Minutes passed. Dallion waited for someone, anyone, to enter the room, but there was no such luck. Given that even Cheska had gone off, the class had to be pretty useless. According to Nil, the discipline had to do with using magic to improve items adequately. The explanation had piqued Dallion’s interest, although in all honesty he would have preferred to learn more about Echo Training.

After a quarter of an hour, all noise coming from the corridor had ceased. The novices had gone to their respective class, and Dallion was still waiting. Several times he split into instances just to go check if a clone of the mage was approaching along the corridor, and each time there was nothing to be seen. It was only when he started considering leaving, when a yet another version of Argus emerged.

Finally! Dallion got rid of his peeking instance and sat down in the front row, waiting.

“Should have guessed you’d be here,” the mage said upon entering. “You might actually find this discipline useful. Which means you’ll assist me with exploring it further.”

“Yes, sir?” Dallion wasn’t sure how to respond exactly. He felt equal parts praised and insulted.

“Do you know the basics?” Argus went to his desk.

“Of item improvement?” Thinking back, all Dallion knew was that through improvement, items became studier and more valuable. There was nothing complicated about it, and definitely nothing magical. “Killing the guardian of an item causes it to improve?”

“That’s commoner’s thinking.” The mage frowned. “You’re a mage now, so you need to think like a mage. Everything that seemed random in the past has rules and magic helps us see those rules and use them to our benefit. Rather to your benefit.”

“My benefit, sir?”

“You’re the only one who’ll bother improving anything in the entire Academy. That’s why, with a bit of help on my side, you’ll be able to maximize that talent.” He tossed a small statue at Dallion.

Dallion caught it with hardly any effort. The object turned out to be a small figurine made of wood—birch, from what he could tell.

“That there is a small wooden item with a feral guardian. I know because I selected it. If you defeat the guardian, what will happen?”

“A blue rectangle will appear, telling me that the guardian has been defeated, and the item has reached a higher level.”

“Try it.” Argus crossed his arms. “I’ll wait.”

Since there was no way to refuse, Dallion entered the realm of the figurine.

ITEM AWAKENING

Rectangles appeared, but Dallion quickly waved them away, focusing on everything around him. The realm was one of those simple “room” realms he’d seen plenty of when he was starting out. All around him were flawless wooden doors, with a single doorway leading elsewhere. Stepping through led Dallion to a guardian chamber, where a hedgebear was waiting.

“Sorry,” Dallion said, then performed a point attack.

COMBAT INITIATED

TERMINAL STRIKE

Dealt damage is increased by 1000%

STATUE level increased

The statue has been improved to OAK

Three rectangles appeared in immediate succession. That seemed pretty standard. However, looking closely at the last rectangle, Dallion noticed that it wasn’t one, but rather a multitude of rectangles stacked into one. Furthermore, with his layer magic vision, Dallion was able to see that each of the rectangles was of a different material. Before he could read all of them, the three rectangles disappeared and Dallion was thrown back into the real world.

“I’m back, sir,” he said.

“How did it go?”

“No more difficult than I remember it.”

“Notice anything different about the improvement rectangle?”

“Yes. There were more than one, but only the top one came into effect.”

“That’s the chaotic nature of improvement. There are several options, sometimes hundreds, for an item to transform into. In most of the cases, the choice is so obvious that it hardly matters. However, that’s one of the big lies of the world.”

Lie? Dallion felt a slight chill pass through his body.

“Not all things that are random should be.” Argus went on. “In fact, there’s an argument to be made that nothing in the world is random, but set up just as the Moons want it to be following their own whims. Even cases that appear to provide apparent logic, there is in fact none. Take metal, for example. When upgrading silver, what do you get?”

“Gold.” Dallion replied instantly.

“Why?”

This time, there was no immediate answer. It was obvious the mage had asked a trick question, but when thinking about it, Dallion had to admit its validity. There was no rule or principle that said that something made of silver should become gold. It was the people’s preconception that gold, being the rarer and more expensive of the two metals, should follow.

“Because we perceive it so?” Dallion ventured an answer.

“Wrong. There’s no reason for that to happen, none whatsoever, however ninety-five times of a hundred it does. Occasionally you’d get someone who transforms it into something completely different. There’s even one documented case of an awakened forger transforming gold into silver. The point is that all possibilities are presented, and thanks to magic, you can decide which of them to choose.”

The mage drew a quick spell. A deck of thick cards appeared in his hand.

“Think of that last rectangle as a deck of cards.” He showed Dallion the bottom card. “That’s what it’s supposed to be improved into—the decision of fate and the Moons. However, if you were given the ability to choose, what would you do?”

“Turn tin to gold, sir.”

That was a terrible example to give. The mage’s eyes narrowed, as disappointment emanated from his very being. Mages considered themselves above trivial things such as money.

“I suppose that is one possibility. However, there’s one other problem.” The man threw the cards in the air. Within moments, they scattered all over the ground. “You have one instant to mage that decision and put another card in the place of the fated one. Miss your opportunity and—”

“The item is destroyed?”

