“Of course, Patriarch. I’d love to attend.” Gwen tore herself from her note laden table. Her workspace was starting to resemble Petra's in more ways than one.

Herself, Dai and Ken had been invited to attend the Tonglv Canal's first major milestone.

Just the thought of it quickened her blood.

A single transmuted wall, a hundred meters deep and a quarter-kilometre wide, stood between the waterway and the South China Sea.

After the ribbon-cutting, a steady stream of water would gush into the channel, connecting it to the Yangtze River, after which a torrent of HDMs would swell with the tide, overflowing Nantong's coffers.

Grains, vegetables, stone, steel, lumber, and livestock from the Su-Hang tableland would enjoy an unimpeded passage to the South China Sea, bypassing the inundated Port of Shanghai, finally relieving Shanghai's inundated waterways.

She quickly fired Richard and the others a Message, only to recall that they were already on the way to Nantong. As principle contributors to the eradication of Demi-human infestations in the region, Richard’s party had a place of honour among the adventurers and mercenaries, away from the big-wigs. Instead, her replacement companions would be Ruì, Effi and Terence, all of whom had been invited by Dai.

Thus attired in the porcelain blue attire her grandmother had gifted her, she stepped into the limousine with Dai and the others, cautioning her NoM companions about the displacement sickness that came with long-distance Teleportation.

“Senior Bai, Gwen's on the Vid-cast!”

Bai halted his sparring match when one of the Fudan DC members came running into the gymnasium, waving his arms like a madman.

“Our Flower of Fudan is on CCVC-1!” he hollered. "Someone change the Divi-stream!"

CCVC-1 was the official channel for state broadcasts. It ran a 24-hour news service, looping the latest incursions, attacks, victories and conquests made by the CCP.

“I am turning it up!” Someone else fired off a glyph at the overhanging Vid-caster.

In the next moment, all eyes gathered on the projection, searching for the familiar silhouette of their leggy mascot.

(Music Plays)

(The CCVC-1 LOGO zooms out to reveal a reporter standing atop the canal, below which hundreds of thousands of officials and local elites thronged shoulder to shoulder.)

**Zhuli Wei**
… therefore, the Tonglv Committee has chosen today, the 22nd of April, as the auspicious day to ‘break earth’ and inaugurate the canal. Though initially a troubled project attracting criticism from the Central Bureau for its wastefulness, recent administrative changes have brought new life to the Tonglv Project, now designated one of the most successful government infrastructural projects in a decade, receiving not just attention from the District’s Office, but from Central as well - Lu Joan reports.

(The picture cuts to another reporter wearing a formal cocktail dress.)

**Joan Lu**
Thank you, Zhuli, as you can see behind me, the Big Three responsible for the completion of the Canal’s main transit artery are now making their way onto the stage for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Leading them is Secretary Shen Fung of the Nantong Fung Clan, a loyal and local member of the Party who has laboured since two decades ago to integrate the Nantong Frontier into Greater Shanghai Metropolitan Region.

(The reporter approaches Shen Fung)

Good afternoon, Secretary Fung, how do you feel about your achievement?

**Shen Fung**
To say that I feel proud would be an understatement. This project is my child. To ensure its success, I have scoured every resource from Nantong. I want to say I deserve the credit, but that is not true. The real honour goes to the people and the Party! Personally, I would like to thank our decision makers from Central for supporting my vision and the dreams of Nantong's workers. Likewise, I am grateful to our craftsmen, both NoMs and Mages, who have laboured day and night for the better part of six years to ensure that today, our earth-breaking ceremony is not a dream, but a reality. The prosperity of Tonglv is the prosperity of the people!

**Joan Lu**
Well said, Secretary Fung.

(Shen Fung leaves to join a group of local power brokers - but not before he directs Joan's attention to a group of young people, at the head of which is his son, Dai Fung.)

Next, we have a leader who is familiar to many of us - the recently promoted Chairman Tu Guangshao of the Shanghai Economic Exchange. Chairman Tu of the Greater Regional Economics Committee has been instrumental in reforming the financial operations of the Tonglv project.

Chairman, how do you feel about this day?”

**Guangshao Tu**
Joan, good to see you again.

(Tu bows toward the audience)

To our viewers at home, Tonglv is a sea-change, not only for Nantong but for China itself. Though I cannot reveal too much, this project and its administrative practices will go down in history as the beginning of China’s economic rebirth. Soon, we will return to being the 'middle-nation' of the human world. In the decades to come, all of us, and all of you, whether in the Districts, in Xian, Beijing or Shanghai or the Frontiers, will feel the positive impact of our nation's economic growth. I am truly happy to have served Mao's teachings and the People's Republic!

**Joan Lu**
Thank you for your service. Chairman Tu.

**Guangshao Tu**
Chen Quin! Stop dawdling! Get over here!

**Joan Lu**
Next, we have Magister Chen Quin, formerly of Jianqiao University. Within the triumvirate, Magister Chen represents the Overseer Committee. Thanks to his efforts, corruption and nepotism have had nowhere to hide. Magister, what do you foresee for the future of Tonglv Canal?

**Quin Chen**
A good question. Tonglv will, in the next five years, overtake Shanghai's Port Authority in the volume of goods exported from the Su-Hang region. Like comrade Tu ha stated, our international port shall be the most progressive ventures the Party has ever embarked. For the people of Nantong, this region will become a new industrial centre for processing, packing and shipping. Naturally, this means that we - the Overseer Committee from Central, will be keeping a close eye on matters!

**Joan Lu**
Excellent, Magister Chen. Can you introduce us to some of your proteges?

(The Lumen-Recorder dutifully pans toward the group of young men and women the Big Three had been conversing with.)

**Quin Chen**
Of course, young people are the future of our nation. James! Bring Dai, Ken and Gwen over.

(One of the men, an older gentleman, hesitates. Though placed on the spot, he follows through with Chen’s demands.)

**Joan Lu**
You’re Professor James Ma from Fudan University!

**James Ma**
I am pleased and honoured to be here.

**Joan Lu**
Has the famous rivalry between Fudan and Jianqiao ceased? Are you and Magister Chen working together? What are your thoughts on the Canal?

**James Ma**
… No, and yes. I am afraid the Canal's importance supersedes any academic rivalry. This project is a boon for both Mages and NoMs. The number of jobs it will bring will completely transform this region; it would not be unrealistic to say that millions of people, our non-magical workers especially, will now be employed in one capacity or another-

(Ma continues to speak about the boons of the Canal for the local NoM population. Joan can barely get a word in.)

**Quin Chen**
Perhaps it's best to hear it straight from the source. Young Dai, the son of Secretary Fung, has been instrumental in Tonglv’s progress. He has brought in innumerable investors with that silvery tongue of his.

(The Lumen-recorder quickly moves toward the group of young people. A few of them look entirely at ease, while a few others appear mortified. The shot pauses on Dai, then subtly zoomed out as to capture a breathtakingly beautiful young woman beside the Fung heir.)

**Joan Lu**
Mister Fung, can you tell us more about your involvement in all of this.

(Dai glances at the girl beside him, then begins to speak. Curiously, the beauty remains stoic.)

**Dai Fung**
Chairman Tu and Magister Chen are too kind. To say that I am instrumental in any of this would be a joke. If anything, we should thank the people, the Secretaries who have worked tirelessly to make this possible, not to mention the Party itself. Just being here fills me with a feeling of ardour and worship for the New China my generation will inherit. As for the details of the operation, Miss Song here is the one you should be interviewing.

(Finally receiving a cue, the Mage operating the Lumen-Recorder zooms into the girl’s face. The girl’s eyes widen slightly, then she swallows. Her lips part, but no words emerge. Though the shot is flawlessly aesthetic, she appears speechless.)

**Joan Lu**
Miss Song?

**Dai Fung**
Gwen Song.

**Joan Lu**
Miss Gwen Song, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Joan Lu, Central-Chinese Vid-Cast One.

**Gwen Song**
…

**Dai Fung**
Please don't mind her, Gwen is feeling shy because of the Lumen-recorders. Mark my words though, you will be seeing and hearing plenty more of her from now on. This young lady is a staple member of Fudan’s IIUC team. This year, they’re going international!

(The Lumen-recorder performs a one over of the girl, scanning her from her wind-tossed hair to her gleaming Mary-Janes.)

**Dai Fung**
Earlier, my father and the others have been discussing how we should be cutting the ribbon, though I think we have just the omen. Gwen, can we borrow your Kirin?

**Joan Lu**
A Kirin!

**Dai Fung**
Indeed! Gwen is famous around Fudan and has caused quite a stir when she returned from Huangshan with a blessing that surprised us all. Her Uncle, you should know, is the Hero of the Northern Front, the Ash Bringer!

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

**Joan Lu**
A Kirin AND the niece of a national hero! Miss Song, we shall be keeping a close eye on your progress from now on!

(The girl flashes a gentle smile before turning to her companion.)

