“That’s true.” The Dean acknowledged her proposal in a way that Gwen felt bordered on insult. “Thanks to that display, I’d almost forgot your exotic mental predicament. We wouldn't want that flaring up in the middle of a match now. Still, promise me you won't just do as you please.”

“I will listen to Senior Bai to the best of my abilities,” Gwen assured the Dean.

“And I will heed Gwen's advice as needed,” Tei promised besides her. “We’re a team, as she said.”

“You can work it out among yourselves.” The Dean affirmed approvingly. "I am glad we have finalised the list. Two months left until our first match, have you lodged your deferment?”

"Yessir."

“I’d prefer to keep studying,” Gwen stated. “Semester Two is going to start anyway.”

“I am afraid that’s impossible. You’ll be travelling in and out of Shanghai starting August,” the Dean reminded her. “It's normal for students to defer their studies during the IIUC - or are you saying you’re not confident you’ll last until February?”

February inferred the final match, not to mention the much-lauded award ceremony seen around the world.

“There’s much studying to be done before a match as well, you’ll receive the location and a general guideline for the match weeks prior, though as for the fine details of the Quest, you won't know until the day.”

At the Dean's insistence, Gwen reassessed her schedule.

Should she defer? It was probably the right idea. She wasn’t so arrogant to think she could pass her courses while travelling away for two weeks every month for four months, then again well into February, not to mention there remained work to be done in Nantong and with the House of M.

“I shall heed your advice, Sir. Thank you.” Gwen bowed.

The Dean gave her a paternal pat on the head.

“I look forward to your performance, Miss Song.”

“Of course.” Gwen received the Dean’s benediction. “I’ll be sure not to disappoint!”

“Good. Tei, what do you think about the team makeup?” The Dean turned to Tei. “Sound me out.”

“Of course, Sir.” Tei bowed. “The core members are me, Gwen and Karie. The teams are flexible, but ordinarily, I would suggest the three of us plus a member for Control, for example, Richard or Kitty, and another Offence, such as Lulan, Rene or Jiro, depending on environment and our competition's makeup.”

“That’s good.”

“Conversely, for missions requiring mobility, I’d suggest replacing myself with Anita, bring in Richard to replicate my counter-dispelling, then Kitty and or Lulan. For base defence Quests, we can split the teams, with a mobile strike team emphasising firepower, while Jiro would work wonders on defence with his persistent flames. So long as Gwen remains in play with her Familiars, we shouldn't have issues with small-scale encounters.”

“I notice our Cleric appears to be missing. You haven’t seen the synergy between Gwen and a Positive Energy user yet, have you?”

“No Sir.”

The Dean chuckled.

“Make sure you do. Now, what’s your opinion on our two trouble makers?”

“Karie isn’t normally so obtuse,” Tei defended his former team member. “I’ll speak to her when I get the chance. Maybe it’s something at home.”

“Kitty should come around,” Gwen defended her ‘friend’ as well, thinking perhaps Mia or Miss Maymyint could help. “I’ll convince her, one way or another.”

“Then I shall rest reassured.” The Dean tapped the table thoughtfully. “It is possible to replace members mid-competition, but only if they’re dead or incapacitated. Concurrently, there’s also a penalty for bringing in members mid-competition due to casualties: five per cent, if I recall correctly, so let’s not make any mistakes. If those two are not suitable…”

Fudan's Captain and Vice-Captain both gulped.

“Not that I am without confidence in the two of you.” The Dean cleared his throat. “But you should spend time with your team. I am thinking of sending you all to get to know each other in an Orange Zone, nothing too serious, a light exercise.”

“That would be ideal, Sir.” Gwen’s eyes lit up. “We can do synergy building!”

“Yes, I'd thought you might have something in mind. I’ll let you know when I have the details. It’ll have to be somewhere isolated, and a senior staff member will accompany you.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Then that’s it. I'll put out the notice. You two, stay out of trouble.”

Bai and Gwen both bowed.

“You especially.” The Dean gave Gwen an expectant look. “Stay clean for two months!”

Monday-week: a semi-circle of students studied the bulletin board.

2004 IIUC Final Selection:

**Offence:** Gwen **Song** (Vice Captain)
 **Offence** : Lulan **Li**
**Offence:** Rene **Mui
** **Offence:** Jiro **Peng
** **Defence:** Bai **Tei** (Captain)
**Defence:** Anita **Wong**
**Control:** Richard **Huang
** **Control:** Kitty **Liang
** **Utility:** Karie **Mok**
**Utility:** Eunae **Lee**

"Do you think they'll broadcast this year's IIUC?" an anonymous voice raised an important question.

"They better." A member of the Fudan DC slapped the first on the back. "I, for one, look forward to seeing our Captain and the Worm Handler on Vid-cast!"

Karie Mok sat in the living room of her family’s estate, drowning out the silence by cranking up the Vid-caster.

With a clumsy fumble, she poured herself a thimble of her father’s Zhuyeqing, a white wine fermented in the hollow of a still-growing giant bamboo, then knocked it back in one gulp.

The sticky alcohol crawled down her throat like a line of fire, its vitality flushing her body with a gradual warmness that dispelled the bone-chilling paranoia she had acquired since returning from Dean Luo's competition.

The day prior, she had spoken to Tei Bai, and the two of them had parted amicably, with Karie promising to perform her duty.

Now, she was regretting everything.

“Young Miss…” Lao Gu, an old butler of the family that had followed her from Shandong when she was just a child, eyed the bottle nervously. Like most of the city’s fu-er-dai, his young miss was prone to occasional excess.

Ignoring the NoM, Karie poured herself another thimble.

Though she wasn’t the future-telling sort of Diviner, she wasn't imperceptive enough to ignore her Sigil. What her gut feeling told her was that under no circumstances should she further involve herself with Gwen Song.

The paralysing dread had caught her entirely unaware, as only a week ago, she had been filled with optimism and hope that 2004 was going to be different.

Yesteryear, their Team Captain had been an arrogant Clanner from the Wutang mountains, a Kenshi from one of the oldest sects in China. He had ignored Vice-Captain Bai’s advise at every turn, going so far as to antagonise the intelligence Karie had Scried when she contradicted his assessments. In Tibet, as a result of the idiot’s decision to play the ‘fisherman’ against the ‘clam and the crane’, Tsinghua had taken the egg while the rest of them were left fending off a very angry mama-Roc.

So this year, when Tei told her that he was vying to be Captain, she had naturally assumed that she was going to be his second. That way, cooler heads would prevail, not to mention as the only Diviner and the team’s chief source of intelligence, she was the pragmatic option.

The addition of Gwen Song had been another reason why Karie had been glad to be participating in her final IIUC. The new girl was phenomenal, her talents and her combat track-record both unmatched - if rumours could be believed. Through her family connections, Karie had verified that the girl had out-duelled Wonsoo Liu, the famous Battle Mage. If so, it meant that Fudan had a powerhouse on par with low-tier Magisters from the Front. With herself in command and Bai wielding Gwen Song, breaking through the Asian round was assured. Merely imagining a Jap Shikigami eating a Void-sphere to its Core was enough to send shivers down Karie's spine.

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A shiver without cessation.

When they had met face to face, a sudden sliver of eldritch ice had pierced Karie's spine, then twisted its sinews and nerves until her face was bloodless. During the exchange, when the Void sorceress twice attempted to speak to Karie, the Diviner's nerves had revolted.

Instinctively, she wanted to leave there and then, but she couldn't risk losing so much 'face'. The price of quitting was too high, even if her Sigil warned that attending the IIUC with Gwen Song meant courting death.

She cursed her second-rate bloodline.

To drop out now - what would her parents think? Of course, the IIUC was dangerous, her father would say, of course, people died. But she went to the last one, didn’t she? If she was afraid, why had she joined in the first place? Furthermore, she wasn’t the foretelling sort of Diviner, so who knew if her prediction was even accurate? Chalk it up to nerves! Her parents would say. She should toughen up and get on with it! Chairman Mao didn’t give up on the Long March even knowing that most of his comrades would perish!

And they would be right.

Would her father give up on a venture because he might lose money? Would the army stop protecting its citizens because PLA Mages may perish?

Karie wasn’t the Oracle of Delphi; she was just a young woman, a mundane one at that. She wanted to be an Intelligence Officer, maybe work in the Central Bureau, serving as the occasional Field Officer only when needed, ideally a safe distance away from the Front.

But this was death! Her prescience pierced her morbid mind. She had to choose life!

Having never imperilled life and limb, she couldn’t imagine how such a thing was going to happen. Was Gwen Song going to murder her? Was a Mongolian Deathworm how she met her end? Perhaps the Void sorceress would err in a moment of crisis, then Karie would die in an uneventful accident.

Ensnared by visions and revisions, the Diviner floated between decision and destiny. Was it even possible to change fate?

She took another sip.
The throbbing in her head dulled.
The pinging of her Sigil quelled.

She felt like a proverbial carp wedged between a rock and a hard place.

After all, what was the point of being famous, and deceased?

“A toast to the 2004 Fudan IIUC team members!”

A few minutes into the party, Karie Mok knew she was going to be sick.

It didn’t take a Diviner to foretell that turning up to a mixer with a hangover wasn’t the best idea.

The group had gathered at Gwen Song’s behest at M on the Bund, a chic riverside cafe overlooking the most scenic stretch of the Huangpu River. In the past, Karie had once or twice enjoyed high tea with her friends here.

That a section had been cleared out and reserved solely for ten university students was a scene she’d never expected. Even for someone at her family’s stratum of wealth, it seemed like a waste of money.

Gingerly, hoping that her brain wouldn’t spill from her ears like soup, she scanned the faces sitting around the circular table:

Lulan Li, Senior Tei, Jiro and Anita weren’t affluent by any means. The girl from Seoul, Eunae, wasn’t going to splurge on people she’d never seen before. Kitty Liang? Never heard of her. Richard Huang? She heard he was a workaholic. It meant that only Gwen Song had the clout to burn the hundred odd HDMs necessary to empty a place like M on the Bund for something as trivial as a celebratory dinner.

Karie wasn’t opposed to diplomatic generosity, but when the host was stuffing her to a barrel to throw her into the Huangpu River, she could hardly summon the enthusiasm expected of her.

In a moment, the entrée arrived, a fist-sized 'drunken' South Sea Scampi ceviche in shell, served over a bed of crystalline lychee flesh.

Karie held her breath.

The rich aroma of sweetened mirin was enough to force her stomach into bouts of convulsion. She wanted to leave, to go home, curl up into a ball, then find a way to call this whole thing off.

“Senior Mok, Are you alright?”

Karie looked up to see a pair of vividly amber-emerald irises bearing down with the weight of mountains.

