"Try adding a spin," Gwen instructed her companion.

Lulan grimaced with concentration, then let loose her projectile.

"Thrust!"

A slab of iron 'wooshed' through the air, spinning and swirling until it made a terrific 'CLANG!' against the Force Barrier.

"No, not like that- here." Gwen closed her eyes and concentrated, then materialised the thing she had in mind. "Minor Image!"

A jagged pie-chart materialised, mimicking a saw-blade.

"That's a whole other sort of magic." Richard tossed in his two-cents from the sideline. "I can do it with Lea's help, but I don't think it's possible for a Sword Mage. Lulu, watch Lea."

The petite form of Richard's Undine lifted a hand into the air, then made a sphere. Gradually, the orb began to spin until it flattened into a disk-shaped object.

"That's it!" Gwen clapped. "That's what I wanted."

"It's not a sword." Lulan studied the spinning 'disk' with evident frustration. "I can only do Swords."

"It's a sword spinning REALLY FAST." Gwen looked toward Richard for advice. "Clanner-magic's not that rigid, is it?"

"I think its best if we teach her with Western Spellcraft," Richard observed.

"Let's try this again," Gwen informed her companions. "Shield!"

A double-glazed semi-sphere Shield materialised.

"Give me your best attack! Add a SPIN!"

"Slash!" Lulan's face grew flush with effort as an enormous blade, almost the height of her whole body, descended onto Gwen's Shield after making several rotations.

'CRACK!'

The entire frontal quarter of Gwen's Shield turned white as the mana compressed. In the next moment, with great expedition, her barrier returned to its usual transparency.

"It's too hard!" Lulan growled.

"Nah, you are getting stronger," Richard assured his party member. "Gwen just has a little too much mana to spare, don't worry."

"Lulu, give me an 'Impale'." Gwen took a deep breath and readied a receiving stance. She manipulated her Minor Illusion to show a cone rotating on its centre-line. "Try adding a spin like so! Like a drill!"

Lulan wounded up a straight; her face grew red with concentration.

"IMPALE!"

A slab of gleaming iron materialised, then accelerated forward suddenly, it corkscrewed a few times, then drifted slightly off-course.

'THUNK!'

The better half of Gwen's Shield turned opaque as she slid back about a meter. Had she not been ready for the immense impact, she would have been knocked over. Earlier, when they sparred, Lulan had kicked her through the air like a billiard ball, sending her bouncing all over the training hall.

"I think the spear-point is Lulu's best attack, to be honest," Richard remarked. If anything, he could parry the sweeps and slashes, but there was little his water could do to against a head-on collision.

Gwen meanwhile, struggled to recall what little physics she had learned. For Void magic, an element that did not exist in her world, she had no idea how to apply her scant recollection of Senior Physics. For Lightning, however, she had some idea of how her self-generated electricity could empower future technological phenomena, though that would have to wait for a time when she could avoid being burned at the stakes for witchcraft.

As for Lulan's giant roving slabs of iron girders, she was sure that there had to be a better way to utilise the girl's ability to summon construction material.

For a while now, they'd been thinking of a way to improve Lulan's Sword-spells. Lulan's basic skills had been honed to a razor edge, but, lacking support from Huashan, she wasn't getting any new tricks, as the saying goes.

If so, Gwen wanted her companion to develop something awe-inspiring, something that would blow the examiners, and ideally their competitors, away.

Considering the brutal-physics of Lulan's attacks, Gwen had racked her brain for something that could drastically improve the girl's offensive potential. At first, she had imagined Lulan's 'Slash!' and 'Impale!' as tree-lopping, lacking finesse but high on destructive-momentum. Then thinking of arboreal professionals, she recalled hiring a pruner to cut down a half-dead gumtree in her backyard. That particular memory had then elicited the notion of a chain-saw.

Naturally, Lulan couldn't summon a chainsaw.

But what about spinning saw-blades?

Just thinking about the scene gave her the shivers. What would a creature or a Mage think when a free-floating angle-grinder spinning at 2400 RPMs descended from above?