**Gwen Song**
I am doing what now?

**Dai Fung**
You said it was fine.

**Gwen Song**
I never sai- You never said I was going to be on T- on Vid-cast!

(The Lumen-Recorder quickly pans away, returning to the stage where the ceremony is about to begin.)

“There’s Ariel!”

“Oooh! Lord Kirin!”

On the gigantic Vid-Caster, Bai and the members of Fudan’s Duelling Club giddily watched as Ariel, resplendent and fully fluffed, shot a streak of cobalt-lightning toward a giant ribbon tying together the final floodgates of Tonglv Canal’s seawall.

Slowly, still held aloft by currents of air, the two-storey ribbons fell apart to the sound of thunderous applause filling the valley.

Below the noble visage of Gwen's Kirin, an enormous, strategic-class Transmutation glyph blazed, ejecting two rods of ferro-concrete each the size of a small skyscraper, returning their mass back into the Elemental Plane of Earth.

There was a sound of rumbling, then a sudden ratcheting of pressure and moisture. A taste of salt filled the air as all sound save the thundering chunder of the ocean was drowned out.

Twin plumes of white water shot into the newly completed Tonglv Canal, a million-million litres of blue-green sea rushed into the basin, painting the grey-concrete black. Vapour from the crashing waterfall filled the atmosphere, kept away from the VIP personnel standing upon the ceremonial platform, drenching the observing crowd further away.

A roaring cheer echoed across the churning valley.

For those soaked to the bone, the wetness was a benediction. The people of Nantong had awaited this baptism for far too long. To them, the wet wasn’t just so much brine; what Tonglv signified was the floodgates of progress; its spillage the water of life.

After about a minute of silent awe, one of the Fudan DC members turned to the others.

“How about our princess, huh?”

“I love the way she stared into the Vid-Caster not knowing what to do.”

“Haha, our Worm-Handler can’t handle Lumen-recorders.”

“Maybe that’s her weakness. I’ll bring one next time we duel.”

“Hahaha…”

Gwen slipped out of her dress, then still wearing her bra and panties, freefell into her bed.

Her brain attempted for the N-th time to catch up with the events of the day, yet still somehow failed to process the chaos that followed.

First, Dai had asked her if using Ariel to perform an auspicious, ‘good luck’ ceremony to bring fair tidings and good optics was a good idea. Then suddenly, while she was daydreaming about her Chakram and still weighing the pros and cons of Ariel's public appearance, the reporter started firing off questions.

Her immediate reaction was to explode with a combo-chain of pointless Communist clichés, but thankfully her brain was working fast enough to seize her glib tongue and shove it back down her throat.

Platitudes?

New China?
The Party?
The Will of the Workers?
Praise Chairman Mao?

Holy shit! Are these guys still stuck in the Cultural Revolution? 'There will be no loyalty, except loyalty towards the Party. There will be no love, except the love of Chairman Mao?'

More importantly, was she willing to paint herself in their colour?

It was too dangerous!

Looking like a deer caught in the path of a Disintegrate was far better than having the Pudong Tower and the Britannic Mageocracy doubt her integrity in the future. If she were to start ass-kissing the CCP and pass out little-red books on national television, she might as well start demanding a position in the Inner Party now.

But while she looked on dumbly, Dai ran his mouth to 'save' her.

After that, they had walked onto the ceremony stage, where ten-thousand lumen-globes attached to recorders blitzed her until she was blind. Moreover, Patriarch Fung, Chairman Tu and Magister Chen dragged her onstage again for red carpet shots.

But that wasn’t the end of it, Dai and herself were requested by what she could only assume to be the propaganda corps to stand beside the churning levy with an adrift Ariel for more lumen-pics. When she attempted to dilute the attention by including Ruì and her other co-workers, her NoM companions fled the scene.

Even after all was over and done, there remained the after-party back at the Fung building.

There, as a result of her exposure, her status as an uncooperative guest had suddenly transformed into that of an unbidden co-host. Thus accosted on all sides by hungry-looking men, her hyper-vigilance against potential molesters had stretched her stress-levels to a breaking point. It was almost midnight when she finally goaded Dai into sending her back, exhausted and haggard, stumbling home to fall into a dreamless slumber.

“There she is!”

“Shaa! Shaa!”

“Mao! WHAT IS THAT?!”

At Fudan’s Guoding St entrance, a dog-pack had found their prey.

A dozen lumen-globes fired their payload at the surprised maiden wearing her Friday casuals, a youthful combo combining a denim mini-skirt and a quarter-length blouse.

When the paparazzi gang had burst from the street corner and accosted her, Fudan's infamous Worm Handler reflexively erected a Shield. Caliban meanwhile, leapt in-between its Master and the men with large, pipe-like recording instruments, letting loose a threatening growl.

Unfazed and hardened by years of reporting for the Front, a veteran paparazzo strafed to one side to catch a close-up side-profile of his next paycheck.

"SHAAA!"

A second later, he found himself on the floor, staring straight up at the sky with a Mongolian Death Worm sitting on his chest.

“Arrrrgh!” the man screamed while Caliban drooled all over his face, tentacles flailing this way and that.

“Cali, back!” the girl called out in a blind panic, un-summoning her fiend.

A dozen cameras shifted between her panicked expression and the man on the floor, who by now had taken up his best impression of a critically injured international soccer player grazed on the shoulder by a damp feather.

Confused by the exhibition but seizing the opportunity, the pack's quarry ran for the gate, only to find that at least half of the men had anticipated her intent. From the speed of their movements, she gauged these were Mages and that there was no escaping them.

Ten thousand llamas raced through her mindscape as she sought for a way to escape her predicament. It was all very confusing to her, whose only experience with the media was a paid interview on the Sunday Telegraph promoting 'Women in Finance'. Why Magical Reporters? She cursed the tabloid press. Was the country so at ease that they could spare mystic personnel for the back pages?!

She couldn’t Dimension Door into the university, and she couldn’t fly, which left her with one option.

“Jump!”

Pulling on her skirt, she ran for the wall then leapt over the barrier, careful as to avoid the wards. As a student, she should be safe, though the reporters would have to enter through the gate and there, the campus guards would prevent their entry.

When she landed, it was in a pile of filthy, wet leaves the gardener had piled up against the wall.

Incidentally, she was wearing a white blouse.

The girl sighed, closed her eyes for a moment to control her raging Essence, then materialised her laundry Cube. Using the device while attired ensured that her clothes never entirely dried out and that she would have to endure a horrid clamminess for several hours.

'Pa! Pa! Pa!' Lumen bulbs flashed.

She looked up.

The fucking reporters had Levitate.

**Auspicious Kirin seals the deal in Tonglv**

25th July 2004
 **The Shanghai Times**

**A surprise appearance by a Kirin at the Tonglv Opening Ceremony shocked spectators and wowed officials on Thursday, marking the opening date with an auspicious and fortuitous conclusion.**

The soon to be operating Tonglv Canal will begin with a daily load of forty to sixty ships, reaching 1,500,000 Tons of cargo traversed per twenty-four hours while at capacity. At present, initial estimates show that the canal will generate 33,200,000 HDMs in its first two years as Tonglv's stage 1 construction reaches its conclusion.

The canal's stage 2, involving the expansion of the Nantong Industrial Region, will see another, 3,320 km² of infrastructural development with an estimated extension cost of 9,730,000 HDMs over three years. Once completed, the Nantong-Tonglv region will form the largest industrial-economic bloke outside of Shanghai itself, second only to the Guangdong peninsula. By 2008, the Central Economics Committee has estimated the total economic benefit generated by the project to exceed 1.2 billion HDMs.

"By the end of 2004, the number of jobs for magical personnel will exceed, 20,000. By the completion of stage 2, we fully expect 50,000 full-time jobs to materialise for the Canal's non-magical workers, with an additional 120,000 certification-required auxiliary positions anticipated, as well as countless seasonal positions for labourers, up to half a million," Professor James Ma from Fudan University has stated.

**More on Page 4.**

**Guan-er-dai goes Berserk:
IIUC Contestant Assaults photographer in brazen attack**

26th April 2004
 **Cai Lin : Daily Shanghai**

**New socialite darling Gwen Song: niece to the Hero of the Northern Front, Jun Song, allegedly attacked a newspaper reporter shortly after arriving at Fudan University’s Gouding Road entrance, according to eye-witness reports.**

Miss Song, a second-year student at Fudan University, is the infamous Void Mage Shanghai's second-oldest tertiary institution has been rearing for the IUCC face off against their academic rivals both local and overseas. Famous for her prodigious parallel cultivation of five Schools of Magic and her dual-element of Void and Lightning, the attention-seeking sorceress was seen attending the Tonglv Canal opening ceremony in the company of Dai Fung and was revealed to be personally acquainted with the Tonglv Big Three.

Jeffery Liu, a news reporter of 32 years of age, stated that he approached Miss Song with other reporters to take lumen-pics of her.

“I took a few… and as I walked to the side, giving her plenty of space, her Familiar charged me, ripped my shirt, then tripped me,” he said after the alleged incident.

"As her monster did this, I fell over. I fell to the ground," Liu stated. “I bruised my spine. The monster could have killed me at any time. I was fighting for my life.”

