one, twenty to thirty-nine is two, forty to fifty-nine is three, sixty to seventy-nine is four, and then eighty to ninety-nine is five. Presumably, one hundred would be the start of the sixth level.”

D’marco stared blankly at him, his lip actually trembling in fear at the numbers. CJ sighed and handed him his notes—causing D’marco to thank him with more respect and politeness than she’d ever seen the little shit offer anyone as he furiously copied them down.

“Ahem,” Millie cleared her throat, after giving D’marco, and a few others, a chance to catch up on their notes. “Last is Resonance, but it’s a bit more…complicated. At its core, it handles how well you resist hostile magics, but it also limits the amount of time you can spend casting. To understand that, we need to go over the five different casting speeds.”

“Fuck me…” D’marco moaned.

“I know, I know,” Millie said soothingly. “Don’t worry, it isn’t as bad as you think. In this case, cast speeds really just boil down to the length of a cast. Instant, fast, slow, ritual, and group. Instant is exactly as it sounds, but will increase the complexity of your Spell, so if your Potency can’t handle that you’ll pay for it. Fast just means casting the entire Spell during a standard casting period.”

“And that is…?” Isabella asked, raising her hand. She looked around and blushed when she realized she was the only one who’d done something like that. Ah, Issie’s secretly a polite student—who knew?

“Anywhere from two to five seconds, based on your proficiency with the Spell,” Millie answered, before continuing her lecture. “Slow casting, though, means to drag out the Spell into multiple cast periods, which is useful if your Flow can’t handle the Mana cost—as long as you don’t spend more Mana in a cast period than you can handle, you’re all set.”

“So you could take all the time you need to cast big Spells?” CJ jumped in excitedly.

“You can—if your Resonance can handle it.”

“Of course, there’s a fucking catch…” Isabella muttered, adding a large note to her paper. Millie was pretty sure the beauty had just written a curse word.

“Similar to the others,” Millie said, “just divide Resonance by twenty to get the number of periods you can handle. However, its limits are less obvious when it comes to ritual and group casting, but I won’t be getting into those.”

“Why?” Catherine asked. “Those sound really interesting.”

“Sure, and they probably are,” Millie confirmed. “But they’re also more advanced and I never learned them in my vision.”

The girl grumbled in response but didn’t push it any further. However, Tanya took a page from Isabella’s book and raised her hand, so Millie called on her.

“Um, earlier didn’t you say there are tiers to Spells? How do those factor in?”

“Good question,” Millie said with a nod. “In this case, at their core, Spells are placed into a tier based on the presumed minimal cost of the Spell, and the tier directly correlates to that cost. All tier ones cost at least one Mana, tier twos two Mana, and so on. Though, in truth, getting them down to that minimal cost is a major endeavor. Even if it shows up in your known Spells, you aren’t guaranteed to be casting with that level of mastery.”

“What about practices?” CJ added. “You said they can make Spellcasting easier?”

“Wait, practices?” D’marco interjected.

“Uh, yeah, I went over those with CJ earlier,” Millie admitted. “Practices, like Necromancy, Divination, Shamanism, are all standardized approaches to Formation creation and casting. They limit the amount of versatility in the Spell, but they help lower the costs, getting you closer to that minimum tier cost. In many ways, you can think of practices as a type of Spell Foci—they’re just one you can stack with tools like our wands.”

D’marco threw down his pen. “I quit magic. This shit is stupid, man. It just gets worse the more we learn!”

“It’ll get easier,” Millie said soothingly. “Just…keep in mind I’m kind of cramming days of study down your throat. You got the notes, review them later when you can. For now, all you have to do is go to the range, pump Mana into your wands, and out will come Spells. Nothing you just learned is needed for any of that.”

D’marco scowled, obviously wanting to complain more, but he bit his tongue. It was one thing to ignore schoolwork—another when you were in a magic city and your lives depended on your casting skills. As much as he hates this, I’m pretty sure he’ll at least try. He just needs hands-on experience to get this down.

“Any advice for when we’re out there?” Isabella asked.

“Sure—my first bit of advice is any idiot can instant cast. If you want to get good at magic, the key is to first master the slow cast.”

“Really?” The beauty retorted, raising an eyebrow. “I’d think slinging Spells as fast as you can is pretty damn important.”