Gwen Song, resplendent in a shimmering little black dress, had been making the rounds, wooing the contestants, standing so tall in her heels that should her peers slink back in their seats, they could kiss the flesh of her thighs.

“I am okay,” Karie lied. Comparatively, she wore comfortable casual cotton. The invitation had stated semi-formal, except Karie was neither in the mood nor the right state of health to make herself ready.

“You look pale.” The girl reached out with a wayward hand, her white fingers landing gently against Karie's shoulders.

“!”

Without warning, a deathly dread engendered.
Her host's touch was vivifying.
Karie almost leapt from her seat; such was the shock surging through her marrows, travelling up her spine to hammer at her teeth, that she bit her tongue.

“Jesus, Karie, you're as white as a sheep!” The accursed Void Sorceress leaned in until her face was an inch away. “Eunae, can you come and see if Karie’s okay? I think she’s coming down with something.”

“No!” Karie turned from the girl's demonic gaze. She took a chunk of raw scampi and threw the translucent flesh into her mouth. “See? I am fine! I just, oh…”

The raw prawn, the mirin, the peculiar crustacean savouriness, all of it was too much.

'Bluuarrrrgh~!'

Before she could swallow, her hangover escaped her body, permeating their group's surroundings with rancid expulsions.

Without expression, Karie's host allowed the admixture of acid and undigested canapè to slide from her shoes.

“Goodness, Karie. Can I get you some water?”

Mao! Was her future murderer trying to kill her with kindness?! The Diviner moaned audibly before raising a foul-smelling hand that sent the rest of the table reeling.

She took Gwen by the hem of her dress.

The girl was fighting her revulsion, Karie could see that, and she was winning.

“I don’t want to go,” Karie begged.

“What?” Gwen blinked.

“Please…” She slumped against the girl's abdomen, pleading and blubbering. “Don’t make me go to the IIUC… I don’t want to die.”

It took several seconds for the rest of the party to fall into a sombre silence.

If anyone else had just said that, they could have laughed it off, but Karie was their Diviner. If a Diviner was begging to leave, what did that foreshadow?

Slick with sick and lukewarm with the foul expulsion of Karie’s gut-wrenching plea, the party’s host turned to regard the rest of her team.

“Don’t worry,” she intoned carefully, keeping her face straight and her smile untouched. “I am sure that's the alcohol talking.”

The rest of the team agreed to reconvene a few days later.
To continue the party after a display like that was impossible. Even if the House of M cleaned up the mess, the glaring asymmetry of their team makeup would only serve to produce paranoia in the team members.

Worse still, the news of Karie’s withdrawal had somehow spread.

Gwen sighed. They weren't the bloody Fellowship of the Ring, but to think they'd suffer a casualty so soon was goddamn disheartening that she couldn't help but feel cursed. She hadn’t expected that they’d become friends quickly, but to think her team would grow distant before they had gotten close was unacceptable.

And this was why she was now in the Dean’s office with Senior Bai, discussing countermeasures.

“I don’t know where else we can find another dedicated Diviner.” Bai exhaled with exasperation. “I am sorry Sir, I failed you.”

“No, no, Mr Bai.” Dean Luo massaged his temples once Gwen and Bai made their case. “One has to wonder what in Mao's crystal tomb was going through Miss Mok’s head. Sufficient to say, her career, in more ways than one, ended before it began, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I don’t blame her,” Gwen intervened on the young Diviner’s part. “Being from the Frontier, I’ve seen death, Sir. I would even say I have come close to experiencing it half a dozen times. Daring death and danger aren't for the faint-hearted; I can entirely empathise with Miss Mok if she lacks the mental fortitude.”

The Dean shook his head.

Were he not confident that Jiantong and their competitors had signed bilateral pacts of non-interference, he'd have suspected foul play. To be caught committing a criminal act against the terms of the IIUC would disqualify the institution for the foreseeable future and drastically undermine one's academic standing. Likewise, if one must move against Fudan, why not target Gwen? Be it bodily harm, scandal, bribery or any other form of creative larceny; each method was superior to forcing out a Diviner he could replace with a dozen lessers.

“This puts our plan in disarray, but alas, there’s good news as well.” To Gwen and Tei's surprise, the Dean grinned. When fate conspired to make one succeed, what could one do but thank the heavens?

“Sir?” His students looked up expectantly.

“Miss Maymyint, you may come in now.”

The two students turned to see the House of M’s premier representative in a python-skin leather outfit that left little to the imagination. When their eyes met, Miss Maymyint’s lips split to form a toothy smile.

“Miss Song, well met.”

“Miss Maymyint!” Gwen gasped. “You’re still here in Shanghai?”

“Business, dear, you should know that. Have you checked your account lately? We've paid you a sizable bonus to aid you in your future endeavours.” Maymyint’s voice drifted across the room sultry and sweet, carrying the slightest hint of a lisp.

“Hahaha…” Gwen answered awkwardly, not wishing to talk shop in front of the Dean. She had indeed checked her account recently. Between her Tonglv coffer and her House of M proceeds, Gwen could purchase an apartment or two near Fudan without crippling her bottom line. Were she not so absurdly busy with matters of magic and the competition itself, she would have invested the money by now, likely into a Wang Group commercial property.

“Miss Maymyint said she wanted to surprise you.” The Dean nodded at the woman, one he had met through the Grey Faction’s trade conferences. “I think we found our Diviner.”

“OH MY GOD, MIA?” Gwen instantly connected the dots, squealing despite herself.

Maymyint affirmed Gwen's hypothesis with a nod.

“Wonderful! How come? She said the House of M wouldn't consent."

"I now consent." Mayuree's eldest sister flashed her pearly teeth. "I am sure Mia would love to help a friend in need."

"Ha! That she does! When will Mia be back?”

“I am afraid she won’t be.”

“W-what?” Gwen caught herself, confused by Maymyint's apologetic expression. “But you said…”

“Your team will be heading over to meet with Miss Mayuree.” A boisterous grin touched his face. “Not only has the House of M entered the IIUC as a sponsor, but they’re also offering to pay for the first round wholesale. Miss Maymyint has told me that Jiantong and our old nemesis, Tokyo U, have both agreed to the location of the first match in Burma.”

“Esteemed sir, it's Myăma.” Maymyint coughed gently.

“Ah, my apologies,” Dean Luo bowed his head. “So: Gwen, Tei, what do you think? It’ll be a home game away from home. Your team will travel to Myăma in October, and Miss Mayuree will meet you there.”

Both Tei and Gwen turned to regard Mayuree’s sister with expressions of awe.

“Hahaha…” Maymyint let loose a string of cackling laughter. “How charming you children look. Think nothing of it. Gwen has brought us many boons, more than she knows.”

Gwen blushed, as did Bai for a different reason. Suddenly her heart filled her with glee and gladness. With a blessing such as this, it was entirely possible to bring the team back on track. With a ‘home ground’ advantage in having the House of M as their sponsor and a member of the House of M on their team, they possessed every advantage.

“Sir, wouldn’t there be a conflict of interest?” Gwen asked just in case.

“You think Oxford and Cambridge play fair when they threw LMU and Sorbonne into the forest of Gwydir?" Dean Luo was in a good mood. "Some of the Brits have Elven blood, you know!”

How was she supposed to know that?

“Gwen, the IIUC Examination Committee is an independent organisation with an oversight committee consisting of European, American and Asian Towers’ senior members,” Bai explained patiently. “Contestants must also submit themselves to surveillance magic by wearing a special beacon on their persons. Having local knowledge doesn't incur a penalty. As a matter of fact, teams are encouraged to visit early to learn the local customs.”

Gwen grimaced; she had almost forgotten this world’s obsession with panopticon surveillance.

"I can hardly wait." She breathed out.

"I know how you feel." Maymyint's eyes formed two thin slits. "You know what they say - absence make the heart fonder!"


“Once again, toast!”

Celebratory dinner 2.0 at M by the Bund proceeded happily.

Though the team had initially grown cynical over Karie’s departure, the news that a bona fide bloodline Diviner would replace Karie had come as a welcoming boon. Additionally, when Gwen announced that the first match would take place in Myăma and that their Diviner and the local sponsor were both her close confidants, the team grew hot with anticipation for the first round.

If even with insider knowledge, the support of the local populace, as well as the favour of the country’s government they still lost - then Fudan should probably give up participating in the IIUC for the foreseeable future.

“This time, we’ll show those bangzi and wokou the might of the middle-kingdom!” Anita, the Mineral Transmuter-Abjurer, suddenly dropped a bomb in Gwen's lap. Hailing from Manchuria, the woman had grown up in a region where nationalism ran high after the Sino conflict.

Mild racism, weak to alcohol. Gwen noted.

Banzi, referring to a corncob, was an ethnic slur for conquered Koreans: during the occupation of Manchuria by Japan's Seventh Army, enslaved Korean Mages were given oft-faulty wands by their commanders, resulting in the spectacle of mana-drained mages having to beat the occasional Chinese rebel-fighter to death with a stout rod of transmuted metal.

Wokuo, meanwhile, referred to Japanese pirates that marauded throughout the 8th to the 17th century, raping and pillaging China’s coastal cities while its apathetic scholar-bureaucrats watched with disdain, too busy with in-fighting to enable a meaningful mobilisation.

Before Anita could deliver a second jingo, Gwen rose from her seat, distracting Jiro and their on-loan Cleric while Bai silently Messaged Anita.

Meticulously, she annotated her mental HR roster.

Their defender hailed from Beijing. Her family was military, thus ensuring that she had attended three separate high schools before arriving in Shanghai. Cool-headed when sober, the Mineral Mage possessed a strong nurturing instinct. When complimented about her cropped hair, she inferred that her father had always wanted a son. When she got older, leaving her hair long became insufferable for someone used to let their scalp breathe. From Gwen's observation, the young woman had taken a keen interest in the diminutive Eunae.

Across the table, Rene was the sole daughter of a mining magnate in Guangdong, formerly Canton under the Mageocracy, whose holdings over the Thundering Peninsular allowed him to establish a commanding presence from the mainland Frontier to the volcanic half-island. After three toasts, Rene furthermore revealed that she wasn’t the real daughter of House Mui, but an adopted one. Her mentor, Instructor Chen, was a family friend who hailed from the same region, acting as her guardian in Shanghai.

Jiro’s introduction was tamer by comparison - he was just a regular rube, the young man explained - until he became trapped in an Elemental Dungeon near Hubei. While inside, he was separated from his peers and ended up surviving without support for a month. While avoiding certain death, dizzy with hunger, he discovered a raided Firebird nest and rescued a remaining egg.

“I was going to eat it…” Jiro explained, too honest for his good. “When I cooked it with Flaming Hands, it hatched. Since Tanyu would have died without food and without its parents, I formed a contract with it.”