"At no stage did I touch her or speak with her."

Miss Song has offered no comments for the incident, but her Familiar was quoted declaring “Shaaa! Shaaa!” Which according to other students interviewed by Daily Shanghai, inferred that it was ready to kill.

Jeffrey Liu has spoken with Shanghai Municipal police about the incident later Friday but said he would not make a formal complaint about the matter.

“Are you kidding me? If I snitched on the granddaughter of Secretary Song, ten heads wouldn’t be enough to chop!”

“Miss Song may be beautiful, influential and talented, but she represents the very symptom of what's wrong with our society,” an anonymous source was quoted as saying. “She thinks she’s better than us; she thinks she's untouchable.”

Fudan University's admissions office has declined to comment.

‘Smack!’

Dean Luo whacked his prized student across the head with a rolled-up piece of newspaper. On the cover was two images of Gwen, her white legs akimbo, first standing over an agonised reporter with Caliban over his chest, then with her fleeing the scene in a compromising position. On page four there was another picture of her looking peevish while wearing a wet blouse.

“Seriously?” the Dean wanted to break something. Maybe taking the chair and throwing it out the window would make him feel better. “After all we did - after everything I've done! Why did this happen? Do you hate me, Miss Song? Is this payback for Walken?”

“It’s not my intention!” Gwen spluttered. “They caught me by surprise! I never intended to harm the man!”

“I know that!” Luo growled. “They know that! BUT THE WORLD DOESN’T KNOW THAT!”

“Can I sue them or something? For defamation? I've got crystals. A lot of crystals...”

“It's a LITTLE LATE for that, Miss Song! What did your grandfather say?”

“To leave it alone…” Gwen sulked.

Guo had been blissfully unaware at work, happy over the fact that his granddaughter was on the Vid-cast for such an important Party ceremony when the cleaner, Zao, walked in with the tabloids clutched under one arm. Guo had made a habit of always speaking to the workers, and that was when he saw a deeply disconcerting sight on the front page of a news rag famous for its yellow journalism.

The resultant fallout had been spectacular, but the Chairman of the Confidential Communications Committee fought down his hypertension, knowing better than to pick at an open sore.

The tabloids were an arm of the state's Censorship Bureau. Usually, it was harmless entertainment. When needed - it became a scalpel for slashing defacing dissidents.

Towering over an indignant Gwen, the likewise informed Dean rested his face between his meaty palms.

“You’re grounded.”

“What?” Gwen performed a double-take. G-grounded? What was she, a ten-year-old?

“They’re not going to let this go, so you’re grounded. Until this thing blows over, you’re going to stay here, in Fudan. I’ll tell the maids to clear out one of the international guest houses for you. Petra can come and stay as well if you feel you'll be lonely. I honestly believe she would prefer living a spit's distance from Heilong Laboratory. Until the comp, focus on your studies and finish up your spell list. I’ve got far too much riding on your IIUC right now. I can’t afford to have you running around Consuming reporters.”

“I didn’t hurt him!” Gwen screeched. “O come on, how’s that fair? I need to work!”

The Dean remained adamant.

Now committed, he approached the girl pleadingly and for a moment, wondered if taking a knee would make his case more convincing.

"Gwen," he solicited her empathy. “Until the IIUC starts, for both of our sakes, I need you to be picture perfect and your reputation unsullied. For your work, I’ll get Birch to go set up a short-range Teleportation Circle at Guoding Road. So can you please, PLEASE stay out of trouble? Is it so hard to stay focused on your training for four months?”

Gwen grew red as a beet, swallowing the ‘You’re not my Dad!’ sentiment simmering at her throat.

She owed the Dean this much at least.

"Okay." She relented, "I still have my birthday though. It's going to be big, or so Dai tells me. Everyone is going to be there, including the Big Three..."

The Dean looked as though he was passing a kidney stone.

"How about..." Gwen felt she should probably give the Dean a hug. "... I give you an invitation?"


Spring erupted, emerald and wet as a whistle as Gwen’s second summer in Shanghai cast the domed city into a heat haze, wilting the greenery. Cloistered by the university’s shaded lanes, youths in the May of their lives, lithe-limbed and slick with sweat, came and went, the gossamer fabrics of their shirts and dresses clinging to their skin.

Gwen Song, infamous Worm Handler and now man-handler of reporters, sat on a bench with her white legs crossed, Kirin to one side and cosmic horror on the other, taking a breather.

Earlier, after so long, she had received a Message from Mayuree, stating that matters at home forbade her from travelling abroad. The Tyrant, Mayuree’s Message had read, was wreaking havoc around Yangon, meaning all of her formidable powers of Divination were required to avert the worst of what disasters their developing nation-state must now endure.

“Sister Maymyint is going to attend in my stead,” Mayuree’s sweet voice had chirped happily, devoid of any disappointment. “I’ve prepared a wonderful present for you: look forward to it!”

Gwen exhaled, her body languished and beaten.

It wasn’t so much that she was sad Mayuree couldn’t attend her birthday party. It was more so that her friend had been such a constant companion of her uni-life that in her absence, something felt amiss, like sliced salmon without wasabi. With Yue and Evee, it was at least her choice. With Mia, it was as though she'd been suddenly uprooted. That all three were absent and unavailable, not even on her LRM Message device made her all the more upset; especially Evee, who was away on fieldwork. As for Yue, Gunther had said that Alesia took her on exchange to New Zealand so that her friend could Fireball enemies other than Mermen.

"Is there something you want for your birthday?" Gunther had asked for both himself and his sister-in-craft.

Gwen declined, informing her brother-in-craft that he had already given her too much, especially that family insignia ring.

Gunther had laughed, informing her it was no big deal, which made her all the more guilty. They had prepared a gift, he hinted, but it was with Alesia.

Conversely, the month spent within the confines of Fudan had been fruitful. At the very least, a high-distinction average was assured.

Regarding the incident, Walken inferred that he felt forces unseen were testing her. Her grandfather had said more or less the same thing, though his exact advice was to ignore it altogether because 'the lotus is unsullied by the mud', which Gwen took to mean she was 'sludge proof' so long as she held value.

Not wasting the extra time afforded by her confinement, she and Magister Lee had finished her new spell. They had furthermore lodged the blueprint into the Tower’s Spell Bank, marked 'Not for Exchange' but to future proof copy-right claims. The process had been tedious, involving the Dean, Magister Lee and a drop of her blood, but when all was said and done, Gwen held the certification in her hand and felt the unique joy of creation.

**Void Chakram**
Evocation-Conjuration (4)
Casting Time: 14 Major, 13 Minor Incantation
Range: Far
Components: Somatic, Verbal
Duration: Instant, Persistent
 _This unique Void-spell creates a ring of Void-matter which rotates to form a flat disk with a deadly cutting edge,_ _maximising the efficiency of the expended vitality._ _Future revisions may include Seeking, Channelling, Echoing and other additional effects._

On the footnote of the entry was the tab ‘author’ with her name ‘Gwen Song’, together with a publication date, the institution and the certifier.

Conversely, Lulan’s Panzerschreck wasn't yet ready, though Jinwei, Magister Walken and Kusu were hard at work modifying the magic.

"Eeee!"

Ariel rolled its furry body over her thighs, resting its head on her chest. Immediately, the heat grew insufferable.

How was it that Shanghai was so bloody humid?!

She had half a mind to get her clothes enchanted with cooling and drying Glyphs!

Still, heat or otherwise, her reprieve was at an end.

For the next eight hours, she would cease to be herself.

“Why do I feel like I am getting married,” Gwen sceptically remarked while a stylist straightened out her hair and another thickened her lashes. For the last hour, she had sat in the ready room of the Four Seasons' grand ballroom, attended by half a dozen maids chipping away at her body.

In all honesty, it was what she had expected. Leaving her birthday celebration to Dai had been a classic manifestation of her masochism, and now she was asphyxiating under an avalanche of bothersome details.

At first, they had planned for a hundred odd guests, mostly people Gwen knew or had known through the course of her stay in Shanghai.

In the first draft, Gwen’s immediate friends and family would attend. Babulya, grandfather, uncle Jun, her father and his new wife, now heavily pregnant, as well as her brother. She had even invited Mai and her brother’s DC Captain, Kelvin Ma.

After the Tonglv episode, the Nantong Fungs decided to make an appearance, bringing with them Patriarch Shen and an entourage that included his wife, his relatives and the young woman Gwen had saved from the Water Ghost’s den, Lihong.

A week later, they received the coup-de-grace.

By mid-May, the news of Ayxin's appearance had made the rounds through high society.

Somehow, Gwen's birthday bash was now an official gathering attended by Shanghai’s big-wigs, involving the Tonglv Big Three, Ayxin the Dragon-princess, Wang Enterprises, the leading mistress of the House of M, a whole host of notable names and worthy titles, as well as the children attached to the city's movers and shakers.

Her eighteenth, as it were, was now no more than a convenient excuse for the men and women of wealth and weight to meet and greet. Excluding herself, many marriages of convenience and politics would emerge by the night’s end, blessed by a Kirin and a Dragon.