“No, the previous choice is made. If it were so easy to destroy items, don’t you think mages would be far more feared than they are?” Argus released his magic into an air current, using it to gather the scattered cards. “Enough theory. I want you to turn that statue into mahogany without using symbols. Just improve it in a controlled fashion.”

With that, the tedious process of training began.

If there was a course that “felt like weeks” this was it. As it turned out, just because Dallion was able to see some of the options of improvement didn’t mean he had the ability to select any of them. Even with a hundred instances, the time frame was too short, and Dallion was still unable to pull a rectangle out of place.

After several hundred attempts, he found that extending his magic to grab the corner of the rectangle was the best approach. It took a few more days of training and rest for him to be able to pull it, even a little, before time elapsed. From there on, things gradually became easier.

After a week, Dallion was able to pull any selected rectangle halfway out from the stack. Unfortunately, that did nothing to influence the results. Dallion had initially hoped that the disruption would grant him more time to pull this off. As it turned out, everything that wasn’t the chosen rectangle ceased to exist once the decision was made.

It took twenty-three days for Dallion to pull out a complete rectangle and place it on top so as to change the result of improvement. The issue now was that he had chosen a material at random. Going through the entire stack and making a choice came with its own set of problems.

“It’s impossible,” Dallion said, taking another break. “Even with instances.”

The trick, dear boy, is not to use instances. You think of the stack in terms of infinity and that’s why you can never succeed. Cut it down in your mind to more manageable elements and search for them. At first go with two materials, then three, give, and slowly increase the number until you can pick one of a thousand.

Sound advice. Trying to follow it proved a different matter altogether. Regardless of how hard he concentrated, Dallion failed to be able to make a meaningful choice. He could either see a large number of the options or pick one at random, but never both.

Having no regard for himself, he kept on trying and trying, until at one point all the rectangles turned white.

That’s new, Dallion thought. Nil, have you seen anything of the sort?

“Probably,” a familiar voice said. “Back when he was a novice. Hello, Dal.”

The Green Moon had appeared a few steps away, this time taking the appearance of a doctor complete with a stethoscope. If it wasn’t for his green outfit, Dallion would almost believe he had somehow found himself in hospital.

“You fainted,” the Moon said, “Just in case there’s any doubt. Even with your stats, one must remember to eat, drink and rest.”

Dallion nodded.

“No remarks or complaints? The Academy must have treated you well. You’ve become a lot more understanding for one, though still so stubborn. Do you really need to learn all this? It’s useful, but let’s face it, you won’t become a tinkerer or even a forger.

“It’s knowledge,” Dallion replied. “And knowledge is valuable.”

“Yes, one of your human cliches. All knowledge is valuable, but only if you happen to have an infinite amount of time. While awakening might seem to provide that, it doesn’t. I guess you’ll learn about that in one of your other classes.”

Felygn went up to Dallion.

“You still haven’t resolved your situation,” he said, shaking his head as he did. “You’re already capped in terms of skills, soon you’ll be capped in terms of traits as well.”

“I’m working on it,” Dallion lied. “Why are you so concerned?”

“Because of what’s to come. Defeating the Star caused a vacuum.”

“And a vacuum is always filled, I know.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about what fills the vacuum, but rather what will be disturbed in the process.”

Just as Dallion was about to inquire regarding the meaning of that vague statement, he opened his eyes. Needless to say that he wasn’t in the classroom anymore, but rather in his own bed. His immediate reaction was to sit up, but as he found, that proved to be an exhausting process. Every fiber of Dallion’s body screamed in agony at the slightest motion. Merely lifting himself up felt as if he were benching five times his body weight.

Good morning, dear boy, Nil said, his words dripping with sarcasm. Hope you had a nice night's rest, or three.

“I’ve been asleep for three days?”

Three and a half, to be precise. You made quite the impression. Several mages aren’t sure if they should praise you for supreme dedication or yell at you for stupidity.

“I didn’t come up with the exercise.”

Only you would think that you have to achieve it on your first attempt! What do you think classes are for? Practicing in your realm has its advantages, but not when you overdo it. If you have to spend more than a day in a realm practicing, don’t.

“You’ve never complained before.”

I didn’t think you’d take it this far. Do you have any idea what it takes for someone with your stats to faint? A lot and yet, you managed to achieve it.

“Do I get a prize?” Dallion closed his eyes. Right now he needed one of two things: rest or exercise. The issue was that he couldn't decide which one to go with.

In a manner of speaking, though not one you’ll be pleased with. Due to your “dedication” in your Improvement Tree studies, Argus has come to the conclusion that any other classes, apart from spelling, would be a waste of your time, thus has removed them from your schedule.

“What?”

You heard me! The echo snapped back. Now, in order to go to any other classes, you must prove that you’re up for it, and the fastest way to do that is by properly improving an item so that it changes according to your will.