The party burst into laughter and applause at the serendipity of Jiro’s fantastic rendezvous with fate. 'Miraculous encounters’, as the Taoists would have it, was a matter of karmic cause, a predestined gift from heaven. Though such gains could be brought to term by human intervention, the results were seldom as spectacular as ‘destiny’.

“Tanyu! Fly!”

With a word from Jiro, his bird burst from his forehead, trickling a flaming trail of embers. Despite the sudden fever felt by Gwen on her face and arms, not a single strand of her hair curled, indicating the immense control Jiro possessed over the flames. Unlike Gwen’s Familiars, however, Elemental Spirits manifested only momentarily, incapable of holding its corporeal-form for long.

“Sal!” Rene intoned, inspired by Jiro's display. With a sizzling burst of sulphur, something that looked like a log of smouldering tar about the size of a football rolled onto the floor, charring the polished wood.

“Oh shit!”

Decommissioning her spirit, Rene apologised profusely.

Indeed a hot head, Gwen noted mentally. One prone to impulse, not unlike Yue. Conversely, Jiro's temperament was more constrained, likely owing to his Firebird and his mundane middle-class upbringing.

"Not to worry," Gwen assured the Evoker. "It's nothing."

Next, she turned her attention to Eunae, who squirmed beside the Void sorceress.

Eunae dared not disobey her Vice Captain, though the proximity of Caliban a foot away was enough to keep her in flight or flightier mode. To prevent her escape, Ariel prodded the Positive Energy caster with its tentacle whiskers, demanding scratches behind the ears. Thus knuckle-deep in Ariel's luxurious, celestial coat; the Cleric complied.

'The meek shall inherit the earth' Gwen observed of Eunae, though she wondered how the meek hoped to keep it. When in Myăma, their healer may need a Gunther-esque lesson in ultraviolence.

"That's enough about us; what about you?" Anita pointed a pair of chopsticks her way.

As for Gwen, a one-two combo of survival and sacrifice in Sydney by Richard and herself was enough to win her new friends over. When Lulan further interjected with her story of Gwen's timely rescue, the others clapped and cheered, toasting their indomitable Vice-Captain, who downed half-a-dozen shots without so much as a blink.

But the morbidness of her tale paled against the magnificence of Richard’s Familiar, the Undine Lea, who had instantly enthralled the group with her elfin elegance and ethereal grace.

“Through Richard, I got to see the world!” Lea flitted about, enchanting every eye from around the room. It wasn’t every day that a diaphanously shawled humanoid Spirit with unfathomable bean-green pools for irises allowed herself to be gawked at by mortals.

Charmed, a tipsy Jiro fervently declared that he too wanted Tanyu to assume a humanoid form; ideally, one with a long head of flame-orange hair, trailing embers from her dress, fully embracing Dean Luo's Path of the Dutch wife.

When finally with the last dessert dusted, Gwen could see that the team had regained its morale.

Very soon, with the Dean’s blessing, the team would travel to the Yancheng Frontier for a training retreat. There, for the next month, they would patrol the newly enclosed Orange Zone, helping the locals as they dealt with Nantong's overflow of exiled magical fauna, supervised by none other than Eric Walken.

Monday.

Fudan Handan campus training arena.

“I am sorry, Percy,” Gwen apologised to her Message bangle. “I'll be stuck at Yancheng for a few weeks; we’re leaving in two days.”

The remiss was entirely her fault. Gwen's brother had reminded her a month ago and then again just now that Xiangming DC was participating in the best of eight from Metropolitan Shanghai, but as a result of Karie's fiasco, Gwen had forgotten all about her promise to attend Percy's matches.

Both siblings had held great expectations, for in the months since his injury, Percy’s talents had blossomed yet again. Though not in possession of the sheer number of Schools Gwen was known for, his ability to exercise new spells effortlessly in combat far outpaced his already prodigious peers.

“Fine, Mei says hi,” Percy sulkily mumbled his disappointment. “I suppose the IIUC is more important than some district comp…”

“You’re a hundred years too young to guilt trip me, ya little prick,” Gwen fired back. “Send me the Lumen-recordings. Are Babulya and Gramps going?”

“Yep,” Percy answered quickly, hiding his embarrassment. “Wish me luck?”

“Go get em,” Gwen chirped happily. “Break a leg.”

“Why would I break-”

Gwen hung up.

“Okay, sorry about that.” Gwen turned back to her training partners. “Let’s pick up where we left off.”

Her body rose into the air, buoyed by a growing mastery of Flight. In a shimmering moment, a double-glazed sphere encased her surroundings.

“Lava Burst!”

Rene had been stewing her mid-range assault for a whole two minutes while Gwen took the call. From a tear in space, a phosphorescent orange geyser poured into the shielded arena, flooding the constrained space with the stink of sulphur.

Gwen’s Shield caught the worst of the strike, rapidly turning opaque as the torrent of molten silica rapidly cooled, petrifying against her barrier.

“Nice! Void Seeker!”

A dark ring of soundless Void tore through the haze of smoke and ash, making straight for Rene.

“Anita!”

“I see it! Barrier Shard!” The Mineral Mage expanded a barrier of calcite into the air, intercepting Gwen’s Void projectile. The ring bit deep, almost exhausting the depth of the pearlescent wall even as it regenerated.

“Ball Lightning!”

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Gwen commanded her Familiar to join the fray.

Ariel appeared on the far side of the duelling arena, its Invisibility shedding with the empowerment of its stag horns. After a split-second of incandescence, four electric orbs struck Gwen’s opponents square in the back before erupting into spheres of crackling electricity each a meter-wide.

“Replenish!” Anita replaced the black and charred shards of Mage Armour with a word, grunting as her mana dipped just below half. Comparatively, her opponent wasn't even sweating. Their Vice-Captain had been tossing out mid-tier attacks like popcorn from a griller. “Resist Elements!”

“Cone of Lava!” Rene’s comically translated invocation manifested as a raging torrent of magma and stone, possessing an equally fantastic capacity for material and elemental damage. At the spell's apex, just as it connected with Gwen’s Shield, the Evoker unleashed a second-stage spell shape.

Now under the command of Transmutation, the spray of molten stone transformed into a pair of clasping hands, catching Gwen’s spherical Shield like a baseball caught between a pair of smouldering mitts.

"Calcify!"

Anita followed up with a Transmutation of her own, coaxing jagged crystalline spikes from the cooling stone.

“Dimension Door!” Gwen reappeared just below the splash of lava as the two halves met with a terrific crunch. Above and below her exit, an erupting pustule of tenebrous Void-ink consumed the falling debris.

“Cone of Lightning!” she fired back a fan-shaped blast of her own, filling the space between her and her teammates with sizzling streams of cobalt electricity.

“Barrier!”

Both Anita and Rene took a burst of fulmination to the face before Anita’s blockade stymied the brunt of Gwen’s assault.

“Blink!” Rene moved past the barrier as soon as their mutual line of sight was lost, shedding a cluster of ruined hexagonal calcite rods.

As she emerged, a coiled Caliban, invisible and waiting, took her full in the abdomen before curling itself around the girl in the manner of a boa constrictor.

“Spike!” Anita activated the embedded effect of her Mage Armour.

Rene watched as the Mage Armour's calcite shards penetrated the creature’s carapace.

"Burst!" A follow-up trigger ensured grievous injury.

The fiend's masochistic response was to open its protective shell, expelling a mass of pulsating purple flesh.

Gwen took a hit in vitality as she readied Ariel for another strike.

“Lightning Bolt!”

Anita took the brunt of the formidable discharge, discarding another dozen rods of charred calcite, made brittle after redirecting the lightning sorceress’s assault.

“Rene, Blink back!”

“I can’t! It’s got- oh shit!”

A wave of vertigo and nausea washed over the Magma Mage as Caliban's Void-tinged fluids smothered her. The calcite 'burst' had been a terrible misstep.

“Time out! Time out!” Anita waved frantically at Gwen. “Rene’s going to be sick!”

And she was.

After Caliban kissed her on the head with lamprey tentacle, the defender was on the floor spewing her guts out. Gwen told her Familiar to back off before it could make matters worse with its singing.

“Anita, Rene, are the both of you alright?”

“Yeah, I am fine.” Anita dispelled her Crystal Skin. “Rene?”

“I'll be fine soon…” the young woman was on all fours, forcing herself to ventilate. Being a student of Instructor Chen, her recovery was quicker than most. “I can’t wait to see our opponents face Caliban.”

“Ha.” Gwen grinned, materialising towels for her teammates. “Eunae!”

“Coming!”

A deer Sprite, cute as a button, hopped toward the trio.

“Invigorate!” Eunae dropped a low-tier buff, dispelling Rene's vertigo, quickening her allies’ restoration of mana and stamina.

“Gwen, how large is your mana pool?” Anita’s glass-like irises flashed. “I am counting eleven T-5 and fourteen T-3 to 4 spells, and that's discounting your Shield and your Familiars.”

Gwen grinned awkwardly.

“She’s at half-tank,” Richard called out from the sidelines.

“No way!” A clamour broke out from the rest of the team, demanding her VMI.

“Gwen, you want to tell them?”

“I am sitting on...” Gwen made a cute face. “250… or so?”

The room grew silent, punctuated only by the occasional ‘Shaaa!’ ‘Eeee!’ and ‘Yii!’.

“I am on 82…” Rene appeared devastated.

“78…” Anita confessed. “I am relying on my Affinity for mana conservation and my Rock Eater for recycling…”

“I am a little happy that I didn’t take the opportunity to brag about my 71…” Jiro coughed. “But seriously - really?”

Gwen could only appear bashful. The matter of her VMI was a morally dubious subject. To brag would be worse than an insider trader telling their junior staff that if they pulled themselves up by the bootstraps, they too could sit on their laurels and retire with superannuation, surplus properties and stock options.

“Enough about me. Senior Peng, your fight with Richard was amazing.” Gwen made a masterful pivot.

Indeed, the duel between Richard and Jiro had indeed been incredible.

By the second minute, Gwen's cousin had filled the duelling arena with water, while Jiro had lined the wall with bubbling fire.

Were it not for Senior Bai’s intervention; the loser would have been severely injured, be it Richard being boiled alive, or Jiro drowning. Though Gwen suspected that Lea could have cycled the heated water back into the Elemental Plane, the draw was likely planned out by Richard to test Jiro's mettle. As a result, Gwen knew another thing about Jiro - the Fire Evoker would prefer to be unconscious than be beaten.

“I hope Myăma has plenty of water,” Lulan declared, having seen Richard in action in Nantong. “Senior Huang is indomitable where there are massive bodies of water.”

Conversely, Gwen noted that Lulan's optimism inferred Richard’s threat-level was effectively cut in half in arid environments, meaning Kitty would make the superior Controller.