As for Gwen herself, she wasn’t allowed to mingle until the moment was ripe. While her friends ate and drank like kings and queens outside, she was locked up inside the ready room, watching the clock make its ponderous circles while the maids modified every inch of her existence.

"Er... no padding," Gwen declined the generous offer.

Worst of all, she couldn't choose her dress.

For a birthday girl, she should arguably be wearing red. When Gwen saw the selection of dresses Dai had recommended, all she saw were faux wedding outfits.

After a tart exchange with Dai, Magus Maymaruya brought the dress she would be wearing.

It was Mayuree’s gift.

Mia’s selection wasn’t quite the flesh-peddling, skin-coloured mini-dress Qīn had made her wear, though it wasn’t much better stylistically speaking. The dress Mayuree had picked out was a gem-encrusted gown in salmon pink, sleeveless and studded with pearls.

“Now that's what I call impressive apparel.” Dai smacked his lips, swallowing at the sight of her white arms peeking in and out of the diaphanous shawl. “Just one of those South Sea pink pearls is worth a dozen HDMs. The whole outfit? Probably close to five or six thousand.”

“Why?” Gwen moved her legs, struggling against the thirty centimetres of freedom the dress’ fishtail setting allowed. The damn thing was absurdly heavy. Had she been any less of an ox, she would have had to buff herself with Enhance Strength and Fortitude.

"To flaunt of course.” Dai smirked. “Those are Creature Cores, you know. You're wearing the lifetime income of a low-level official.”

She wanted to say that wearing the remains of ten-thousand oysters was revolting, but the dress was Mayuree’s heartfelt gift, delivered from her homeland. Only by wearing it happily and without complaint could she send Mayuree sparkling lumen-recordings.

“Miss,” one of her assistants interrupted her daydreaming from below. Thanks to her four-inch heels, the dress was hoisted an inch above the floor. With her piled hair, she was almost two meters tall. “You have ten minutes.”

Gwen eyed the door.

It was time to put on a face to meet the faces that you meet.

Dragons, as a race, were not the sort to feel torn.

An act was right because a Dragon had performed it, and because one of their kind had performed it, the results, therefore, must be right. Only a Dragon had the right to contest another Dragon.

When she resided on the Mount, Ayxin was second only to Ruxin, who was the oldest. When Ruxin left to claim a lair of his own, Ayxin became the penultimate being on the Mount. When Golos erred, she punished him. When Ryxi failed some task, she berated him. As her father had never harshly rebuked Ayxin, she could only presume her wisdom preeminent.

But coming down to the mortal world, meeting Jun and then the girl, she felt the tumorous growth of doubt swelling under her scales, filling her with disquiet.

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Her progenitor had plans for the girl, or more accurately, the girl featured strongly in whatever future the Yinglong had foreseen.

Though hardly possessing the God-like wisdom of her immortal father, Ayxin couldn’t help but feel a chill whenever the girl inched forward in her progress, sensing that somehow, the calamity of which her father spoke of wasn’t so much one for the humans, but for the Yinglong as well, and maybe even Ayxin and her lover.

Arguably then, Ayxin should keep away from the calamitous sorceress. But when Ayxin wilfully bonded with Jun, a relative to the girl and her caretaker, the Yinglong had remained silent. This contradiction was the source of her anxiety. As the faithful ‘vessel’ of her father's will in the material world, her life outside the mountain peaks of the Yinglong's five-taloned palm was most unnerving.

“Ayxin?” Jun carefully passed her a flute of bubbling, fermented grape-vinegar.

Below their raised dais was a multitude of human officials, each wanting a word or sign from the Princess of Huangshan. It was a scene not unfamiliar to Ayxin, who centuries ago, had seen the same clichéd deference and worship even as a girl-child. Perhaps in another nation, she would be less conspicuous and visible, but here, among these descendants of the Yellow Emperor, she was a goddess.

For the folk of the yellow river, the worship of the Shenlong, the Yinglong and the Dragon-kind were engraved into their bones, carved into the nation’s lore. Even their most common idioms and Confucian psalms drew inspiration from her kith and kin.

A sudden blast of music filled the hall.

The Master of Ceremonies, an NoM with a glib tongue and a sculpted, flawless mien, announced the entrance of the calamity into their midst.

The crowd turned as one.

Ayxin exhaled. At long last, she could rest.

"Miss Gwen SONG!"

Inching forward, Gwen recalled an old 80’s show called Wrestle-Mania which used to be on television.

The fighting had made no sense, and the storylines were convoluted, but what did impress was the increasingly more elaborate entrances taken by the wrestlers every other episode.

Never had she conceived that her childhood fantasy would come true in such a spectacular fashion; that one day - she would be a woman whose entrance warranted BGM.

Smoke, exploding confetti, illusory flames and an orchestra accompanied her arrival, attired in a pink-pearl wonder. On stage, an MC accounted for her presence as though she would run onto the dais, shoulder-barge Dai, then slam him against the ropes before gutter-stomping his face to the ground to the cheer of ten thousand spectators.

To Gwen's crystal-counting eyes, the whole setup was an exercise in excess.

A giant, golden ‘Eighteen’ in Chinese pictograms floated across the high ceiling of the Grand Ballroom, completely negating the faux 1920s colonial Shanghai decor, while hundreds of guests, most of whom couldn’t give two shits about her, cheered half-heartedly, waiting for the show to be over.

Quickly, she skittered, inches at a time, for the embrace of her family and friends.

Babulya was wiping away a tear of joy.
Guo looked festive and pissed in equal measure.
Her uncle stood next to a smiling Dragon-vessel.
Her father and her step-mother were nowhere to be seen.
Her mother had declined to attend.
Tao and Mina, and their parents clapped alongside her grandmother, besides which stood Richard, Petra, Lulu and Mina, her classmates and workmates.
Her Instructors, all of them, including Walken, stood awkwardly, joining the circle of applause.
And finally, Dai and the Nantong power-brokers gave their public benedictions before retreated to a private corner.

What then followed was an hour-long gifting ceremony, followed by another hour of lumen-pics. The reporters, Gwen noted, were perfect gentlemen when in the presence of the Secretaries.

Grinning and bearing it all, her only solace was that she had stuffed herself prior. Should the tabloids obtain a picture of her in a 5000 HDM dress, holding multiple pheasant drumsticks in each hand, she would run afoul of punishing headlines.

With the main event over, Gwen had half-a-mind to tear the bottom of her dress to let her legs breathe. Despite escaping to the balcony, she found no solace in the damp humidity of the hotel’s sky garden, but at least she could avoid the cacophony of men and women peddling politics. Inside, Richard had gathered a little following of his own, consisting of young ladies; likewise, Petra's unbidden escorts had cornered her for pictures. Unseen, the Li siblings were off trying to load up on the mana-rich banquet, while the Wang siblings were with their father, being passed around the room like chattel at a flea market. After giving Gwen a thick red envelope full of currency cards, her grandparents had likewise left to mingle politely with Gwen's betters. As for the principal culprit of her party, Mister Dai Fung, the young man was having the time of his life beside his well-spoken father, evidently born and bred for statesmanship.

In a way, Gwen was glad that Dai’s mislead celebration had rectified her myopia regarding her love-struck buffoon. Ultimately, she rationalised, Dai really was his father’s son. Even though they worked together and the young man’s efforts at love were incompetent, he was clearly in his element here, far better than she could ever be.

As for herself, it was only by sending forth Ariel and warding herself with Caliban that she could escape to the balcony to elude the chicken noises crowding her head.

But she wasn't alone for long.

“Miss Song,” came the voice of a woman whose accented syllables had the slightest of lisps. The slender woman wore a one-piece dress in cerulean, punctuated by an enormous pearl fastened at the throat, beneath which a serpentine figure tantalised the viewer. “I hope I am not intruding.”

Gwen turned politely, recognising the face from the gift-giving ceremony.

Caliban slithered aside. The eldest of the House of M approached.

“I am Maymyint - Mayuree is my little sister.”

“We met earlier; it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Maymyint. Thank you for your extravagant gift.”

The two women gingerly shook.

“Do you like the dress? Mia picked it out herself.”

“It’s lovely.” Gwen touched a hand to her pearl-plated bodice. “She shouldn’t have, its far too precious for the likes of me.”

“Think nothing of it; she speaks of you daily.”

“How is Mia?”

“Homesick.” Maymyint smiled. Gwen noticed her mouth was overlarge and predatory. “While in her homeland, I may add. She misses you.”

“I miss her too,” Gwen declared wistfully.

“You may see her sooner than you think.” Maymyint opened her palm to reveal a Storage Ring. “I have another gift for you from our Matriarch. However, it’s best if you hold off opening it until the right time.”

Gwen held off her impulsive curiosity.

“Please take it,” Maymyint implored. “This is an important moment for Mayuree.”

After a moment of hesitation, Gwen plucked the ring from Maymyint’s palm.

