The Grand Archive's heavy, arched door groaned shut. Selene stepped out onto the sun-drenched 11-1 District. Lucen and Lumin followed, both squinting, like finally free to see the sight of the sun once more.

  Selene smiled at the two. "So," she said, her voice buoyant. "What do you two think of the collective works?"

  Both Lumin and Lucen shrugged their shoulders simultaneously.

  "It's cool, I guess," Lumin said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, still clearly distracted by the volume of information he'd just glimpsed.

  Selene's mood instantly deflated. A crease formed between her brows. "You guess? Lumin, we just stood in a room holding the summarized knowledge of five thousand years of Vaylora magic research, spanning three entire continents."

  Lumin shrugged uninterested. "It was neat, I just... I like going off of feelings. Reading books feels like copying someone else's homework." He kicked a pebble on the path.

  Lucen let out a soft, knowing chuckle. "He has a point, Selene. Our entire tradition in the Sanctum—the path of the Saint—is predicated on the idea of replication. We just copied the spells and the glyphs of the founders. Our power is rigid and stale because of it." Lucen patted Lumin on the shoulder proudly. "Lumin's instinct is pushing back against that rigidity. Why spend time copying another man's truth when we could be forging our own?"

  Selene's light laugh returned, though it was now edged with slight frustration. "That's a beautiful philosophical argument. You're right that copying the homework can stop you from innovating, but using the knowledge of those who came before—understanding why they wrote what they did, what mistakes they made, and what truths they found—can't hurt. It's the difference between a student who merely copies a solution, and an architect who masters the principles of physics to build something entirely new."

  "What if I think they are fundamentally wrong?" Lumin countered, stepping into the debate with sudden earnestness. "What if I can generate more powerful and efficient spells without ever needing to read their flawed research?"

  Selene's smile was patient, radiating the gentle certainty of a natural teacher. "Then you have even more reason to gain their insight. The more you know about the foundation of their thinking, the more easily you can dismantle their way of seeing the world and strengthen your own." Selene tapped Lumin on the nose and asked, "How can you guarantee your creation won't fall into the same pitfalls as those who came before you? Either way, you lose nothing by absorbing as much as you can. Even if it's only to avoid pitfalls of the past."

  Lumin scratched the top of his head, eyes drifting back to the imposing, dark-wood doors of the library. "It's just... It's not my thing."

  "Very well," Selene said, a glint of challenge in her eye. "Then I'll just have to find a way to change your mind." She motioned for them to follow her, her pace quickening.

  The three of them moved through the 11-1 District. It was a marvel of architecture. The campus was built within the black, natural canyons of the Hallows. Stone pathways lined by flowering hedges. There were buildings made of obsidian and silver-veined granite. These structures were intermingled with more organic, living architecture: towering, spiraling moss-covered residences favored by the Elves, and wide, sturdy longhouses preferred by the Orcs.

  The students were everywhere. Children of all ages and races ran about—a vibrant mix of Titan Orcs whose small bodies already showed immense strength, agile Lycans darting through the crowds, nimble Elves practicing quiet, complex hand gestures, and human children mixing freely among them. This was the hub where all species in the Hallows came to learn.

  "It is... orderly," Lucen observed, taking in the scene. The Sanctum's schools were hushed, hierarchical places. This was vibrant, loud, and chaotic, yet clearly focused.

  Selene smiled with pride. "We offer education for free until the age of eighteen. The foundation is built on practical skills, ethical philosophy, and extensive Vaylora training, all of which are interwoven with the history of all species. After eighteen, those who wish to expand their learning into advanced disciplines must successfully gain recognition from a professor of the specific field of study they wish to pursue."

  "Recognition?" Lucen asked. "Not a standardized test?"

  "No," Selene shook her head. "A standardized test rewards memorization and conformity. Recognition requires that the student demonstrate a spark of genuine understanding, practical application, or some insight that the professor deems worthy of investment."

  "It's amazing what you've managed to create here," Lucen praised, marveling at the sheer scale.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "It is," Selene agreed, pulling them around a corner and into a quieter side of the quad. "But that is not what I wanted to show you."

  They soon reached a wide, enclosed training field. They took their seats in a small, weathered stone stand that overlooked the field. In the center, several young witches were being taught by an instructor. The Instructor was a broad-chested man. He had the presence and gruffness of a seasoned military general.

  He stood over a young, human witch who was lying on his back, having just lost his spar against the small, older Elven witch across from him.

  "Why did you lose?" the Instructor asked, his voice shaking the boy.