As for their Kunlun Clanner, the girl did attend practice, though she remained aloof and apart from the rest of the team. As for promising to obey Gwen’s commands in combat, the girl had bitten her lip, then stared at her toes as though possessed.

What irked Gwen was Kitty's imperviousness to her persuasion, though her lack of cooperation did not imply incompetence.

In an earlier bout against Lulan, she had demonstrated supernatural aerial agility against the rapid assault of the Sword Mage, caught only by surprise when Lulan test-fired a Piercing Heart Sword at point-blank, sending the Shielded Ice Mage tumbling below.

Then, perhaps because of Gwen's passive-aggressive bitching, Lulan fell upon the Ice Mage with the ferocity of a frenzied badger. Having spent almost four months duelling Gwen and adventuring with Richard, the girl’s combat sense was sharper than a void-tinged razor. With the blunt edge of her massive, iron-girder blade, Lulan had beaten kitty around the enclosed space of the duelling arena until the girl was spewing rainbows, only stopping when Gwen commanded Lulan to return. In an open field, Kitty’s forte would truly shine, but duelling a CQB Caster like Lulan indoors demonstrated the greatest weakness of a Mage that relied on avoidance as a primary mode of defence.

“I take it Gwen doesn’t much like the Clanner?” Jiro nervously grinned as Lulan shook off icicles from her hair. “You know, our team has only two Sect-born Clanners. Senior Bai and Kitty. Maybe Dean Luo is not too happy with the Sects?”

“Won’t surprise me,” Rene observed likewise. “You know how they are. No offence, Senior Bai.”

“None taken.” Tei Bai battered a hand. “We did have a terrible Captain last year.”

"The Dean's going for broke.” Rene's pencil-faint lips formed a smile. “I think we might be the only team from China that’s not choked full of Sect Mages.”

“Good,” Anita joined the trio. “Less ego is fine with me.”

“I noticed another thing.” Jiro scratched his brows, then counted the members on his hands. “Does our team seem incredibly cosmopolitan to you?”

"For example - I am 'Japanese'," Jiro continued with a hint of self-loathing. "Eunae is South Korean, Lulu is an ex-Clanner, Captain Bai hails from one of the most respected Sects in Shandong, Richard is Australian-Chinese, Gwen looks Anglo, and our Diviner is Burmese."

"Now that you mention it." Bai appeared contemplative. "Last year, we were all locals, the whole ten of us."

The team regarded one another.

Perhaps it was serendipity, or maybe it was by design, but they were undoubtedly an ‘international’ team. Assuming Fudan broke through to the regional competition, wouldn’t it mean that all of Asia had something to cheer for, that someone in their squad would tickle a nationalist fancy here, there and everywhere?

Six pairs of eyes converged onto their Vice Captain, a woman who remained 'at half-tank' after duelling an offence-defence combo.

Each by each, Gwen's teammates wondered if they should prepare a speech for the Vid-Casts, just in case.

“Gwen is going to Burma.” Jun sat against the rails, looking out over the muggy city below, bathed the colour of a florid fruit shop. “Just like you said.”

“Then it has come to pass,” the Dragon-kin’s reply drifted out from the suite’s interior. When she emerged, it was with the bearing of a queen, regal in her gold-spun robes of midnight.

“Mao, you’re beautiful.” Jun's breath caught in his throat. Even after six months, his companion continued to surprise him.

“I know.” Ayxin willed a lounge to withdraw from the wicker coffee table before taking a seat.

“Ayxin, may I enquire after your sibling?”

“Of course. Do you mean Ruxin or Golos? Or heavens forbid, Ryxi?”

“Ruxin.” Jun realised his eyes no longer cared for the city, so he may as well take a seat beside his lover. “You said he was in Burma.”

“You're asking about something that occurred twenty, maybe thirty years ago.” Ayxin cocked her head, holding her lover's reflection intact between her golden irises, following her silhouette in his dark robs. “Our kind isn't cut out for maintaining filial relations.”

“Gwen tells me that her friend, the Burmese girl, told her that a Dragon overran their kingdom,” Jun began, taking care not to sound too concerned. A Dragon’s possessiveness could be triggered by the slightest provocation, which would deny further avenue of enquiry on Gwen's behalf. “Which incidentally, happened some two decades, ago, in 1982, to be exact, in Yangon.”

"So?"

“So Ruxin could arguably be this Tyrant,” Jun noted the change in Ayxin's demeanour. "The timestamp matches up."

“OR, the tyrant could be any other ambitious whelp. After all, my kind enjoys building lairs.”

"But powerful drakes are exceedingly rare, and I recall you saying Ruxin was on the hunt for a nest."

"Hmm~."

"For what purpose?"

"The lair?"

"Yes."

Ayxin spared the subtlest of glances at her still-flat abdomen.

“If you're that curious - Ruxin is just over six centuries, so he's at an age where his instinct for leaving offspring is strong. Unlike my father, whose magnificence permeates the land, melding with its leylines, Ruxin's obligations are physical, like ours.”

“Wait," Jun snorted. "Your kind goes ‘musth’?”

“Are you inferring that I am an Oliphant?”

The Ash Mage broke out in a terrific cold sweat.

“That was humour,” Ayxin assured her partner. “An Oliphant is no match for me. I could kill one right now if I wished. As for musth, I am too young for that and Ryxi is a sexless albino eel, so no, not all of our kind are subject to the instinct of procreation."

"Then..."

"For a true-blood like Ruxin, there is a period between the fifth and tenth century where our bodies mature; after that, high-dragons tend to shed their mortal coil. It's an uncertain time for an adult, for most of them will perish during these five centuries.”

“Now that IS news to me.” Jun was all ears. Ayxin's casual banter wasn't anything like the sort one would find in a textbook. He was learning mythic physiology straight from a dragon’s mouth. “Dragons are some of the most powerful beings on the Material Plane, so how is it that so few high-dragons exist?”

“Eaten by one another.” Ayxin shrugged attractively. “Going musth, or as we say, _vaeri di tobor vur marfedelom_ , serves as ritual and trial. Before ascension, our kind needs to mate. Before we can mate, they need a lair. The bigger the lair, the more likely you’re able to convince another dragon to submit. For true dragons, the rule is one drake, one mountain."

“So in Burma-”

“Assuming Ruxin is there,” Ayxin emphasised on the inferred ‘if’. “He would need to build a lair, an impressive one at that since our Father is a true ancient. After which he would wait for a competitor, ideally a pureblood, then best them.”

“And then?” Jun felt he may yet regret his curiosity.

Ayxin’s eye formed two smiling half-moons.

“Then they get industrious, as we shall,” she snickered. “Or Ruxin enjoys a nourishing meal. The consumption of other dragons equal in age can bolster our power.”

Jun’s mouth hung half-open.

“I am starting to see why there are so few dragons.”

“True dragons. There’s plenty of bastards.” Ayxin frowned as her mind brushed upon a particularly diluted bastard she had accosted in May. “Most creatures would be happy to submit.”

“I am assuming there’s a downside to mothering demi-Gods.”

“There is. For a mortal, gestation is rare without external aid, and bearing the child or egg to term is even rarer.”

“Your mother-”

Jun suddenly bit his tongue, realising his curiosity had gone a step too far.

“When she served as father's Divine Vessel, my mother was cared for by the best royal physicians the Dynasty had to offer.” The mirth in Ayxin's replies faded. When she next spoke, her tone was indifferent. “Your niece should be perfectly fine - so long as she doesn’t play the fool and pull the Tyrant’s whiskers.”

"Gwen, staying out of trouble?"

A flashback of Huangshan flashed across Jun’s mind’s eye. When Ayxin had caught him in her pocket dimension, he had fully expected Gwen to run. Instead, he had to extract Caliban from Golo’s rectum before it ate Ayxin’s brother from the inside out.

Straining the limits of his imagination, he tried his best to imagine Gwen NOT tearing off the Tyrant’s whiskers with an ‘HA!’

“Ayxin,” Jun implored with a hint of desperation. “What did Golos mean when he said he’d save her thrice?”


As an Orange Zone, Yancheng formed the largest prefecture in the Jiangsu Frontier, bordering Lianyungang to the north and Nantong to the south, with the Yellow Sea marking most of its coastal waters.

Like most of China’s coastal cities, the region had existed since antiquity. It's etymology - consisting of ‘salt’ and ‘city’, was derived from the region's abundance of sea salt.

When a nation as large as China needed salt for internal consumption and export, it could afford no half measures when building its coastal salterns. During the summer season, hundreds-of-thousands of shallow brine pools dotted Yancheng’s shores, fed by ten-thousand channels extending twenty kilometres inland.

During high tide, a torrent of concentrated sea water, dredged up by undersea currents, deposited millions of litres of brackish-brine, attracting innumerable Halophilic monsters desperate for the white-pink mounds. Once inland, the beasts were met by half a million labourers, their skin split and encrusted, their blood and sweat mingling into the crystalline mass.

From Yancheng’s ISTC station, Fudan’s 2004 IIUC team trekked its way from the splendour of the city into the mud-strewn countryside, the asphalt below them changing from tar, to gravel and finally to crushed stones long shattered into to jagged shards by haulier-trucks.

The city’s labourers, hard boiled by the relentless summer sun, raised their half-blinded eyes to regard the troop of fair-skinned Mages making way toward the coast, their mouths grinning with delight, revealing tea-stained teeth yellow with age.

Though their life wasn’t easy by any means, Yancheng was a generous city.

Thanks to the District General's abundant investments, their children attended school, with those who excelled receiving an opportunity to attend the civil exams in Shanghai or Beijing. For families whose lineage produced a Mage, they would receive an apartment in Yancheng's inner Districts, and their progeny was free to attend the state's Spellcraft academy.

Thus enchanted with friendly faces, the workers waved at the intrusion of pallid bodies so dissimilar to their own, dreaming of one day seeing their scions returning in similar triumph.

"Don't you think the people here are so much friendlier?" Gwen waved back. "You don't see happy peasants like this back in outer Shanghai."

"Life expectancy is about mid-forty here." Richard gave his cousin a gentle pat on the head. "It's an Orange Zone, the mana here mangles their bodies, but the salt is worth much more than the lives of NoMs."

"Oh..." Her hands suddenly felt like lead.

"But you know," Richard wisely observed. "Better here than D-109!"

'Klang!'

"Panzerschreck!"

"Kree! Kreeee-"

The flailing, armoured horse-shoe crab ruptured, spraying bright blue-ichor across the salt. Built like a tank and impervious to low-tier magic, it was the thing's own misfortune for choosing Lulan as its opponent.

"Well done!"
"Good work Lulu!"

The group appraised Lulan's demonstration.

As a part of their journey across the salterns, the members each displayed their spells on the occasional monster that barred their way.

Watching the briny-blue blood, Gwen raised a hypothesis.

“Do you think it’ll work?” She licked her parched lips, tasting the salt in the air. “Salt is Negative energy and Water, right?”