“Can I ask-”

“You will know,” Maymyint replied cryptically. “All I can say is that it has to do with Mayuree’s talent.”

“Ah~.” Gwen realised what the woman was selling. She would keep it about her person for now. “I’ll take care of it then. Can you tell me what Mayuree’s doing now?”

Maymyint’s smile split from ear to ear.

“I have just the thing.” The woman flashed her pearlescent teeth. “I’ve brought some Lumen-pics.”

“Ooo.” Gwen cooed. “Let’s see!”

“Here.” Maymyint produced a portable lumen-caster, one of the latest models from the States. With a few input glyphs, a picture of Mayuree appeared, dressed in the traditional garb of her people, standing next to an enormous elephant.

“How cute!”

“You’d think, but they stink.” Maymyint's tone grew mirthful. “Here’s the next one.”

Sure enough, there was a picture of Mayuree half-sick with nausea.

“Do you have one of the Quay?” Gwen asked, recalling that Magus Maymaruya had waxed sentimentally about the old colonial districts.

“Naturally, she and I had coffee and croissants by the Yangon river; it’s a must, you know,” Maymyint explained, swiping through the images. “Mia is such a sweet and gentle girl, so obedient; unlike her brother Marong.”

Arm in arm with Jun, Ayxin made the round through the ballroom while her companion politely fended off the guests. She had moved from the dais because she had grown tired of the praises, promises and the stupidity of her moon-eyed worshippers.

That and Ayxin figured she should give Gwen her gift in person, ideally away from the prying eyes of the Humans, whose bodies reeked of onions, old soy sauce and greed.

Focusing her mind, she sensed the presence of her scale just outside in the sky garden and instructed her two caretakers: the Tower Magisters assigned to her whenever she left the Pudong Special District, to disperse the crowd.

The Masters obliged, finding no reason why someone of her position should be denied such a simple request.

Gwen was with company, though as Ayxin approached, the two parted amicably.

Lowering her head, the woman stood to one side while Ayxin passed.

"?"

Ayxin paused, causing Jun to fall out of step.

She sniffed the air.

Not wanting to leave his niece waiting, Jun parted from his companion to join Gwen by the balcony while Ayxin turned to regard the quietly cowed woman, whose long hair hid her face.

“You,” Ayxin commanded the slender female. “Look up.”

Quivering a little, the eldest of the House of M did as the Dragon-princess asked.

A beautiful enough face, Ayxin observed, but cruel and sadistic, full of deception typical of the Humans. There was something else there as well, something familiar to Ayxin, though it was faint, dilute, almost negligible.

“Re wux ir di udoka?” Ayxin twisted her fleshy, clumsy tongue to produce the correct Draconic.

“Nomeno ir waphic ergriff ekess faestir,” the woman replied inexpertly. Her words were nervous and strained. For the female, the language wasn’t a projection of the soul, but a kind of mimicry, a crude facsimile.

But the accent wasn’t what had bothered Ayxin.

She took a fistful of the woman’s hair and brought it closer to her face.

There was a scent here, a vaguely familiar one. One Ayxin hadn’t sensed in half-a-century, not since their eldest left to found his lair.

“Hey! What are you doing!” Gwen's churlish, tactless voice rang across the garden. “That’s my friend’s sister! Leave her alone!”

“Qe gethrisja!” Ayxin barked at the thin-blooded peon.

The woman formed a prayer with her hands held overhead, fell to her knees, touched her forehead to the cold, damp pavement, then retreated while facing her superior.

When Gwen arrived with Jun, her demeanour was catty.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she demanded of the Dragon-kin.

Curiously, Ayxin felt a strange sense of comfort. Having someone speak so candidly, even more so than Jun, was refreshing. It was how she had conversed with her brothers at on the Mount, and it was the sort of banter that she sorely missed.

“Congratulations on surviving your eighteenth cycle,” Ayxin shot back. “Impressive for a Void Mage. I wish you at least another decade.”

“Don’t you know,” the girl riposted, grinning with confidence. “By eating more of your kind, I could live as long as you.”

“Or you could die of indigestion.”

“Or my appetite could grow calamitous.”

The two women sparked, the unstoppable spear meeting the immovable shield.

Beside Ayxin, Jun gulped his wine.

“Ayxin has a gift for you,” he quickly clarified. “Here.”

Ayxin opened her hand to reveal another Storage Ring: the sort used to hold living things in stasis. For the gift, Ayxin had chosen the smallest container permissible.

“We got you ginseng,” Jun explained. “It’s only five-hundred years old, but Ryxi raised it.”

“Does Ryxi know about this?” Gwen glanced at Ayxin, imagining a howling white serpent.

Ayxin shrugged. Even in showing nonchalance she was simply stunning. Ever since she had taken up with Jun, her body had grown less androgynous and far more feminine. Any day now, she imagined, she would be heavy with egg. Just imagining her partner cradling a child-sized egg, singing it lullabies was enough to put her in a good mood.

“Thank you.” Jun’s niece took the ring with both hands, then bowed earnestly for the gift.

“It’s a lively one,” Jun warned her. “It’ll make a run for it at the first opportunity, so make sure you’re on guard. Don’t take more than a few slices at a time; you might bloat.”

“What?” The girl laughed.

“He means your body will explode from the excess vitality,” Ayxin appended Jun's prudishness. “You’re no Dragon-kin, no matter what the Old One has engendered.”

The atmosphere once again grew awkward.

“We’ll talk later.” Jun realised having the two women in one place was mental torture. Both were arguably Dragon-touched, and with their Draconic-blessings also came pride, possessiveness and a natural tendency to butt heads. “If I am out of Pudong next month, we’ll meet for lunch.”

“Sure thing, Uncle Jun.” Gwen gave her uncle her best smile.

Turning to her best side, Ayxin gave Jun's niece a wilting glance before leaving with her man, one hand clasped to his waist, leaving Gwen seething and white-knuckled, clutching the ginseng ring.

Sensing Gwen's agony, Ayxin’s mood improved immensely as she sauntered away, her irritated demeanour passing as though a summer sunshower. Not only had she given the girl a herb watered with Ryxi’s expulsions, but she had also shown the arrogant whelp that no matter how many mountains of crystals, rare ingredients and magical items she would amass, her heart’s desire would forever belong to Ayxin.


From her make-shift den, the Worm Handler of Fudan emerged. Though paler for the effort, her indoor incarceration throughout the smothering summer was overall for the better, touching on many of her milestones.

First and foremost, 'Link Sight', A.K.A Ariel Vision, was now complete. When activated, she could see the world from Ariel's eyes so long as she kept up her concentration, albeit staying stationary was necessary should she wish to avoid sensory nausea.

Curiously, while wearing Caliban V.R, what she saw was a greyscale world where the only vibrancy came from people and things that showed signs of life. The more vitality a creature or person possessed, the more vivid their ‘presence’ appeared to Caliban’s ‘senses’.

“How curious.” Walken was surprised as well. “Many creatures can hide their visual presence or their mana signature, but few can hide their life force. What's the range?”

Unfortunately, even at a dozen meters, Caliban-sight gave her a terrific headache. Perhaps, Gwen thought, if Caliban could acquire a form factor with a powerful sense ability, her Familiar could improve its 'Foodar'.

Her second milestone was the improvement of her Void Chakram, which conceptually, took the form of an Aerobie Drone.

After several revisions, her superior control over Conjuration took precedence over Evocation, creating a hovering ring that could be commanded to ‘seek’ a target up to two hundred odd meters away. One disadvantage was her low-tier 'seeker' invocation, inferring that when a creature left her line-of-sight, the ring returned to a linear trajectory.

When all was said and done, she published the spell into the Spell directory as an addendum to her original.

**Void Seeker**
Conjuration-Evocation (5)
Casting Time: 50 Major, 31 Minor Incantation
Range: Far, LoS
Components: Somatic, Verbal
Duration: Persistent
 _This spell creates a projectile ring of Void-matter which rotates to form a flat disk with a deadly cutting edge; this entry is for the seeker variation with termination on target loss._

Her next objective was to create multiple 'rings' as to possess both a Void and a Lightning variation of her staple offensive magic - Ball Lightning. When used in conjunction, electricity would stun the target while her Void Aerobies slice and dice, or inversely, her Void spell could chip away scale or hide, opening the target to electrical permeation.

And finally, Lulan submitted her Panzerschreck.

**Panzerschreck**
Evocation-Conjuration (5)
Casting Time: 58 Major, 23 Minor Incantation
Range: Extreme
Components: Somatic, Verbal
Duration: Persistent
 _This original spell is designed with the Huashan Iron Heart Technique as a prerequisite, though sufficiently skilled Conjurers utilising solid Elements may forgo this process. Panzerschreck, also known as Armour Scare, is a Signature Magic created through repurposing Huashan Sword School's ‘Piercing-Heart’ technique. Upon manifestation, this hybrid spell launches a projectile of penetrative solid metal. The shape of the missile (See appendix 1.1 and 1.2) allows for extended displacement._

As a part of their deal, for Huashan's facsimile, Gwen had omitted the appendices which included footnotes for a rotating, four-finned projectile. When finally Lulan test-fired the finned-rods into the distance, Gwen couldn't help but realise that she had subconsciously reproduced an old world junior-science staple - Match-rockets!

