After their daily practice, his usual routine settled again.
From time to time, he checked on the dwarven prisoners through the chat box, but what they told him last time sent shivers to shake his soul.
Against all odds, the werewolves voted against dissecting them. Instead, they wanted to turn them into their kin and make them have children. That way, their offspring could inherit their ability to level up and spread it to the entire community after a few generations.
Honestly, he didn't know what to tell them. He felt so many things, like outrage at their unfair situation, anger because he couldn't help them, and sadness. A deep sense of sadness engulfed his mind, making him depressed for the first time in this world.
'My progress in enchantment is good. But my strength...'
He couldn't progress before next year's inter-academy tournament, or the arcanists would revoke his participation. After all, how unfair would it be for a full-fledged mage to sweep the floor with acolytes and apprentices? Yet, without growing stronger, he couldn't save the dwarves in time or complete Selene's request.
'I need the arrogant sun's help for my project. I can't let the opportunity slide.'
He cursed, feeling an invisible weight crush onto his shoulders. Yet, his eyes burned with determination.
'Before this academic year ends, I'll save them. I can only hope it wouldn't be too late for the dwarves by then.'
His resolve cemented, he pushed himself off the chair and walked out of his room.
The smiling figures of Nova and Elara greeted his eyes under December's sky as a cold breeze ruffled his hat.
"We are almost late! Did you take everything?"
Elara's worried voice resounded. Her eyes darted, scanning his frame. Upon noticing the most critical item attached to his belt, she sighed in relief.
Meanwhile, Nova chuckled.
"I can't get used to that strange red mark under your right eye. Come on, tell me what it does!"
"I already told you. You just don't want to believe me."
He shook his head, walking to pet the meowing Stella cradled in her arms.
"That story again? I know you are pranking me. There is no way it allows you to see things in slow motion!"
"Keep not believing me, then."
He shrugged, turning to Elara.
She nodded, guiding them to the Gate.
On the way, he smirked at Nova. He really told her the truth. Using the theory he learned in Vivian's grimoire, he developed an enchantment attuned to lightning. With it, the images the puppet fed him travelled faster into his soul, making them much slower than what they were.
'It's powerful and usable in battle and crafting. Yet, if my adversary is too fast, I won't be able to react even if I see his strikes coming.'
Just thinking about the problem made him frown and confirmed his vision of power.
'External tools are good, but nothing beats personal strength.'
After a short walk, they met with the other academy students guided by Moira and the other teachers.
When the dean noticed their group approach, he could swear he saw her snort.
'Let's see if you snort when you lose your bets.'
Without waiting for instructions, he crossed the Gate, stepping foot before a gigantic gothic castle.
Bright lights pierce the dark walls, making the building seem like a living beast in his eyes. Tall towers, arced gates and bridges connecting everything in a canvas of somber yet alluring colors made him wonder who designed the academies. Each was a work of art in its own right.
Awed by the construct, he took a few steps forward before excited yells reverberated.
On the side, he noticed the college students guided by Shepard. And among them, Julius, Arun, Asha, and Louise waved at him with bright smiles.
Without a moment's delay, he blurred into motion, joining them.
"Hahaha. Finally, standing with friends!"
He chuckled, embracing the two boys and nodding at the girls.
However, Shepard squinted and clenched his teeth.
"After three months, don't tell me you made no friends in the academy."
He pursed his lips in response and rolled his eyes.
"What friend can I make when Moira treats me like an outcast?"
His mentor's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
"What did you do? There is no way she would treat you like that without a reason. I wrote to her about your abilities and asked her to mentor you for three months."
He pointed at the approaching Elara, unbothered by the suspicion.
"She teaches there. I promised her she could bet on me. So take her items and add them to yours."
Shepard instantly went to meet her. This matter was of critical importance to him. Worse, to his prestige as an arcanist. If Adam did something wrong, he would have nothing to say about Moira's doings. However, if she bullied his disciple and ignored his letter...
Gray smoke wafted from his eyes as he questioned Elara.
Meanwhile, Adam grinned at his friends. Moira's actions didn't matter to him. Of course, they annoyed him for a day or two before he moved on. After all, what better way to humiliate her than to surpass her expertise in her own field while she still underestimated him?
"Are you confident in winning?"
Arun patted his shoulder, eyes sparkling.
"Yeah. I'll beat them all and get first place!"
Julius nodded at his words, confident in his brother's claims. Even after three months of training and learning under Alexander and Nathan, he still couldn't believe how well-rounded Adam was. The most shocking thing to him had been to see his progress day by day without understanding how incredible they were.
"We'll cheer for you. Show them who's the best battle monster player!" He exclaimed, raising his thumb and smiling like a kid.
The other college students yelled in confirmation, their voices coming out as one and drawing the other academies' attention.
Amidst the crowd, he noticed Zenobia's silver hair dancing as she cupped her hands to shout encouragements.
With a mischievous smile, he walked to her, retrieving a talisman from his pouch.
"Here. To thank you for helping me last year."
He extended it, revealing the Moonsilver striker's body painted on it.
Her eyes trembled in disbelief, and her voice cracked.
"R-really? I-I can't accept!"
"Just take it and have fun."
He winked at her, shoving it into her shaking palm.
As he returned to his group, a deep voice shook the air, startling every student.
"Welcome to this year's battle monster tournament!"
A cloud of dense, colorful smoke obscured the sky. Mighty, leathery wings blasted it next, revealing a handsome man. He combed his raven black hair back as his luxurious tuxedo fluttered with each flapping of his wings.
"For those who don't know me, I'm arcanist Edgar Voldaren, the Academy of Summoning's dean and your host for this competition."
With gradual speed, he landed on a roof before continuing.
"Let me enunciate a few rules to make the competition pleasant for everyone."
He raised a finger, his voice turning from welcoming to solemn.
"I know you are all competitors, but don't forget that it is a game. Any actions taken outside of the official matches will result in an immediate disqualification."