“I doubt it.” Richard shook his head. "I don’t think Caliban will gain Affinity that way. Even assuming these Monsters have traces of Negative Energy, your Affinity is too high and theirs too low.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” Gwen grinned.

“You could try.” Her cousin shrugged. “I’d imagine anything alive isn't going to be rich in naturally-occurring Negative Energy…”

Realising Dick was right, Gwen cursed her cousin’s astute observation.

“Gwen.” A Message spell blossomed beside her ear. “I see something.”

Above the group, choosing to be alone, Kitty had volunteered to be their spotter. When the girl thrice refused Gwen's invitation, Gwen deployed Maymyint to act on her behalf. Over dinner at Mayuree's apartment, Gwen had sat the three of them down to air old grievances. Meekly, the Mage from Kunlun had offered an apology, going so far as to drop to her knees before Gwen forcibly picked her up by the shoulder. According to Kitty, it was Gwen’s closeness to Mayuree, which she thought was undeserving, that was the root cause of their antagonism. As for Gwen’s part, she wholeheartedly forgave her IIUC companion.

“It’s a Salt Fish,” Kitty updated her observation. “Big one, too.”

“Alright, everyone-” Bai raised a hand. “Who wants to take this one?”

“Me! I would.” Gwen pointed to a comically salt-encrusted Caliban. “I think you guys should get used to seeing Caliban eat.”

Both Jiro and Rene moved up keenly, wondering what new nasty surprises Caliban had in store. They had already seen plenty through their practice duels, but her Void Worm had a knack for surprises.

“As a forewarning,” Gwen informed the others. “Keep a comfortable distance until you get used to it.”

“SHAAAA!” Caliban burped, returning to its Master briefly before once again turning invisible.

“Mao, that was something else.” Anita hugged the shivering Eunae. “What a horrible way to die.”

“I hear you.” Jiro closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “So that’s the spider-form?”

“Yes.” Gwen landed beside her team. “If we get a chance, I’ll show everyone Cali’s stag-form. It’ll take most of my vitality though, so fingers crossed we run into plenty of biomass.”

“How was the bug?” Richard enquired.

The ‘bug’, as it were, was a gigantic silver-fish encrusted with hardened salt from head to toe. Creatures such as these were usually passive, choosing to hide inside its armour while it demolished Yancheng’s salt stockpiles. Not bothering with penetrating its carapace, Gwen had Caliban's spider-form flip the thing over with its scything claws, then devoured it from the middle, where its exoskeleton was the softest.

“Could be better.” Gwen swallowed the tingling pleasure with a poker face. The bug registered a three on the Nephres' Scale. “The vitality barely made up what I had to spend.”

“They process salt for a living and stay virtually stationary,” Richard sniggered. “Not much vigour is needed to live the life of a salted fish.”

“Hahaha…”
“Pufft!”

The rest of the party burst into laughter at Richard’s wordplay.

‘Salted Fish,’ as it were, was slang for a no-good-lay-about.

“Kitty, how far to our destination?”

“Two hours across the salterns, or twenty minutes if we fly.”

“Well, ladies and gents?” Gwen turned to her party. “More sight-seeing? Or shall we get to our lodging?”

“Two more hours of salt flats?” Rene brushed a fine powder of salt from her jet-black hair. “No thanks.”

“Let’s get going then.” Bai lifted into the air.

Of the party, Richard, Jiro and Eunae were the only ones who did not possess the actual Flight spell. Richard himself could manage thanks to Lea, though his flight made for disastrous dog-fighting. Jiro and Eunae conversely managed through Magical Items. Of the many items banned in the competition, those granting basic 'Flight' were not among that number.

One by one, the group fell into a V formation.

“Eek!” Eunae shrieked as they passed an assemblage of several hundred bronze-skinned workers.

Gwen and the others halted in alarm, only to burst out in laughter.

Eunae was flying through the air with her legs clamped and her hands tightly pulling against the hem of her skirt. As a result, she was having trouble bracing her forward momentum.

“No one forewarned Eunnie?” Gwen turned to her peers suspiciously. She was wearing full-length spats, Lulan and Anita wore their military cargos, while Rene and Kitty wore jeans.

“I completely forgot.” Anita grinned, smacking her thin lips. “I mean, Eunae's charming enough to eat.”

“Muuuu!” Eunae growled, shaking a fist. The threat couldn't have been more adorable.

The others each expressed varying degrees of mirthfulness.

“I have a pair of pants you can use.” Their Captain handed over an impressive pair of men’s trousers.

“She can use it as a tube dress, Captain!” Jiro hollered at the ballooning cargo pants Tei offered the girl. Compared to Gwen, their Korean compatriot was indeed a pocket-sized pixie. “She’ll be blown away!”

“Bloody oath you guys.” Gwen snorted, exasperated by the good-natured teasing; happy that for once, she wasn't the ass on display. “If that's the case, Eunnie and I will go ahead.”

Gwen scoped up Eunae by the waist and her legs, then shot forward with a burst of speed, gesturing for the others to follow. “Trust me. They can't see anything at this speed!”

The Kirin sorceress tightened her grip.

"Wait!" Eunae panicked, but it was too late.

"To infinity and beyond!"

The team arrived at Lanyan Manor, exhausted from the constant acceleration.

Long distance flying not only relied on concentration and mana pool but exhausted one’s physical constitution. Velocity wise, at a reasonable pace, a flyer without Air affinity could manage twenty-odd kilometres per hour. Conversely, a full-paced hustle burning mana reserves could reach eighty-odd kilometres an hour.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Of the flight group, it was Kitty who reigned supreme, but none could come close to Gwen’s lightning-trailed, full-throttle afterburners.

Besides the team, Eunae sat to one side, wild-haired and wide-eyed, blowing bubbles through her lips.

“Does hair-preserving magic exist?” Gwen pulled at her wind-tunnelled hair, dismayed at its stubborn resistance. After a few discouraging attempts, she tied off a bushy ponytail.

“I am sure there are coiffure spells out there.” Anita’s gelled crop remained unsullied by their hasted travel. “Or magic items made for that purpose.”

“Or something like an aerodynamic barrier.” Gwen picked out a bug from her shirt. If she had been slower with her Shield, Eunae would have copped one in the grill. “I’d hate to imagine what would have happened if I had my mouth open; it's not every day I have Eunae with me.”

"Hahaha..."
Exhausted chortles addressed her ill humour.

The District they now arrived in was Dafeng, one of the original townships belonging to the Clan of Fung. An ancient town, the region remained rich with fauna, producing all kinds of exotic fare for Shanghai’s insatiable markets.

According to Senior Bai, there existed a legend long ago that beneath Dafeng was a Dragon Vein, re-classified in the 21st century as a ley-line.

As an Orange Zone Frontier, Dafeng was additionally famous for producing a unique fauna called the Mirage Deer, or ‘Milu’, a chimeric monster with ‘the tail of a donkey, the head of a horse, the hoofs of a cow, the antlers of a deer.' Most famously, the Milu held within their body a scent-gland which could substitute for ambergris.

Across Yancheng, the local population worshipped the Milu, long associated with the legend of the Dragon-vein. To many, an abundance of these benign and skittish creatures indicated the region was safe from disaster or invasion.

“Famously,” Senior Bai explained as the servants brought the Mages drinking water in silver vessels. “The Communists hunted the Milu for their musk-gland, said to possess a scent that induced heavenly hallucinations. As a result, the CCP almost lost Dafeng because of a local rebellion. It took the public execution of the local Secretary to pacify the District.”

“Not a Purge?” Gwen’s response was one of surprise.

“Dafeng’s production of salt had to be maintained.” Bai pointed to the distant salt fields. “And it was Patriarch Shen from the Nantong Fungs who delivered the verdict.”

Such is life, Gwen observed. This far out from the city, the CCP’s centralised command structure gave way to regional allegiances. Likewise, only by monopolising the natural resources of the Jiangsu Frontier could the Clan of Fung swallow a project as ambitious as Tonglv canal.

"We're ready for you, ma'am," the team's NoM housekeeper, a womanly matron, informed them with a bow. "Please forgive our tardiness."

"No worries, it's our fault for arriving ahead of schedule," Gwen apologised.

The estate Fudan rented was a property volunteered by the Fungs, a fully furnished, 12th-century abode sitting at the saddle of a low-rising hill. To its rear, a vast bamboo forest swayed, gently brushing its whitewashed walls of chalk. From the left side, the manor's frontage offered a view of the salt plains, while to the right, untouched marshland kissed the county of Shenyang, just visible on the horizon.

Each of the contestants had a room to themselves, though this far from the mana-grid and the waterworks, the ancient estate lacked modern amenities. Not keen on the compost bathrooms the NoMs had dug out at the property’s rear, Gwen offered her Portable Habitat to her team, setting up the portal on the central dais of the courtyard as to provide hot showers and flushing toilets.

“Woa, fancy!” Rene, who came from a military family, was suitably impressed. “How the hell did you get your hand on one of these? Portable Habitats are restricted military hardware.”

“She’s Secretary Song’s granddaughter,” Jiro reminded the Magma Mage. Already, the two fire-oriented casters had grown close. “What’s a few trips to the surplus storage under the CCP Tower?”

“Ha.” Gwen chose not to expose the origin of her pilfered Portable Habitat. “At any rate, here’s the glyph key. It’ll change every 24 hours, so Message me if you’re locked out.”

For the next three weeks, leaving from Lanyan Manor, the students ventured out in twos and threes, courting trouble.

In laymen’s terms, it meant the students formed small hunting parties to roam the countryside, visiting counties, speaking to the village heads, finding Monsters to murder and warrens to clear.

As summer brought the peak season for the production of sea salt, a deluge of Salt Fish, Ripper Claws, White Hoppers, Marsh Worms and the occasional Saltmire Merfolk threw themselves toward mountainous piles of gleaming pink crystals.

Day by day, pair by pair, rapport grew between her teammates.

Unsurprisingly, the others took an immediate liking to Richard, whose experience as an Adventurer brought respect and acknowledgement. Lulan likewise enjoyed working with Rene and Jiro, finding accord through their like-minded personalities. Curiously, ever since her beating, Kitty had taken up talking with Lulan as well, making Gwen wonder if Kitty too had a masochistic streak.

On the matter of tactics and teamwork, Senior Bai had asked Gwen to practice on the others her mastery of Dimension Door. Now unrestrained by regulations against Teleportation within the city limits, they enacted the torturous training known as ‘how many DDs can you travel with Gwen before seeing rainbows’. Thus far, Lulan held the record at twenty-two casts with ten-second intervals, while Eunae managed just five before she painted the pavement.