“Sure is, but your stats aren’t likely to allow it,” Millie explained, and based on the quick glance the beauty had at her Scroll, Millie was pretty sure she agreed. “Taking your time casting will get you better accustomed to slow casting, and most fights can be won at range with the right choice of Spells. If I had any advice for my future self, it would have been to be more proactive with my Spells. If all you do is react with your Spells, you’ll be out of Mana and caught in a Goblin trap before you know it.”

Millie winced at the memory. She didn’t want to judge her vision self too harshly, but the fact of the matter was that she just hadn’t had the same mindset Millie had developed now. If you waited for danger to find you before you did anything to fight it, you just invited disaster.

“My second piece of advice, though,” Millie continued, “would be to trade wands while you’re out there. I don’t think we can actually transfer ownership of them without cost paying a price, but we don’t need to. Just let your fellow classmates try them out. Exposure to Runes are the best way to learn them, and honestly, that's one of the best uses of Foci—as a training tool.”

“Hmm, maybe we can purchase other wands from the system and train in multiple Spells at once,” Raj suggested. “Do you know how much they cost?”

“A hundred RP for basic wands like these,” Millie answered, holding up her wand. “That’ll be the same for most tier one spell wands, I reckon. That said, I think you can get unattuned wands for fifty? But if you don’t know any Spells they won’t do anything for you.”

“What do they do then?” Katelyn asked.

Millie paused before her eyes drifted towards Catherine’s hands. The tall woman followed her gaze, and let out a small noise of acknowledgment as the implications sunk in.

“They, ah, don’t have any Formations in them, but they have some Glyphs that are useful for directing a Spell for newer Magi like us,” Millie explained. “Less chances for…hurting ourselves.”

“But you have to know the Spell already,” Catherine said quietly, noticing how the room had centered on her. She looked uncomfortable as Millie nodded to her question.

“They only help protect you, hence why they’re cheaper than other wands,” Millie confirmed.

“I have a strange question,” Braylon said, raising a hand.

“And I probably have a strange answer. Shoot,” Millie replied.

“Um, how are we supposed to afford all this, Mana wise? I want to train as much as everyone else, but I only have a ten Mana pool and I’m down several points from the trial.”

“And I’m out completely…” Catherine muttered, her eyes turning glassy for a moment.

“Well we’ve got a Mana sauna in the bathhouse you can use to boost recovery,” Millie pointed out. “I’d also be surprised if you didn’t find similar rooms in the Training yards, so just bounce back and forth between soaking in the mystic juices of the universe and blasting your magic at your targets.”

“Phrasing,” CJ warned.

“…it wasn’t that bad, was it?” Millie complained.

“Mystic juices?” CJ repeated.

A slight, rosy tinge cropped up Millie’s neck. “Nevermind! Go forth students, and good luck in your training!”

“Wait, are we sure it's safe to leave Millie here alone, with…?” Katelyn said hesitatingly, turning towards the group.

“With Liam?” Millie finished. The tall woman glanced back at her and nodded. Millie had had a similar thought but thankfully had a solution.

“System—please summon my servitor.”

“Acknowledged,” a feminine voice sounded out, and Millie jumped in surprise.

Okay, that’s new, she thought. However, a second later her robot appeared through the study’s door.

“Hello, Millie. How can I help you?” She asked.

“Just, ah, protect me while I’m outside my room please,” she asked, and her robot nodded, stepping forward to flank her. Millie, however, turned to the rest of the group. “You guys all heard Eden just then, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Tanya answered her. “Is this because we did that summoning ritual?”

“I guess…” Catherine said uncertainly.

“Great, now the system can talk back to us,” Isabella grouched. “Won’t this be a treat.”

Raj chuckled darkly, obviously in agreement. “Let’s get going then. I think we should plan to call it around the fourth hour, then reconvene at the eighth to continue where we left off. At some point, some of you will at least need to get started on that podcast of yours too, or people might riot.”

Right, we did kind of commit to that. Millie also pulled out her Soul Scroll and confirmed—this gave about one Magincian hour for the rest of them to practice and for her to heal before their ‘day’ was over. That wasn’t a bad thing though. Many, like Millie, had been up before M-dawn so they were already pushing twelve to thirteen Earth hours of being awake and active. Two and a half more Earth hours on top of that? Seemed as good a time as any to rest.

With the group in agreement, they parted ways. The rest to explore the training grounds, and Millie to go sit in a pool.

Hopefully this time, she’d have less annoying visitors.