The chances of Lulan learning higher-tier magic like the vibrating blade the Elder had used was nil. If so, why not set Lulu on a new path of Spellcraft, one that combined Gwen's knowledge of physics and Lulu's penchant for armed metallurgy?

Take the saw for example - Gwen was sure her Shield, or any barrier for that matter, would be decimated by a spinning, 24-tooth saw.

Failing that, how about a rotating 'shell' of metal 'fired' from the Elemental Plane of Earth? Didn't Wikipedia say that the old smooth-bore rifles could only manage 40 odd meters, while the simple addition of a rifling groove made the same weapon shoot over 400 meters with unerring accuracy?

If so, Gwen hypothesised - could Lulan become a skirt-wearing 88mm tank gun? What if people mistook her as a Melee Mage - only to cop a 15-kilogram solid-slug projectile to the face?

She had learned enough from Spellshaping to know that such a thing was entirely possible - after all, basic Earthen Evocations like Catapult and Stone Lance followed the same principles, only their designers lacked the aerodynamic knowledge necessary for ballistics.

"Are we done?" Richard mopped the sweat from his body with a flick of his wrist. "Got fifteen minutes till the party."

"Yeppers." Gwen moved to change out of her exercise clothes. No one wanted to attend a tea party smelling like sweat. "Come on, Lulu, you change too."

“Gānbēi!”
“Gānbēi!”
“Cheers!”
“Gānbēi!”
“Cheers!”
"Thanks, everyone!"

Teacups, wine glasses and beer bottles clinked.

Since summer in Shanghai was intolerable, it was only between March to May that alfresco cafe sprouted like spring flowers across Gouding and University Road. Taking advantage of the temperate weather, Gwen had organised a final get-together at a floral Eden called 'Birds-sing and Flowers-fragrant' to catch up before the IIUC selection.

On the family front, Richard and Petra, Mina and Tao chatted across the long table beside Gwen’s usual companions, Lulan and Kusu, who occupied the middle. To her right, her workmates Dai and Ken accompanied the timid figures of Lily, Pu and Jon, who huddled on the far side, too tongue-tied to speak.

“I wonder where Mayuree’s gone,” Gwen declared to Petra and Lulan. “Kitty too, strange that they’re not here. No one's answering either.”

Richard shrugged.
Petra affirmed that she hadn't seen Mayuree for at least a few days.

“Sorry, I am late!”

Gwen looked up, surprised to find that it was Marong who had come in the Diviner's place.

“Marong! A pleasure.” She extended a hand. “Here, take a seat! Where’s Mia?”

“She’s gone back to the home country for a while,” Marong explained. “Urgent family business. She’s asked me to come and see you in person to offer an apology.”

“No worries.” Gwen gave the man her best smile. “Please, don't stand on ceremony, we're all old friends here.”

Betraying her projected ease, Gwen felt strangely haunted by Mia's uninformed absence. It was queer that she didn’t leave her a Message. For so long, almost a year, Mia had been a constant companion by her side whether Gwen willed or no, and now her company, and Lei's meals, suddenly ceased.

"I think that's everyone." Gwen gestured for the NoM waiter. "Six Afternoon Delux sets."

"At once, Mistress."

Turning back to the table, Gwen re-introduced her cadre of friends, family and acquaintances to one another, thanking them for coming to her luncheon on such short notice. The whole ordeal had been spontaneous, she explained: she had fancied a proper afternoon tea after tasting Walken’s scones, then serendipitously, a group luncheon resulted.

“Stop, you're making me self-conscious.” Dai and Ken laughed when Gwen told everyone that they were the eldest of the bunch. Ken especially appeared awkwardly out of place with his suit and tie. “We’re old men compared to you folks, but we're young at heart.”

The table resounded with mirth.

The truth was that Lulan was the youngest of them all: she had turned seventeen in November, followed by Gwen, who would finally hit the big one-eight in May. Richard was already twenty and would finish his accelerated three-year degree at the ripe old age of twenty-two, the same as Kusu, who had joined Fudan a little later. Dai had his birthday in late February after a private party which Gwen had declined to attend, while the oldest was Ken, who confessed to being twenty-six.