In between errands, Gwen engaged the group in ice-breaking exercises from her old world. Everything from Truth and Lie, where each member shared two ‘truths’ and a ‘lie’ about themselves, to Spellcraft Survival, where each team of three contestants had to scramble for a stack of spell-cards, then explain how they would survive a Black Zone using only these spells.

Additionally, she had been busy preparing a secret surprise of her own - the creation of a memorable experience with which to conceive an empathic resonance between her teammates, engendering sympathy and camaraderie.

Her rationale was simple - a robust sense of fellowship was necessary to offset the conflicts of interest that may soon be in play.

That was why, with the help of Magister Walken, his winged serpent, as well as Ariel VR, she tracked down a herd of Milu.

From above, the chimeric creatures indeed appeared as their moniker suggested - combining donkey, horse, cow and the massive antlers of a deer into a single animal. From the scale-patterned fur on the beast’s back, Gwen suspected that they were diluted Draconic-fauna. The problem was how she was going to drive a herd of these creatures back toward Lanyan Manor.

“Eeee!” Ariel offered a solution.

“You can?” She was surprised by the clarity of her Familiar’s empathic communiqué. Her creature was becoming more and more intelligent every day, evidence that Walken and Dean Luo’s training was paying off.

“EE!” Ariel assured her.

“Alright, here goes.”

She willed a volley of draconic-essence into her Familiar.

Above the Milu, Ariel materialised, shedding its invisibility. When the Milu readied their long limbs for a hasted escape, her Kirin let loose a burst of Dragon-fear.

As one, the Milu froze.

“EEE!” Ariel pawed through the air.

“Eeeer?” the leading stag bleated, expelling the contents of its bladder.

“EE! EE!”

“Eeeer?!”

“EE!”

“Eeeer!”

Half a kilometre away, Gwen wordlessly watched the spectacle through Ariel’s eyes.

Did deer speak? She asked herself. Could venison feel?

“Eee!”

Ariel informed her it was safe to approach.

“Dimension Door!”

Three teleports later, she was among the mystical Milu, smelling an awful mouldy dankness that only carpets fermenting for decades in a swamp could produce. How were the Milu were prized for perfume again?

“EE!” Ariel’s resplendent horns sparked.

One of the Milu turned away from Gwen, then without warning, sprayed her with something from its anal glands.

“Ari-!” Gwen burst into tears. She had not put up a shield because that would have been the last she'd see of the Milu. More importantly, her mouth was open. “Oh…”

In the next moment, a heavenly scent encompassed her sinus.

The fragrance was indescribable, as though a masterful perfume maker had distilled rosewood and sandalwood, bergamot and lavender, together with all the wildflowers on the marsh into a musky concoction.

“Oh my.” The fragrant was so heady as to make her momentarily dazed. “Milu No.5?”

Now that Gwen was marked and scented, the creatures visibly relaxed.

“Eee!”

“Right now?”

“EE!”

Heeding her creature’s command, Gwen channelled a mote of Almudj’s Essence into her forefinger.

The leading Milu approached, gingerly sniffed her glowing green mote on her palm, then lapped her hand clean.

“Eeeeer!” the buck leapt into the air, taking flight for a dozen meters, then landed with a wet thunk.

“That’s good, eh?” She was beginning to see Ariel’s plan. “Gather up, plenty for everyone! You wanna eat, you gotta work!”

A minute later, she was surrounded by a dozen Milu, furiously licking away, filling the swampland air with their scented blessings.

Who'd have thought? Gwen sighed - that one day she too would be a Disney Princess.

Up above, a discrete observational distance away, with the manner of an antagonist warlock stepfather, Eric Walken hovered with an active suite of diagnostic magic, an eye in the sky scrutinising his ward below.

At first, he thought Gwen had wanted to hunt illicit game to feed her friend, or perhaps bolster Caliban with a new form. What he had in turn witnessed was the strangest thing, a girl feeding monstrous creatures viridescent essence while they furiously muzzled, licked and nudged her to and fro.

"Essence!"

With a bell-beat of fluttering wings, his Coatl descended, seeing no reason why it should resist its impulsive desire for the emerald essence.

Weren’t the Milu supposed to be rare and noble, skittish and impossible to capture? Walken scoffed at the fawning venison below. Why was it that with Gwen, nothing could be normal?

On the last night of the training camp, the team's two leaders extracted the ingredients for a dumpling feast.

“I had it packed before we left,” Gwen boasted with self-satisfaction. “They’re from Yang’s, on Gouding Road. All we have to do is make it!"

Under a Milky Way unsoiled by light pollution from the city, sweltering beside boiling pots, the Fudan 2004 IIUC team folded dumplings and made chit-chatter, laughing at one another's failed attempts at wrapping dough.

Kitty, Anita, Eunae and Richard ate their pork-n-cabbage dumpling as is, while Gwen, Lulan and Anita preferred chilli and vinegar. On the far right, Rene and Jiro huffed over the crushed remains of ghost-pepper, audibly ventilating from the chilli oil.

“Tei, you’re going to die,” Gwen observed. Senior Tei wasn't good with chilli.

“Eunae,” Bai implored their Cleric seriously. “Drop me a Revitalise.”

"Revitalise!" Eunae acceded as Bai delivered another morsel to his lips.

“Ah-,” Bai lamented, closing his eyes. “That hits the spot; I am going to miss this taste in a few years.”

Nodding sympathetically, Gwen topped up the supply of rice wine, taking the opportunity to deliver a well-timed speech.

“Friends, teammates, comrades! Lend me your ears!” She raised a shimmering glass, its surface brimming with prohibitively expensive Mao-tai.

The rest of her team likewise raised their cups.

“Within a week, we shall venture from Shanghai into Burma, taking our first step toward the International Inter-University Competition! Therefore, I would like to offer a toast - to us, to Fudan, and to the future!”

“Ganbei!” A clatter of glasses echoed through the night.

“I believe I speak for many of us when I say that our prospects are daunting. From our familiar campus, we shall venture into the blue-dark of battlefields unknown. But - in our endeavour, let us know no fear; for we set sail beyond Shanghai's shores for fame, fortune and friends. As we step into each new continent, facing enemies hostile and competitors fierce, let us know no doubt; for each new challenge, difficult as they shall be - is an opportunity.”

"Hear-hear!"
"Well said!"

“Thank you," Gwen's voice reached a new crescendo. "For all of us, the IIUC is a detour on our Path of Spellcraft, we take this road, not for ease - but for potential. By stepping where no leaf had been trodden black, we shall employ the best of our energies so that when we emerge the victors, we shall have exercised our greatest potential!”

"Toast!"
"Drink!"
"Another!"

"As for our endeavour - I am reminded of Sir George Mallory, a Magister who perished mapping Everest. Once, a detractor demanded of Sir Mallory, ‘Why are you doing this?’ The Magister's response has since stuck with me. ‘Because it’s there,’ he had said, 'why try, if not for the tallest peak?'”

“Well.” Gwen raised another thimble. “For the spring of our youth, the IIUC is our peak, and together, hand in hand, arm in arm, we are going to reach for the top! TOAST!”
“For the IIUC!”
“For us!”
“Gānbēi!”

“Ariel!” Gwen sounded out internally. “Do it now!”

“EE!”

Without warning, a viridescent Ariel lit up the night.

“Oooh!”
“It’s Ariel!”
“What’s it doing up there?”

“Barbanginy!” Gwen allowed the channelled mana to flow through her Conjuration conduits, piling on the collated ethanol she'd drank all night.

An emerald halo erupted across the starry vista, forming a sudden Aurora Australis as Almudj’s blessing poured into the essence infused Elemental Sphere, adjusted for maximum displacement.

When eventually her breathless teammates looked down from the celestial spectacle, they were met with yet another miracle.

“Mao! Milu! Senior Bai! It’s the Milu!” Rene called out, spilling her drink.

“Ancestors!” Even Tei Bai felt his jaws unhinge.

From the hillside, a dozen Milu rode toward them, encircling the young Mages who stood to receive them.

“What an omen!” Anita touched a hand to her lips. “I can’t believe it!”

“A blessing!” Jiro looked up at Ariel, then at Gwen. “From the goddess of victory herself.”

Bathed in the emerald light from above, Richard reached Gwen’s side.

“Thank you.” He embraced her in an uncharacteristic act of piety. “I never thought we’d come so far, so quickly.”

“Dick.” Their fingers touched. “I want to thank you as well. Without your support, I may not have gotten here at all.”

Lulan was next, though the girl was more direct, opting straight away for hugging Gwen tightly and digging her face into Gwen’s bosom.

“Kitty?” Gwen opened her arms, indicating to the wide-eyed straggler. “Mia’s not here, and I’ve got a vacancy.”

The Ice Mage’s lowered her head, the smile that had just touched her face suddenly fading from her lips. Rigidly, the petite sorceress turned away.

“Kitty, don't play the coy maiden. You know you want it!” Rene, mistaking Kitty’s body language for bashfulness, took the girl by the arm and pulled her unwillingly closer.

“Me too!” Jiro, incited by the friendly atmosphere, pushed Rene and Kitty into Gwen’s arms. "Anita, come on!"

"Ah, whatever." The stoic Senior Bai let himself go, bringing Eunae, who was desperately trying to reign Luyi away from the Milu.

Soon, trapping an asphyxiating Kitty inside a human sardine ball, the team huddled for the first time.

At Ariel’s command, the group of Milu approached.

“Shut your eyes!” Gwen called out, though her warning was drowned out by the crush of bodies. “Close your mouths!”

One by one, the deer turned their fluffy tails toward the group, then gave the soon to be traumatised humans the benedictions for which the Mirage Deer were famous.


“This whole ordeal sounds dodgy,” Gwen said drily, forewarned by Mayuree to be wary of prophecies.

“Yet, stranger things have happened to the both of us,” Jun observed his niece, likewise unsure of what to make of his draconic partner’s ambiguous foreshadowing.

“I suppose. Let’s recap.” Gwen had been taking notes on a slate. “The Tyrant may or may not be Ayxin’s minimum five-hundred-year-old brother, a pure-blooded Thunder Dragon with a raging libido. Likewise, Ruxin was last known to have travelled to Mandalay, the old Burmese royal capital, with the express purpose of banditry, nest-construction and dragon-on-dragon insemination.”

“That's…” Jun smacked his lips, raising both brows. “Surprisingly concise.”

“Also, according to Ayxin, I may be saved by Golos.”

“Not her exact words.” Jun furrowed his brows. “Her exact words were, ‘Golos shall act to prevent Gwen from assured self-destruction, as well as intervene should her life be in imminent threat of annihilation.’”

“Annihilation!” Gwen marvelled at the choice of the Draconian’s diction. “What am I? A flatworm? So if I am only half dead, or enslaved, or trapped in a cave or mildly dismembered, Golos is going to leave me alone?”