Lulan was blasting off bloody match-rockets! The DIY aluminium rocketry had been the bane of 90s parents whose apartments lacked internet and whose kids couldn't be nannied by smartphones! Thanks to her chain-smoking father, there had been an endless supply of Red Heads in the house, meaning many a boring summer, Gwen had launched a fusillade onto a neighbour’s roof. The neighbour had then berated Morye when one of these smouldering projectiles lodged in the mesh screen, melting the cheap plastic.

Unfortunately, aiming the Piercing Heart Sword remained an art form. Though Gwen had a vague idea of the mathematics involved, it would take more than herself for Lulan to gain the accuracy afforded by computerised artillery trajectories. For now, the inconsistency of Lulan’s firing angle, the weight of her conjured ammunition, and the configuration of her ‘swords’ all impeded repeatable performance metrics. For the near future, they would have to CC up a ballistics mathematician or buff Lulu's aim with “True Strike”, a spell exclusive to Diviners trained in manipulating the threads of probability.

In bearing witness to a dozen near-hits, Walken expressed his scepticism of the spell's usefulness. Gwen conversely, assured Lulan that should their magic attain perfection, it would revolutionise low-tier, long-ranged assault spells. Though Lulan was effectively attacking with strangely-shaped swords in the eyes of the others, Gwen knew that if and when they could aim the damn thing, accuracy exceeding several kilometres should be entirely possible, expelling the common perception that only strategic spells had distances exceeding line-of-sight.

If she could furthermore secure non-magical staff capable of such calculations, their institutionalised knowledge could be used again and again. Gwen was confident that when the time came, the single-most terrifying reality of the Great War, that strange arithmetic of chance, would befall any enemy foolish enough to siege her city.

But as for her immediate endeavour, it was the teamwork meet-n-greet that occupied her afternoon.

Gwen found her future companions sitting in a conspicuously large rectangle consisting of sixteen candidates.

Most notably, Lu Fung was missing.

The Dean cleared his throat.

“As you have noticed, some of your nominated peers have chosen to drop out from the second stage,” the Dean explained. “I will not speak of why they have retracted their applications, though I will reiterate that by today’s end, six of you shall be stricken from the roll.”

A collective shuffling spread through the crowd.

“Good. Now introduce yourselves. Gwen, you start.”

At the mention of her name, the others turned to regard the infamous Worm Handler of Fudan, as seen on TV.

Gwen stood then courteously bowed from the waist.

“Hello, my name is Gwen Song, a Void and Lightning user. I am well versed in Conjuration and Evocation, and my Familiars are Ariel and Caliban. I aspire to be a member of the Offence or Control team. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

Concise and without a hint of ego. The Dean nodded approvingly. For all her blunders outside of the university, Gwen had a knack the others lacked.

Lulan next bowed her head.

“Lulan Li, Sword Mage. I am an Earthen user and a CQB Combat Mage.”

“Richard Huang. Defence or Control. Team Gwen. Conjurer with Abjuration as my secondary School of Magic. I possess a high-tier Water Spirit.”

“Hello, I am Lea,” Richard’s Undine, resplendent, semi-transparent and sensuous, hovered above her Master. That Richard's spirit matched Dean Luo’s Ellen was enough to set the others on edge, so much that the ‘Team Gwen’ which preceded his boast fell on deaf ears.

“Anita Wong.” A girl with the same irises as Petra raised her hand. “Mobile Defender. I can retrieve or restore mana by having my Spirit consume transmuted stone. My Mineral is Calcite: it looks like this. I will be providing you with armour-buffs and makeshift defensive formations."

Without an incantation, Anita transmuted a clump of turf, producing a small knee-high barrier of jagged, hex-pyramidal crystals.

“Bai Tei.” Senior Bai stood and bowed. “Defensive position. Dust Abjurer. I am on my third selection and my second IIUC. I will be in your care.” A third-year, Bai was widely known throughout the university and needed no introduction. In all likelihood, with his seniority, Bai would take on the position of Team Captain.

“Karie Mok. I am a two-timer as well, along with that gravedigger over there,” the headliner Diviner of the team announced. The girl had a catty mien that reminded Gwen of a typical ‘Young Miss’. Her slightly upturned eyes gave her a feline expression both haughty and aggressive. “I am your only Diviner, so when the time comes, listen to what I say, else ignore me at your peril.”

The rest of the team stiffened.

“I am… E-Eunae Lee,” a quiet voice spoke from somewhere.

Eunae?! Gwen arched her neck to see, noting that it was indeed the South Korean bestiary exchange-student who had presented herself. Extending a hand, she waved at Eunae.

Eunae waved back with comparably less enthusiasm. The last time they parted, Caliban had scared her shitless.

“I am… a Positive Magic user. And I have a Familiar Spirit called Luyi…”

A healer?
Many a furrowed brow met Eunae's proclamation.

Curiously, Gwen didn’t recall Eunae being short-listed in April.

“Eunae is a Utility caster,” the Dean explained. “She is skilled at dispelling curses, hexes, and mind-afflicting enchantments. Likewise, her Familiar engenders a group-wide Area of Effect Rejuvenating effect that detoxifies and wards against poisons. Isn't that right, Miss Lee?”

Eunae nodded fiercely.

The Dean had a point, though most teams would prefer a dispeller-Enchanter who could also buff. For day-long Quests, it was entirely possible to glamour the questing party for up to 24 hours without the need to include said Enchanter in the away team.

Comparably, Eunae's active inclusion would detract from the team's power level. Had Walken been present, he would have reminded the others that teams from Europe may field Witches, whose infamous hex-spells offered buffs and debuffs in equal measure, all the while retaining a respectable tier of individual firepower.

“Yessir, I have received permission to participate from Ewha U."

“Wait, she’s Korean?” Karie stated the obvious. “We’re going to be competing against Seoul U, aren’t we?”

“Half-Korean,” the Dean reminded their Diviner. “Just as Jiro is half-Japanese. The IIUC is not a nationalist conflict, Miss Mok. It’s a skill-exchange between academic associations and Fudan, unlike Tsinghua or Jiantong, remains committed to being an international university!”

Karie Mok shrugged.

Gwen could sense the tension even from the front of the row.

“Rene Mui,” spoke the next girl, one Gwen had presumed was South-East Asian until she announced her name. “I hail from the Thundering Peninsula south of Guangdong. I am a Magma Mage studying under Instructor Hufei Chen. My preferred position is Offence.”

“Jiro Peng,” the half-Japanese member declared himself. “Fire Evoker, tier 6. Just in case anyone’s wondering, no, I have never been to Japan. I was born and raised right here in Shanghai; my grandmother was a refugee from Okinawa. I have contracted an Undying Firebird named Tanyu.”

Impressive! Gwen wanted to clap. She knew of Jiro’s Firebird from Walken, who had said that the young man's flames were near-impossible to douse without first incapacitating Jiro.

“Kitty Liang…” Gwen had been staring at Kitty since they arrived, making the girl uncomfortable in more ways than one. Her voice was quieter in public, a complete one-eighty when compared to the girl who screamed at Gwen to fuck off. “Ice and Air. Control or Offence. I have a Roc Spirit, a juvenile. My speciality is aerial combat.”

“Tai Sun, Earthen Mage, Abjurer. I am from the Taishang Sect, a Defender like Senior Bai,” another contestant intoned dejectedly, realising that the stationary defence position was likely going to be Bai’s alone.

“Gigi Yang, Ermei Sword Mage.” A young woman with flowing, waist length hair glanced at Lulan and Gwen. “I am a Mineral user as well. My speciality is CQB, like Miss Li. I am aiming for an Offence slot.”

“Chen Chan, Mud Mage.” A stout young man yawned. “Control. Jiangsu.”

“Jinwei Li, Sword Mage.” Jinwei, Lulan’s cousin, said nothing else.

“Miriam Yen, Salt Mage. I hail from the Qingdao Five River Sect.” A muscular young woman with an impressive physique struck out her chest. “Defence, offence, I don’t care. Our Clan’s Magic is very versatile.”

“Tsai Fu, Earthen Conjurer-Enchanter. I can make terracotta-golems,” their final member intoned miserably, realising that when Dean Luo had advised that he rethink the application, he was trying to spare him the embarrassment.

Eight Clanners, excluding Lulan, Gwen noted. Almost half their number.
That in itself was enough to indicate the unbalanced influence exercised by the Clans. She wondered if the Dean already had a short-list of ten in mind, balanced between independents and Clanners. Presuming herself, Richard and Lulan counted as independents, that left room for the Diviner, possibly Eunae, then finally five or six Mages from Sects.

‘CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!’

The Dean's meaty palms met in prayer.

“Good, now that you’re all acquainted. Let’s proceed with the teamwork examination. Conjure Objects!”