“There’s another wunderkind here?” Ken indicated Lulan, sceptical that he could be ten years the girl’s senior. “I see why you booked a tea house.”

“Last time, Gwen took Lulu to a bar…” Kusu confronted Gwen accusingly. “Lulu came home raving like a lunatic, soaking from head to toe in sick.”

“Hahaha…”
“Haha…”
"A cute thing like you, Miss Li? That had to be a sight!"

“Ow!”

Lulan pinched her brother.

“So, any plans for your eighteenth?” Dai took the opportunity to put forward a plan he’d been fermenting for some time. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing planned.”

“Well, depending on the Selection…”

“Nonsense!” Dai interjected. “Why would you of all people have any problems with the April round? What are they going to do? Hire the other dual-element Void sorceress Fudan has lying around?”

“I shouldn’t underestimate-”

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“Nor should you overestimate their selection criterion,” the boisterous young man assured his teenage employer. “Father is vouching for you. Dean Lou is vouching for you. Your family, I assume, is vouching for you. I don’t even think you need to attend the interview, to be honest. There's going to be blood on the Dean's carpet if they reject you.”

Listening to Dai's audacious claim, Lily, Pu and Jon immediately re-calculated what they thought they knew about their long-time classmate: anyone else being so obnoxious would be vexatious - but this was the Princeling of the Fung Clan!

“I am more concerned about Lu,” Dai snorted. “You remember Lu? He's Wanli's owner. He aspired to join as well, but you’ve filled his niche and then some.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Gwen offered her condolences. She then turned to Marong. “What about Kitty? Is she going to be a part of the trials?”

“I dare say she will,” Marong assured Kitty’s least favourite neighbour. “She’s in seclusion right now to wrap up her final training.”

“She is?” Gwen cocked her head. “I saw her just last week!”

“With Mia absent, she's gone with the wind.” Marong shot her a waning smile. “You know how she is.”

Which was true, Gwen had to admit. Kitty had no love for herself nor Marong. With Mayuree gone, nothing was keeping her at Gouding B1. With a week to go, going into seclusion for that final push may be just the thing.

Soon, servers arrived with tiers of delightful petit-fours, scones and jam, fresh fruits from the Wildlands, and daintily cut sandwiches in alternating flavours of cucumber and rabbit-terrine. After working her way through a double serving of pastries, Gwen turned her attention to her cousins.

“Tao, did you ever get your new single off the ground? Was my editing any help?”

“Aww yeah.” Tao gave her a cool nod of acknowledgement, making a 'W' with one hand. “Yo lyrical flow got my juices flowing, Gee. Dem sick beats kicking up ill rhymes, yo lambs be helpful, Gwennabitch.”

“Iambic meter,” Gwen corrected her cousin, wondering what the hell her Ioun Stone was doing to translate Tao so well. Tao was under the impression that her analogy had been about lambs bleating in two-beat syllables.

“Shaaa!” A cry emanated from under the table.

“Woa! Cali-bitch, you back fo mo?”

“Peaches, language…” Mina groaned. Why did Tao persist in making every gathering a place for social suicide?

“Shaaa!”

Her family was used to Tao's befouled linguistic antics, but Gwen's other friends couldn't help but stare. 'Cali-bitch?' 'Gwennabitch?' what were these words coming out of the man's mouth?

“EEEE!”

“I got Ariel covered!” Lily declared from her end of the table. Gwen's Conjuration crew of Fudan's 'normies' had taken up with Ariel to absolve the need for awkward conversation with the strange and haughty folks sitting opposite.

“Sorry Lil, thanks for looking after Ariel.” Gwen flashed an appreciative grin. With her hands, she drew the audience' attention. “Lulu, you recall Lil. Right? You guys met last time we had dinner, about a month ago.”

“Greetings.” Lulan nodded, though it was clear her memory was fuzzy. "I do remember you."

“Hello,” Lily inclined her head. She vaguely recalled Lulan. "I think we met."

“…”

“…”

The two girls stared at one another.

“My father was recently promoted to the Chief Superintendent of Jiading,” Lily stated, switching to a universal ice-break the Guan-er-dai used to pass the time - speaking to each other by talking about their families. "How're things at Huashan?"

