Authors Note: Just a reminder that the MC in this story is not familiar with light-novel culture, so when terms that are familiar to us wuxia-geeks come up in this story they will often be completely new to him.

Also, I wanted to thank everyone for the positive feedback! It really helps me keep going.

I'm also open to criticism, but if you have something negative to say, please try to be as specific as possible in identifying exactly what you disliked about a certain part. Constructive criticism can be very helpful.

The same might go for praise as well, as being specific in exactly what you liked helps me just as much.

Getting out of the man-eating-mattress was actually pretty easy once I stopped laughing, as I simply used the normal magnetism inherent in iron to pull myself up via the tapestry hooks (though it took quite a bit of power). I was feeling somewhat fatigued from using my powers so much in a short span of time, so I pushed myself out of the room to take a rest… and there was Lord Runax, walking towards me down the hallway.

He jerked to a halt when he saw me tumble from the room, covered in feathers and fur and looking more or less exhausted.

“Are you alright? Who attacked you, what did they look like?” He took a half step backwards, spinning his head this way and that looking for imaginary assailants.

I found it strange that he automatically assumed I was attacked… what, did things like that happen in Garrison all the time? “Uhhh, oh, no, I’m fine. Is… ah… is my room ready?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face. I was considering just rolling with his assumption, as it would allow me to blame the mess in his room on someone else.

“Nobody attacked? Are you sure?” He asked, still looking nervous.

I just blinked at him, not wanting to answer such a silly question. I would need to explain this somehow though, and everything that ran through my mind had flaws.

Oh yes, actually I was attacked, oopse it must have slipped my mind. No, this would put the Garison on full alert… and they might start to suspect I was up to something when they found nothing.

I lost control of my cultivation. No, that would make him think I was dangerous… Right now he was sucking up to me, and I wanted to keep it that way. Better he think I’m a normal boy apprenticed to Merrik than have him worry I might be a liability.

I think you are an ass, and wanted to show you how I feel. Hmmmm, I actually liked this one. It was direct and to the point. But I didn’t want to risk alienating him… especially because I didn’t know if Aldur was still alive or not… I was hoping that I hadn’t killed him (I’d feel pretty terrible), but at the same time if he was alive he definitely seemed like the type to seek revenge…

That made me wonder why I didn’t feel all that bad about possibly killing another huma… err… I mean another person… (Wolfram had gotten pretty mad a few years ago when I called our people ‘humans’ by accident once) for the first time. Anyway, the point is that I didn’t feel all that terrible, though I felt a twinge of guilt maybe. Then again… well… I guess maybe that wasn’t the first person I had killed… Images of a plane filled with people – with humans; men, women, and children – flashed through my mind… and not for the first time.

“Heller, my boy, are you alright?” Lord Runax asked, having closed the distance between us without my noticing. My thoughts snapped back to the present, and as I looked at him I made up my mind: I was going to tell the truth. I had long learned that keeping complicated lies going was exhausting, and after looking at all my options I didn’t see an easier way out anyway.

“I was practicing my cultivation, sir, and I damaged one of the lamps in your room by accident. It started a fire, so I had to flip the bed over to put it out.” I’d leave it to his imagination how I could possibly have achieved such feats – he had already seen me nearly kill a trained warrior, so revealing that I had a bit of power wasn’t exactly a huge deal.

His face turned purple, and I checked that my Ion Shield was still in place as his breathing pattern changed completely. I honestly though he was going to strike me, so I reached out magnetically and secured myself to the sconces along the wall so I wouldn’t fall over.

“I see.” He managed to force out from between his clenched teeth. “Well, good thing you have your own room to wreck now, then, isn’t it.” He was actually trying to force himself to smile – I was now sure that he had plans for me. Nobody honest would be able to let something like this go so easily.

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Lord Runax escorted me to the stairway that lead down to the next lower floor quickly, not saying anything else except to explain to the servant he called over where I was to be taken. I also discovered why the upper floor seemed so empty: It was almost exclusively used to house visiting nobles and other personnel when they came for a visit, so it was relatively empty when there were few guests.

The Garrison was quite a lot smaller than the Fortress in North Stone Village, and when I asked the man leading me down the hallway (a servant with light brown fur) he told me that it was quite a lot smaller than its counterpart in the village. The construction was very similar, as both buildings were built to serve a similar purpose, but the Garrison was made to house a few hundred people with food and supplies (and waste pits) for about ten days – which is always long enough for Merrik to arrive. The Fortress, on the other hand, is built on a much larger scale and has even more supplies, able to hold thousands of villagers for several weeks if it became necessary.

The servant (whose name was Ruvaen) was remarkably informative, animatedly telling me about the damage suffered in the Reaver Wolf attack four years ago when I asked about it. He had been working here for almost a dozen years when the attack occurred, and he said it was the only time in history that the Beasts had ever breached their defenses. I was almost certain that was a huge exaggeration, but he was enjoying his story so I remained quiet – and nobody else I had ever asked had been able to give me a firsthand account.

Apparently they had warning of the impending attack, but only enough to complete the majority of the evacuation of the staff and students of Academy into the fortified walls of the Garrison. I asked why nobody warned the town, and he told me that they had sent two messengers, but neither were ever seen again – he had heard the soldiers who live here claim that they were the first victims of the Pack Leader. He had started to call it something like ‘nascen…’ before he swiftly clamped a hand over his own mouth as he left the word unsaid. He admitted it was a word to do with Cultivation, and that servants weren’t allowed to use or spread things they overheard from the House Flameward Cultivators who lived and trained out of this base.

He told me there had been three powerful wolves and then the leader, who was by far the worst. It was the Pack Leader that broke open the gates of Garrison, breaching its defenses and starting the desperate battle that ended in the retreat I had witnessed from the Fortress. There were usually hundreds of soldiers stationed here, always moving from base to base throughout our land in ceaseless patrols, but several weeks before the attack a large group of soldiers were called back to The City. Not that a few more soldiers would have made much of a difference, Ruvaen assured me, but maybe a few less civilians would have died.

In fact, he was quick to add, the highest casualty rate (aside from the soldiers) was among the staff of Academy and especially the servants and other non-combatants who worked in either building. The most powerful soldiers had been tasked with protecting the young students, and the reminder had fought a running retreat back towards the village over what seemed like days (it wasn’t, as the village was only half an hour away, but I could understand his sentiment). It was only due to the selfless sacrifice of the serving staff that there were so few casualties among the students during that disastrous attack, I was told.

There was quite a lot of activity on the lower floors, and we soon came to the area where the soldiers lived. There were three different symbols (A red sword, a blue knife, and a green hammer) hanging randomly on the doorways down the hall, and when I asked what they were he explained that each one represented a different shift: Red sword for evening watch, blue knife for night watch, and green hammer for day watch. Each doorway lead to sleeping and living accommodations for a group of four soldiers, who usually worked and trained together as a single unit.

I was quite enjoying my tour through the Garrison… until I noticed that a few soldiers were glaring at me as I walked by. At least none of them said anything, or tried to block my path, and eventually we crossed the grounds (which looked well suited to training) and I finally got to see the building I would call home for the next few months.