“You could interpret it like that.” Jun broke out in cold sweat. “I feel a lot less confident now that you’ve clarified the Yinglong’s condition.”

“You know what I think?” Gwen held her uncle's hand, feeling the clammy skin of his palm. “I think the Yinglong is tempting me to act rashly, thinking that Golos will be there as a fail-safe - when in reality, I could be in all sorts of trouble without Golos needing to step in. For example, Golos can’t come into Shanghai, but I could go right now into the lobby, fire off a dozen Void spells and get booked into Tianlanqiao’s stasis bay. When you think of it like that, this 'save your ass thrice' business is pretty suspect.”

“Please don’t say that.” Jun eyed the security partition nervously. “The walls have eyes.”

“Just a hypothesis.” Gwen grinned. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I know how to take care of myself. I’ve got a whole team with me, and Magister Walken, whose interest and mine coincide, at least for now.”

“Nonetheless, a scorpion is a scorpion,” Jun sagely acknowledged. “Betrayal is in his nature.”

“Oh, but Eric's my arachnid until we dismiss our common goal,” Gwen assured her uncle. “But of course, I’ll be sure to watch my back. Or at least Richard will.”

“His roots go deep, within the Grey Faction I mean, and with the Mageocracy…”

“I’ll be careful, Uncle. Don’t forget, Gunther remains a hard counterspell for a disgraced Magister like Walken.”

“I am just worried about you.”

“I know.”

“… Qīn’s expecting in three weeks,” Jun changed the subject. “I think Hai would be happy if you were to send him a Message, you know - a sign.”

She bit her lip, though it was hard to work up a fury when her uncle Jun had just given her a stout shot of paternal care and security. Despite everyone in her family coming out to see her off, her parents remained absent.

“Alright.” She nodded. As much as she wanted to worry about Walken’s ulterior motives, Ayxin’s vague revelations and her father’s new child, what she should be focusing on was getting to Yangon in one piece, survive the meeting with her Asian regional competitors, then work her way to London to compete for fame, fortune and Evee. “I shall - should I do it now?”

“At your leisure.” Jun coughed guiltily. “But play nice.”

“I am always nice,” she replied sourly. "When am I not nice?"

“Don't sound like such a step-mother,” Jun remarked with a pearl of wry wisdom. “You’re too young for that.”

“Am I not an old soul?”

“Well-” Jun was reminded of the secret they shared. “I suppose there’s that.”

“It’s fine. I'll give Hai my benediction.”

Jun patted her hand in return.

“I should go. The others are waiting for you.”

He opened his arms, and the two shared a hug, with Gwen tagging him with a peck on the cheek.

“Good luck with your egg making, Uncle. You have my benediction.”

Jun gave her an exasperated glance.

“And watch your health - they say too much Dragon isn’t good for your kidneys. Let it come naturally.”

“Get going, you rascal.” Jun gave her a phantom kick in the buttocks.

Leaving her flustered uncle with a wink, she returned to the lobby of the ISTC.

“Gwen! You’re back!” Dean Luo and the others gathered outside were already knee-deep in the media pit.

“Here.” Gwen materialised the signatures Jiro and Rene had requested, as well as additions so that no one else was left out. “Personalised and fresh from the Ash Bringer himself, as requested.”

“I’ll treasure it!” Jiro beamed. “I am thankful!”

“Thanks.” Rene reverently swept her eyes over the scrawled pictogram. “I am going to send this back to my Patriarch!”

The power of the CCP’s propaganda machine was nothing to scoff at, Gwen noted internally. Not even Gunther, a Mage capable of shit-canning a Leviathan the size of a suburb, was instantly recognisable in the middle of a street. Comparatively, when Jun intercepted the team at the ISTC lobby earlier, Rene and Jiro’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

“Alright, everyone here? Let’s get a good angle in.” The Dean motioned for the CCVC-1 crew to begin. Sensing an opportunity, Luo had brought with him a Vid-Cast crew from the state’s propaganda office.

The group of young Mages, each arriving at the ISTC separately, had bought their families with them. For Gwen, this included her grandparents, her brother, as well as Mina and Tao. Except for Lulan, who had only Kusu, Eunae, who had no family in Shanghai and Kitty who came alone, the rest were inundated with well-wishes from loved ones.

First came the Dean’s grandiose introduction, after which a suitably large assemblage of rubbernecking spectators added to the already crowded lobby.

“We have full confidence in you lot breaking through the Asian round,” Dean Luo informed the youngsters, winking at the Lumen-recorders. “So say something for the future broadcast!”

As Captain, it was Tei's duty to begin.

“Comrades, greetings. I am Tei Bai, the Captain of the 2004 Fudan IIUC team. I want to make our country, our university and our people proud by showing the world that our nation is ready to join world leaders in the development of Spellcraft. Father, mother, Patriarch Wuyue, please accept my most sincere gratitude for making me who I am today."

Tei dropped to his knees and kowtowed toward a grim-faced man wearing a matching outfit in grey and black, standing amidst a small contingent of Clanners from Taishan, eliciting a round of appreciation from the crowd.

Next was Gwen, who presented an entirely different image to the sombre, funeral-director mien of Tei Bai with her sleeveless dress and tender complexion. With a mote of Essence flashing her irises emerald, she gave the lumen-recorder a bright and vivid smile before delivering her carefully worded portion.

“Hi everyone, I am Gwen Song, Vice-Captain of the team. I would like to thank the city of Shanghai, the knowledge bestowed upon me by Fudan, and the generosity of the Dean in offering us this rare and wonderful opportunity. Over there are two people to whom I am deeply indebted, without whom none of this would have happened. Nainai and Yeye, please accept my most sincere gratitude!”

The crew instantly panned toward the delighted expressions of Gwen’s grandparents as well as the parents of the other students who had come to the ISTC station to fare their scions well. With a twist of her dancer's figure, Gwen skipped between two lumen-recorders to embrace both of her grandparents.

The crowd’s applause exploded. What could be more heartwarming, more picturesque than a scene of filial piety such as this? As for the girl’s parents, who knew? It wasn’t uncommon in this day and age to have a young protégé whose parents had given their all to the state.

“Take care, Gwen.” Her babulya kissed her on the cheeks. “Did Jun say his piece?”

“Yes, Babulya, I’ve got everything I need.”

“Gwen, do not fail-” Guo remained as stoic as ever, his seriousness exacerbated by the presence of the propaganda crew. "-and be careful."

“I will, Grandfather.” Gwen bowed. “Percy!”

Percy tried to hide behind their grandfather but was dragged out by his sister to face the glaring crystalline eyes of the lumen-recorders.

“This is my brother, Percy, future IIUC contestant.” Gwen hugged her sibling from behind. “He will be greater than even myself in the future; I just know it!”

Percy blushed from the immodest and outlandish boast, drawing laughter from around the room.

“Sorry for missing your matches, bud.” Gwen hugged her brother close, pressing their faces together as the CCVC crew moved on to their next target. “As compensation, I’ll bring back something nice.”

She remained with her family while the rest of the crew followed her suit, choosing to stand with their relatives to maintain the motif of filial piety.

When the crew got to Lulan, she instead retrieved Gwen, making her doubly flustered as the Sword Mage heaped praise on her saviour, aided by a grateful Kusu, choking like a misty-eyed father sending their child off to the first day of school.

Richard was no better, again redirecting back toward Gwen. Thankfully, her cousin spent at least a small part of his interview leaving an on-air message for his parents, informing them that he had a home ready for them and that by the end of the IIUC, he may have enough CCs to bring them to Shanghai.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

When finally the interviewer reached the reluctant duo of Eunae and Kitty, both stammered a few lines about being thankful to Fudan, then clammed up, uncomfortable with such an extroverted display of egotistical self-promotion. For Eunae, Gwen suspected the girl’s participation would likely be negatively received, at least until they thrashed the Korean teams, making Eunae the sole object of worship for the nationalistic peninsular’s prideful citizens. As for Kitty, she could only presume that the ordinarily quiet girl loathed the idea of whoring herself out.

“Mayuree, Miss Maymyint, I am bringing Gwen Song! I am coming for you!”

The Ice Mage’s stalwart finish came as a pleasant surprise, and Gwen couldn’t help but give Kitty a righteous thumbs-up.

When finally the CCVC crew came full circle, the team formed behind the Dean and presented the universal symbol for cringeworthiness - extending their arms and forming a V with their fingers - before finish up at the entrance to the ISTC’s inner chamber.

“GOOD LUCK!”
“FAREWELL!”
“SAFE RETURNS!”

The family and friends of the contestants waved one last time; then with a synchronised bow, the Fudan 2004 IIUC team was away.

Unlike the ISTC station at Singapore, Gwen’s first port of entry into Shanghai, China's Inter-City Teleportation Circles shared identitcal algorithms, likewise manufactured with matching metrics to reduce wavelength fluctuation.

Without so much as a single Eunae kneeling over to paint rainbows all over the silvery glyphs, the team arrived at Chengdu, where they would meet up with the other Chinese Team picked for Myăma.

“I’ve just received the news.” Walken joined the group as they gathered in Chengdu ISTC's lobby. “Your remaining competitors are Kyoto University and Seoul University.”

“We’re not against Tokyo?” Tei took in a breath of cold air. “Mao’s tomb— Kyoto, we’re in for a tough bout.”

The rest of the team exchanged uncertain glances.

Within China's nine leading research institutes, only three Chinese universities ranked high enough in the Asian Regional academic rankings to issue teams for the IIUC. Of the Group of Twenty in Greater Asia, Fudan barely scraped past the finishing line at 19th, Jiantong at 13th, while Tsinghua solidly locked in 2nd or 3rd place, interchanging with their rivals from Tokyo. Peking University, though ranked 4th, had little interest in competition with the old colonial powers, emphasising instead on gatekeeping the PLA's most secretive mystical arts.

“I’d say so.” Walken studied each of the team members, disdained by their dismay. “Here are your current matchups: Of your Asia qualifier group: Kyoto is ranked 1st, Seoul 9th, Jiantong 13th, and Fudan is 19th. It’s not an unusual spread, as the organisers prefer to avoid having top group match ups. When we’re on the global stage, the same dynamic will apply. For your first round, Fudan, a rank 154th university, will pair with competitors in the top hundreds, or whatever is closest, assuming any of them has made it that far.”

“Well, its no surprise we’re the underdog!” Richard butted in. “That’s how I like it! That’s how we do it in Australia!”

“That’s right.” Gwen pumped her fists. “In Australia, the underdog never loses! Fact! Nine times out of ten, a million in one shot taken by an underdog will succeed!”

Her teammates giggled nervously, evidently doubting their Vice-Captain's mathematical abilities.

“Ho! FUDAN!”

Before she could continue, a thunderclap resounded across the vaulted ceiling of the ISTC station. A second team had arrived, and they were now making their way across the interior, awaiting transfer to the international terminal of the Chengdu ISTC array.