Upon the open lawn of the campus oval, a mass of strange and twisted components, some metal, some rubber, some large and small, mundane and magical, littered the immaculately mown turf.

It was an awe-inspiring display of control and mental fortitude.

“Those are the dismantled parts of 'four' planar purifiers,” the Dean began. “The scenario, based on a prior IUCC Quest, is that you and the other teams from three universities are fighting for machine parts to save the NoMs living in your Frontier Districts. As this is a trial to gauge how well you mesh with others, we will not be taking your Magical Ability into account. As such, sans sorcery and in teams of four; each group will occupy a quadrant of the field! Your quadrant and everything on it will belong to your team.”

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Immediately, the IIUC contestants scanned the field.

Feeling an intense déjà vu, Gwen spontaneously searched their surroundings for quintessential components. Blessed with fortified vision, she quickly spotted a bundle of nondescript paper in the furthest quadrant almost two hundred meters away. Though the writing couldn't be seen, she could ascertain with confidence that she had spotted the assembly manuals.

“Richard, Lulan, to me!” She took the initiative before the others could act and the Dean could continue.

Eunae sidled toward Gwen pleadingly, though Gwen was glancing at Kitty, or barring that, Karie.

Without a word, Jinwei walked behind the trio.

“…” Gwen exchanged a look with the zealous Clanner. Mate, you’re too keen, her eyes chided the young man; if he had joined an opposing camp, he could have served as a mole.

Taking Gwen’s cue, the others shuffled into their respective assemblies.

Group 1 consisted of herself, Lulan, Richard and Jinwei.
Group 2 consisted of Rene, Jiro, Eunae and Karie
Group 3 consisted of Bai, Chen, Gigi and Tai.
Group 4 consisted of Miriam, Kitty, Anita and Tsai.

“I am happy to see that you are all very keen.” The Dean grinned. “As stated, this a contest to see how well you work together, not just as a group of four, but as a whole, to reconstruct these purification filters as quickly as possible and within the time limit. The group to reconstruct the LAST filter will face harsh penalties when we consider who to exclude. Likewise, the members who assemble the filter FIRST will receive priority.”

“Also, in considering your actions, scores given will be used to calculate seniority within your IIUC party. Students with the highest team-work rating will receive the title of Captain and Vice Captain, while those of you with the lowest, up to the 10th member, will be subordinate. Once established, your leader's decisions are absolute. During the competition, should you exercise insubordination, you will be punished accordingly. For the six members soon to be disqualified, you may be called upon for the competition if there are casualties among the core members, or if a replacement is deemed necessary.”

The Dean gave them all a smirk of encouraging confidence.

“Now, who will choose first?”

Gwen's hand shot up, but to the surprise of all, she turned to face Karie’s group.

“Karie, you’re our only Diviner, so I want to give you the first pick.”

In response, the Diviner gave the Worm Handler a head-to-toe, trying to ascertain her ploy.

“Why don’t you pick first?” the Diviner offered. “I can’t use my talent, after all, talk about stupid.”

Gwen extended a hand to the other two groups.

“Kitty? Senior Bai?”

Kitty and Co. appeared indecisive.

“Ladies first.” Senior Bai folded his arms. As one of the people who were sure to be selected, he was more interested in Gwen's game.

“Very well.” Gwen breathed out. She pointed to the east quadrant, which had the least amount of parts. “We’ll take that one.”

“Miss, I do believe the west quadrant has two Cores,” Jinwei spoke just loud enough for her to hear.

“Trust me on this.”

“Miss...”

“Gwen must know something.” Lulan stopped her cousin, who looked unconvinced.

Very soon, the others picked their quadrants.

“Your time starts now," the Dean announced before sauntering away to the bleachers, simultaneously informing the Proctors to activate the surveillance mandala.

A gentle thrum hummed over the field for a split-second.

“Alright everyone, with me,” Gwen told the group to follow. “Over yonder, hop to it.”

“Shouldn’t we be taking inventory?” Richard glanced at the others, wondering what it took to steal from the others. With Lea, he should be able to pull it off. From the look of their quadrant, they didn’t have a Core.

“No need; just come.”

The group followed.

At the furthest edge, watched by dozens of curious passersby, Gwen retrieved a stack of paper weighed under a glass panel.

“That’s…”

“The instruction manual.” Gwen waved it in the air for all to see.

“How did you know?!” Lulan exhaled a sigh of relief, glad that Gwen indeed knew what she was doing.

With a deft splay of both her hand, Gwen fanned out four copies of the manual.

“How curious,” Richard observed. “I think I am starting to understand how the game is played. Shall we thrift for a Core first? Senior Bai's quadrant has two; maybe get them to give up multiple surplus parts. Between the two teams, I am sure we can corner at least one other team. How about we start with Kitty?”

“That's beside the point,” Gwen urged her peers to huddle. “Listen up.”

She held the instruction just out of sight.

“This isn’t a game for us to win,” she explained. “This is a game to determine who leads and who leaves.”

“Ergh…” Lulan swallowed nervously. Of the three, she was the least likely to be picked, though she had a lifeline in the form of Jinwei.

“So forget about coming first,” their companion intoned seriously. “Instead, we’re going to do everything we can to facilitate everyone else's' success.”

Her team regarded her strangely, even for Gwen, this was too much of a mental pitfall.

"I am not sure if you noticed." She struck a thumb out at the Dean, her mind working furiously to construe a passable analogy. "But the old man never said anything about winning or losing..."

In the mid-00s, during her university days, Gwen had edged past several thousand contestants to participate in the HSBC Young Businesswoman’s program in Hong Kong. After a week of mind-numbing seminars and corporate speakers, the bank's organisers had taken the young women out to a countryside retreat. Within the 7-day conference, they networked through copious amounts of hiking tours, cooking classes, self-defence and nature tours - all based around the Ocean Park Marriott Resort.

On the fourth day, the organisers had told the girls, a splintered gathering of twenty out of a hundred women from international universities, to file into a gym where a disturbing splay of bike parts dotted multiple quadrants.

Then, drawing lots, the girls split into four teams.

The goal, explained the organiser, was for the girls to work together to assemble the bikes.

The winning team received a 1000 USD spa voucher for the Park Regent’s upper floor sauna, enough for all five team members to receive the full treatment.

Number two received buffet vouchers for the seafood feast, valued at 250 USD.

Number three and four received a pat on the back.

Not so gifted at bike-assembly, but gung-ho for spa treatments, the girls were all fired up. Gwen, of course, had assumed natural command of her bartering team and had just managed to hog about half the number of wheels when the organiser brought in a local boy looking decidedly miserable compared to the sea of pastel blouses.

“Mr Ning says that there’s going to be bikes donated to our orphanage," the boy informed the company of sweaty young women busy at work with spanners.

SHIT! Gwen spewed when she realised the whole point of the exercise was applied ethics. The didactic trial was for the promotion of teamwork in a manner that moved individuals away from a mentality of individual gain toward synergy value, prioritising the welfare of the children who were waiting for their bikes: especially bikes not missing parts because someone was desperate for a spa ticket.

In hindsight, it was a rather blatant attempt at force-feeding ambitious young women a ladle of chicken soup for the soul.

Not to mention the orphan HSBC had picked out was cute as a button, instantly slaying half the young women in the room.

Afterwards, the assemblage had all gone to the orphanage and donated individually to the organisation, which was then matched dollar for dollar by HSBC. A little photo-op was had, and the kids, the businesswomen and their bikes all made it into the local paper, as well as on HSBC's social media. Gwen and a few of the comelier girls also made the cover of HSBC's in-house magazine.

Principally, the takeaway was as follows:

The contestants gained a spa Groupon and feel-good memories.
The kids received donations and half-a-dozen K-Mart bikes.
HSBC gained good-will and good optics.

Win - Win - Win.

That's how the game was played.

“And that’s how it is,” Gwen informed the others.

Lulan and Jinwei looked at Gwen as though she was the strategist Zhuge Kongming reborn.

Richard gave their opponents across the oval a cursory glance.

“Okay, we’ll play it your way,” he apprised his over-imaginative cousin.

In Gwen's words, the whole thing was a mind-fuckery experiment to see if people are willing to work together or if they’re keen to succeed selfishly at the cost of the overall objective. As with any corporate group activity, the test was to see how people react when situational duress met underlying personality. Usually, unless an employee demonstrated destructive, spectacular failure, there was no right or wrong thing to do. Presumably, the Dean was interested in seeing which of the students possessed leadership and follower-ship, and who had the tendency of being an asshole.

Teamwork and cohesion, Dean Luo had reiterated, were equal to Spellcraft, as arguably, all the teams possessed relatively similar tiers of Magic.

Which, according to Bai, was minotaur shit. Progenitor colleges like Oxford and Cambridge undeniably possessed an unbridgeable advantage in terms of Spellcraft knowledge. Analogically, Gwen supposed, it was like competing against European countries in the Winter Olympics as a Jamaican Bobsled team. If Fudan couldn’t get its teamwork together, it may as well save itself the shame.