  The boy quickly sat up, scrambling to his feet. He couldn't be more than six or seven years old. He pointed towards the child across from him, his voice tight with indignant protest. "He cheated!"

  The Instructor's low, rumbling chuckle was a sound of immense physical power. "He cheated? How so?"

  "We agreed not to use mid-tier spells!" the boy complained, his tiny face contorted with frustration. "We wanted to make this a battle of skill, because he can't use them yet! But he used a mid-tier to overpower me at a critical moment. That's cheating!"

  "And why did you agree to those terms?" The Instructor asked, his face unreadable.

  "Because... because we wanted it to be fair!"

  The Instructor sighed, a sound like grinding stone, and shook his head. "From my point of view, lying is a skill. You relied on a gentleman's agreement, and he used your expectation against you. You fell for his lie. He has already mastered the first law of war: Exploit all weaknesses."

  "But it's not fair!" the boy shouted again, stamping his foot.

  The Instructor's grumbly laughter rattled the very air around them. He helped the boy up and knelt down, bringing his massive frame down to the child's level. "Look at me. We train you here for one reason: to protect the Hallows. When a Sorcerer is sacrificing an infant, they will not ask you for your fighting rules. They will not stop because it is 'unfair.' We fight to win and to live." The man stood up, lifting the child up with him. "Those who fight fair will die surprised. Remember that."

  The young boy lowered his head in silent thought. The instructor stood, a commanding figure, and told the boys to shake hands. The training resumed instantly.

  The spars that followed became more intense, the magic flying wild and free, yet astonishingly controlled. One small Orc created a miniature Controlled Gravity Well that compressed his opponent. Another used a fire spell that didn't burn the opponent, but instead instantly vaporized the moisture on the ground, creating a blinding cloud of steam. Lucen watched, mesmerized. None of these children were over the age of ten. Yet they were displaying control, complexity, and sheer power that surpassed most Saint Candidates in the Sanctum.

  Lumin looked over at Selene, his eyes wide with a dawning realization that outpaced his words. "Is this it? What you wanted to show me?"

  Selene nodded, her gaze fixed on the field with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. "Yes. What do you think?"

  "They are incredible," Lumin said, his voice flat with awe.

  Selene smiled, the expression casual. "Yeah, they're alright. They are all pretty average by the Hallow's standards."

  Lumin spun to face Selene, his brow furrowed. "How can you say that? They are doing things with Vaylora I hadn't even considered. The way that girl compressed the space around her opponent's limbs!"

  Selene's triumphant chuckle rang out, light and clear. "That's because they read... and then they applied. They made full use of the knowledge presented to them, learned the rules so they could break them, and then trained until their hands could follow their minds."

  Lumin stood there quietly, his face working. He looked from the field to Selene, and then back in the direction of the Grand Archive. The realization that he had been relying on raw talent while others were building their skill upon a mountain of recorded wisdom was an irresistible call to action. In a flash of lightning, Lumin disappeared from the stands, his entire body converted into a bolt of pure energy. His seat was empty save for the lingering sparks of lightning.

  "And there he goes," Selene chuckled, watching his lightning arc briefly through the sky before vanishing near the archive.

  Lucen, shaking his head, let out a rueful laugh. "You've always had a way with words, Meme, and always know how to move people."

  Selene looked at Lucen, her smile fading. "Maybe... but it seems my words took a while to move you."

  Lucen sighed, leaning back in his seat, his gaze sweeping over the training grounds. "No... I just move faster than you can keep up with. I moved exactly where you need me. I'm still waiting. But you seem to have more rocks in your path than you care to admit."

  Before Selene could deliver a sharp retort, a silver-furred Lycan leaped down beside her. His approach was silent, and his presence was almost non-existent. The Lycan immediately leaned in and whispered something urgently in her ear.

  Selene's expression instantly changed, shock and anger plain on her face. She stood up so quickly the motion knocked the air out of Lucen's chest.

  "What is it, Selene?" Lucen asked.

  "Darius and the Grand Master Inquisitor have decided to release all of the Archbishops," Selene responded, her voice tight with disbelief and rising anger.

  "What?!" Lucen exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

  She didn't want to involve herself in this nonsense, but what the hell was he thinking?

  Selene was already moving, her focus locked on a distant goal, her pace accelerating from a walk to a near run. Lucen reached out to grab her hand but missed by a hair's breadth. He watched her storm away, her regal form already fading into the bustling crowd. He mumbled under his breath, the irony of their conversation biting at him.

  "And he's an absolute boulder... that one."

  He then shouted, "Wait for me!" and sprinted after her.