It was their old rival, Jiantong.

Senior Bai glanced at Gwen, cautioning his lieutenant before the two moved up to greet their counterparts.

Unlike the Fudan students, Jiantong has been long affiliated with the Communist Party’s Shanghai branch, with their best and brightest graduating into secretarial posts as well as military officerships inside the PLA Tower.

As one, Jiantong marched on Fudan's chaotic formation, neat in their dark navy uniforms, paired with pale blue collars and black military chinos. Unsurprisingly, the most eye-catching aspect of their team jersey was a bright red iconography depicting a hammer, anvil and sword, alongside spell-books, forming the circular logo for Jiantong, symbolising craft, knowledge and military might, each in equal measure.

Conversely, Fudan wasn’t nearly so strict on uniforms, which combined with its intake of international students, was why it was famous for its “Fudan Flowers”.

The Captain of Jiantong, Gwen noted, was a bloke with a military crop, a square jaw, and dark, hawkish eyes that gave him an intimidating disposition, like a man waiting for the perfect moment to deploy a shiv.

Behind the militant looking young man was another with the face of a schemer, scrunched and rat-like, a born villain. Just from the motes of pale mana drifting from the man’s garb, Gwen could tell he was an Illusionist and a high-tier one at that. Though not wanting to judge a book by its cover, the man's appearance had nonetheless forced her to do a double-take. Thanks to planned pairings and generations of good breeding, Mages in general, especially ones with rare abilities, were rarely uncomely. Considering the position of Gwen's team and the rest of the Jiantong team, the Illusionist's unfortunate face struck her as peculiar.

As the groups approached one another, her theory was validated by two exceedingly beautiful young women, both with their long hair tied up in knots, glaring past her at Lulan.

“Tei Bai, Captain.” Tei extended a hand.

“Gwen Song, Vice-Captain,” Gwen likewise made herself known, a little pleased that she was as tall or taller than the entirety of the Jiantong team.

“Ah, the great Tei Bai, the prodigy of the Taishan Bai Clan,” the presumed Captain of the Jiantong team had introduced himself as Xiang Ying of Wutang. “We finally meet.”

“Bai shixiong.” The Illusionist beside Ying bowed, interjecting before Bai could address the Jiantong Captain. “Pleased to meet you. I am Kurong Tsung from the Wutang main house.”

After her Captain's turn with the duo, when Gwen moved to shake the Captain’s hand, Ying instead gave her a smile and a nod, then left her hanging.

Tei was mid-bow when he caught Gwen’s awkward condition.

“Is something the matter, Bai shixiong?”

“Ying shidi, please return my Vice-Captain’s greetings,” Tei returned gruffly.

“If shixiong wishes it, it shall be done.” The Wutang Sword Mage known as Ying then turned to Gwen, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet the infamous Worm Handler.”

Shocked at having been called the titillating moniker to her face, Gwen’s cheeks flushed scarlet before Ying' calloused fingers enveloped her own. Like all Sword Mages, the caster's hand possessed the stinging grit of sandpaper.

Then, for some reason, the man squeezed her hand.

It took Gwen a moment to realise the man wasn’t trying to cop a feel but was squeezing her fingers in the crushing sense.

Bemused and in mild discomfort, Gwen winced.

Ying Xiang grinned.

Senior Bai’s expression grew dark, while the Illusionist’s grew mirthful.

The rest of the team on either side watched their leaders dance the braggadocio fandango, anticipating what was next to come.

Growing annoyed, Gwen attempted to retrieve her hand, only to find that Ying’s fingers had become a vice-grip.

“Ying shidi, you are going too far.” Tei raised a not-very-polite finger, hoping Gwen wouldn't just keep Ying's hand as a souvenir. “Don’t do it, Ying. It won’t end well.”

“Oh?” Ying Xiang’s gaze stabbed at Tei. “You know, I've heard some very scandalous things about your flower. Does it break your heart to see her hurt, Bai shixiong?”

“That’s not what Senior Bai means.” Richard, who had been observing the ordeal, snorted out loudly. “You bloody inbred Clanners, you have no idea, do you? Go on; keep it up.”

A clamour resounded from the Jiantong camp.

“Well done, you’ve just insulted my whole party. What’s your name?”

“Richard Huang.” Richard rested a hand against the small of Gwen's back so that an understanding passed between them. “Say, are you any good wielding a sword left-handed?”

“Mr Xiang,” Gwen interjected, playing along, growing misty-eyed, waiting for the man to lower his guard. “You’re hurting me.”

Suddenly, without warning, a split-second before Gwen was about to crush the man's fingers, the Sword Mage relented.

“You'd be better off charming the Fungs.” Ying Xiang met her eye to eye. “A competition such as this is no place for a soft and delicate thing such as yourself. Is living the life of a princess in Nantong not thrilling enough for you?”

As if confirming his Captain’s point, the rat-faced Illusionist also extended a hand for Gwen to shake.

Lulan, growing furious at Jiantong’s rudeness, took a step forward, only to be halted by Richard when on the other side, two young women likewise looked as though they were keen to step forward.

Gingerly, with great timidness, Gwen tended her slender white fingers and took the Illusionist’s rougher counterpart.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Worm Handler.” The Clanner known as Kurong grasped her hand as though manhandling a hock.

“Oh no, Mr Tsung.” Gwen activated her Essence, locking eyes with the Jiantong Captain. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“AEEEEEEAA! A-ANCESTORS!” Kurong broke out into a sudden clamour, so much that the two young women behind him looked about ready to materialised their swords. “Y-YOU WHORE!”

Ying Xiang's expression hardly changed.

“You'd be better off slinking back down the sewer you birthed out of,” Gwen stated coldly, ratcheting up the pressure so that Jiantong's Vice-Captain fell to his knees, one hand caught in her vice-grip while the other futilely tried to form an Abjuration Shield. “A true competition such as this is no place for a soft and delicate stool such as yourself.”

“Haha!”
“Oh Gwen, that’s brilliant!”
Her teammates jeered.

“Hahahaha…” To Gwen's dismay, Ying Xiang began to laugh as well, paying no heed to his screeching Vice-Captain. “I like you, Miss Song. I see your moniker is no joke. You have handled Tsung shidi expertly.”

Stepping back, the man bowed from the waist.

“Allow me to apologise. May I please have Tsung shidi back?”

With a show of generosity, Gwen returned the Illusionist to his team.

“I am going to destroy you.” Kurong didn’t find the joke nearly as hilarious as his Captain.

"I am terrified," Gwen hummed jovially. "No one has ever said that to me before. Look at my trembling hands."

She sneered at the man’s writhing, snot-covered face, wondering if it was the inbreeding talking or if the man was indeed that arrogant.

“Tsung shidi! Apologise!” Ying Xiang’s faux amicability curdled. “Do you not understand the meaning of a friendly greeting? Did Song shimei not humiliate your shameful display? How much face must you lose before you’re satisfied?”

Kurong opened his mouth to speak, but a proverbial cat in the form of Gwen’s upturned lips had caught his tongue.

“Bai shixiong.” Ying made a gesture with an open palm and a fist, then commanded his team to back away. “Let us continue this in Burma.”

“Indeed, I look forward to it.” Bai returned a bow, then directed Gwen and his party away from the Jiantong team, who retrieved their pallid Vice-Captain.

“What the hell was all that about?” Gwen inquired of Bai. “Was that guy slow in the head?”

“He must be,” Richard chuckled. “Good work, Gwen.”

“I am afraid the both of you have been used.” Tei sighed. “Still, it was a good show of force. No matter.”

“How so?” Gwen raised a brow. She had thought her comeback worthy of an Emmy.

“Ying Xiang was initially trying to bait you,” Bai explained. “If you couldn’t withstand his taunt and carelessly activated your magic, you may be in trouble with the authorities here before we even commence the match.”

“But I am not stupid enough to do that,” Gwen pointed out.

“He knows that now.” Bai nodded. “It's a test of your mettle. What followed was his real ploy. I should have stopped you, but I too was curious as to Ying’s intent.”

“Which was?” Richard and others were now gathered around their Captain, the only true Clanner among them.

“Intra-Clan Politics.” Bai lowered his voice. “All Clans have problems with succession, more so for a big sect like Wutang. Ying Xiang is a genius, a genuine prodigy, but Kurong Tsung is the favourite grandson of the current Patriarch. Just now, I suppose we just watched Ying Xiang wield the two of you against his cousin.”

“Seriously?” Gwen shook out her hand, feeling dirty. "They don't give a shit about teamwork and morale?"

“They do, but Ying is likely trying to cut off the gangrene first. They say in Wutang that the way of the sword is the way of ren - of people,” Senior Bai intoned. “To wield the sword is to wield the heart of lesser men, the blade: their want, the handle: their fear. A strike should not be so easily anticipated, yet the blade will cut precisely when needed.”

“How mystical.” Richard appeared unconvinced. “But no more substantial than what Prince’s used to spew about the distinction that awaited when serving the Four Houses.”

“Xiang shidi will prove a difficult challenge,” Bai warned his teammates. “I know you all have little sympathy for Clanners and our magic, but do not underestimate him. His is a talent that comes once in a generation.”

“Yes, Captain.”
“Alright, Senior Bai.”
"We need your advice."

The team murmured their agreements.

“Good, let’s get to our hotel.”

Once the other’s followed Bai from the lobby, Gwen found herself waiting for their instructor, who had been watching the whole while without so much as a peep.

“Gwen.” Walken sidled beside her. “A word.”

“Eric?” Gwen fell in step beside her frenemy advisor.

“Your team needs a confidence boost.” Walken touched his forehead. “I can vouch for the fact that very few contestants will be capable of handling your unmitigated potential, almost none in Asia, so my first advice to you is to bolster your team's confidence. I don't think your Captain truly understands just how much terror you're capable of sowing. More poignantly, I don't think your opponents have a clear idea either.”

“How am I to do that?” Gwen chuckled. “Caliban ambush?”

“Oh, nothing so nefarious.” Walken eyed the Jiantong team as they sauntered away to their hotel. “I think its best to start removing obstacles and laying dominos.”

“You’re saying…” Gwen’s expression grew scandalised.

“Exactly saying that.” Walken’s lips grew cruel and calculating. “When we get to Yangon, there’s going to be a reception. The organisers are going to be there, and traditionally, the end of the dinner reception heralds duels between the various team’s Captains and Vice-Captains - all captured for broadcast entertainment, of course. When that happens…”

“If that happens-” Gwen studied the man’s gleaming eyes.

“Pick someone, anyone, and crush them. To strategise our matches to come, you need to put the fear of Gwen into them. Don’t hold back, and don’t pause for breath until your team has regained its confidence and your opponents' have turned into Christmas pudding.”