“Great, help me arrange everything first, take the parts that we have, and lay it out on the diagram,” Gwen entreated her companions before approaching the corner boundary where all four teams bisected.

“Ladies, gents, a moment of your time?” Her Illusion-powered holler echoed across the oval.

The splintered parties gathered, leaving all but two individuals to wander.

Kitty’s aloofness came as no surprise, though the fact that Karie, their Diviner, also stood apart was a sign of troubles to come. Did the woman think her position was unassailable? Gwen frowned. If she recalled correctly from her notes, the Mok family was a well-to-do merchant House like the Wangs. What had the woman hoped to gain by putting on airs?

“I have the blueprints and the assembly instruction.” Gwen waved the paper back and forth. “Let’s facilitate a trade agreement to make this hassle-free. I am going to give everyone the first page with the parts and numbers list. Lay out your quadrant's components like what Richard and Lulan are doing, place surplus parts onto the left margin and your core-components in the middle. After that, we'll do the old' swap meet!”

With a mote of Void, she cleanly sliced the booklets' bindings, then portioned out the first two pages, a double-spread diagram.

The others regarded one another. Was the scheming Void Sorceress trying to trade them the manual page by page? What deviousness!

“Senior Bai,” Gwen implored sweetly. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Bai nodded, not understanding her game but comprehending her goal. “Chen, Gigi, Tai. Do as she says.”

“Yessir.” The others obliged. There was no point refuting Senior Bai, who was the most experienced individual, and whose Clan was famed for its precepts of righteousness and piety.

“Alright, let’s see where this is going.” Lacking a clear leader and feeling jilted by their Diviner; Rene, Jiro and Eunae went about picking parts to bring to the borderline. Watching the diminutive Eunae rolling a length of pipe was entirely endearing, Gwen chuckled. Why was it that healers were all so cute?

In the final quadrant, Tsai and Miriam were commanded by Anita to do the same, joined momentarily by Kitty, who gave Gwen a dirty look.

“Karie,” Gwen called out to the Diviner. “Teamwork!”

The disdainful girl shot her a wilting look of disapproval.

Maybe she’s on the rag, Gwen accounted for the Diviner’s hostility, she couldn't imagine why Karie Mok was so hostile.

It took about ten minutes for the groups to arrange their pieces.

“Would anyone like to start?” Gwen raised her extra three copies of the instruction manual.

“Sure: I'll give you a core, a left-ventricle tubing, and the transformer actuator for all three copies of the manual,” Senior Bai offered with a glint in his eye.

“Ha! No can do. One-copy per team,” Bai's counterpart snickered. “Richard, what else we got?”

Richard read out a list of surplus parts which he had deduced after Gwen's counter-intuitive purpose.

“Cheers, Dick. Senior Bai, we'll trade you a right-ventricle seal, an exhaust gasket and a filtration panel.” Richard pointed to the parts, demonstrating a sharp eye for puzzles.

“But…” Bai gazed at Gwen’s quadrant, then back again, confused by the offer. From what he could see, Gwen was trading out parts she required herself.

“Lulu.” Richard passed a second list over to Lulan. “Go and trade for these with group 3. Jinwei, go trade for these with group 4. Bring back the parts and put them all into the surplus pile.”

“Senior Bai.” Gwen smirked at the perplexed Clanner, her eyes forming two smiling half-moons. “You said you would trust me.”

“Because we’re on the same team?”

“Yep," the girl elegantly inclined her head. "Isn't that what teamwork is all about?"

Dean Luo realised the jig was up as soon as Gwen’s group traded away their share of essential components.

A wave of disappointment and dejection washed over the Dean, who had prepared a speech.

Despite what appeared to be the total sum of parts that made up four filtration systems, he had laid out only three full systems, while the fourth was a different model with similar parts, serving no purpose other than to confuse. In their scramble to chaotically barter for the necessary components, the contestants would first create bad blood by having the group with access to the instruction manuals trade for essentials, ensuring individual success. As a direct result, at least one group would realise that irrevocably, having given away an essential part, they had been duped. The remaining three may then become the target of sabotage, as the only way to avoid disqualification is to ensure that at least one other team failed, or reached a stalemate.

Furthermore, as a result of unplanned, chaotic bartering, confusion would arise, resulting in a scenario where blame and praise would further decay teamwork. Historically, Luo recalled that when Jiantong had utilised a similar exercise, the winner had memorised the manuals, then bartered all four away for multiple core components to two teams, leaving one to be utterly exploited, thereby completely demolishing their competitor’s chances. For the two surviving teams, an embittered process had caused tempers to flare, exposing the best and worst of the contestants.

What Gwen was now doing was thus unprecedented.
The girl was facilitating exchanges to benefit her opponents.

Had she figured out the rules of the contest? The Dean mulled unpleasantly. It was highly improbable that anyone should know of his intent in advance. He had been subtle in his phrasing, not to mention every other contestant had exactly reacted as Luo had anticipated.

With Gwen's approach, rather than losing points for self-preservation, aggression, or subversive actions, Gwen and her team were gaining points for cooperation with every item exchanged even as the remaining three teams did their best to undermine one another’s chances at completing their device first. The devious thing, Dean noticed, was that Gwen's team had no point-deductions at all.

A win via win-win? The Dean grunted. Was the girl trying to exercise the ethos of the Middle Path?

“DONE!” Bai Tei stepped back from the completed filtration unit. “We’re first!”

“Well done!” Gwen clapped from across the dividing line.

Bai's team exhaled collectively. Even toward the end, Gwen had no tricks up her sleeve, like forcing them to offer up their almost-completed filter.

“I don’t get it.” Bai gathered his team behind him. “What’s in it for you?”

The girl smiled secretly as Richard, Lulan and Jinwei parcelled out the last of their useful parts to teams 3 and 4. By now, Gwen's quadrant was full of unusable trash which Dean Luo had conjured for the express purpose of inciting conflict.

The remaining two teams, consisting of Kitty’s and Karie’s, fell into a stalemate. Each held the parts the other desired and was thus refusing to trade.

Gwen wanted to call out that if they were to exchange components until the final piece, it could come down to sudden death. That would be a fair and square measure of luck and skill, and it would ensure two more filters were completed.

“TIME’S UP!” The Dean returned to the oval, happy that his ploy wasn’t a complete failure. “Gather up!”

The groups again converged, forming two lines.

“I have good news and bad news.” The Dean inspected the lonesome filter.

The gathering of students stiffened.

“As stated, the goal of this exercise, your primary objective, is for your group, and that means all of you, to reconstruct the filters as soon as possible.”

Karie’s party, consisting of Rene, Jiro and Eunae, blinked as they exchanged hostile glances with Kitty’s party, consisting of Miriam, Anita and Tsai.
Senior Bai cast a curious glance at Gwen, who looked entirely at ease for a group that had not attempted a single filter.

“Likewise, this is an exercise for us, the examiners, to observe your ability to lead, follow and achieve Quest objectives, as well as to demonstrate creative thinking, problem-solving, negotiation and conflict resolution.”

The Dean gave the failed groups a wilting glare, ignoring the smiling Gwen.

“If this was the IIUC, then you'd all be back on the ship tomorrow. You have already lost the Match for Fudan.”

Silence reigned.

“The origin of this exercise harkens back to 1993,” the Dean continued. “The objective for the second round of the IIUC, set in Inner Mongolia, was the restoration of the Frontier District’s drinking supply. However, the shipment of filter parts had been waylaid by Centaur hordes, resulting in less than six functioning arrays. For this Quest, Fudan had been pitted against Tsinghua and Tokyo U. Having collected core components in their first foray, our friends from Japan managed to reconstruct two filtration systems within their assigned District. As for our parties, they managed one unit each, both as a result of having lost parts to a spell scuffle and having failed at bartering with Tokyo U for the necessary components. For this reason, Tokyo U managed 678 CCs, disqualifying our measly 320 CCs.”

“In hindsight, the primary purpose of the exercise was the preservation of the Districts, which was impossible without planar filtration for the supply of clean drinking water. Within the ruling, any action significantly contributing to your primary objective was awarded CCs. Had a team aided in the reconstruction of all six units, their CC count would have exceeded 600, excluding time-completion bonus and kill counters!”

The other members slowly turned their eyes toward Gwen, some worshipful, others suspicious and hostile.

“Therefore!” the Dean barked. “Let this exercise be a lesson in myopia! Let not your desire to win, to reign over others, cloud your judgement! Always keep your eyes on the true objective of the quest. Think critically! That is the purpose and method of the IIUC!”

“That’s horse shit,” Karie, the Diviner, mumbled under her breath.
A few of the others, mostly Clanners, agreed.

The Dean ignored them.

“Gwen,” he called out to his dearest troublemaker. “Bai as well, I want to talk to the both of you. As for the rest - dismissed! Results will be out by Monday.”

“Gwen, thanks.” Senior Bai gave his junior a thumbs up.

“Shall we?” Gwen stepped aside as to follow her Senior. Along the way, she glanced at Kitty, who stood dejected and shaking, then followed the Dean as to escape the humid heat of the field for the cool interior of his office.