“My Shifu is dead, and I am excommunicated. Were it not for Gwen, I would be homeless,” Lulan explained carefully.

"... right. How about you, Tao?” Lily shifted her conversation to the other side, hoping their parents were alive, hale and well-connected.

“Mah old man? He’s Bao Wang, the biggest dawg in town. My fam owns Wang Group Enterprises, ho.”

“Peaches!” Mina scolded her brother. “What did father say about bragging? Sorry, Lily, Peaches is a fruit.”

“This bitch was the one who asked! Ow! Why are you slapping me, fool?”

“…” Lily sipped her tea. Was anyone here a 'normal' person? She was beginning to be very thankful of Pu's advice that they should NOT look Gwen up for Questing and adventuring.

“So, what courses are you guys doing?” Kusu suddenly cut in. The whole ordeal was much too painful to watch.

“Conjuration.”
“Evocation.”
“Wow, that’s great; I am doing a mix of first and second-year courses right now..”
“Cool, who’s your Lecturer?”
"Birch, Lee, Griggs, and Wu, you?"
“Which university are you attending Mina?”
“I am studying at a vocational Hospital.”
“Wow, you’re from the Wang family, and you’re still working?”
“Dad says we all need a trade, so…”
“That’s an admirable attitude!”

Good work, Kusu. Gwen applauded Lulan’s brother. The young man was level-headed and for a Clanner, possessed an admirable temperament. Once they were out of university, she was sure that there would be a place for Kusu in her organisation. Lulan might be the superior Mage by far, but Kusu was talented in other ways Lulan couldn’t begin to match. In her eyes, the man had the making of a Majordomo.

With the further side of the table finally talking, Gwen returned to Dai.

“You never gave me an answer,” Dai implored. “Well?”

“Are you going to organise one for me?” Gwen could read Dai’s face like a book.

“Well, you’re my boss, and my...” Dai coughed, suddenly sensing a chill.

The rest of the table perked up.

Mina's expression darkened.
Giving her cousin the A-okay, Gwen turned to Dai with a bone-tingling smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweet prince." Her luscious lips kissed the air. “We’ll be friends and colleagues, always.”

The others collectively winced.

Having delivered the Friend-Zone kiss of death, Gwen relented.

“A party sounds like a good idea.” She patted Dai on the shoulder before turning to Marong. “Is Mayuree going to be back in May? That's May 25th.”

“I sure hope so, if nothing goes awry.” The Diviner’s brother chuckled along with the rest. “You’re welcome to use one of our establishments if you like.”

“Or one of our hotels!” Tao counter-offered. “Father will clear the whole grand ballroom of Park Hyatt on the Bund if it’s for you.”

“No problems there,” Mina confirmed. “I’ll speak to dad. How big are you thinking? Two hundred guests?”

“I was thinking of something a little less public…” Gwen baulked. Two hundred? Was she going to invite her whole university cohort? “Just family and friends, you know?”

“Not possible!” Dai bolted upright, brimming with anticipation. “It’s your eighteenth! You’re one of the instrumental members of the Nantong Tonglv Committee! A teenage prodigy and soon to be selected for the IIUC! You’ve never come out, right? No one in our high-society circles has seen you in the flesh! That has to change!”

“Dai’s right,” Richard remarked expertly. “A society-gathering is a great opportunity to gain some ‘Guan-xi’. Perhaps you can do a demonstration to spread the news of your prowess to our future competitors. They have their IIUC selection right about now as well. Remember what Walken said.”

Ergh - Gwen's head swelled to twice its usual size. She caught Petra looking and realised her cousin was right yet again.

Why did she always make herself suffer?

"Don't hurt yourself." Magister Lee loomed over Gwen and her Death Worm. "Though I am happy you are making progress, that was a close call."

Week 9's workshop took place in the lower campus, in a place unceremoniously called 'Spellcraft laboratory No. 5', an open-plan arrangement spanning the space of several classrooms, divided via single-pane Force Barriers. Due to its limited capacity to house individual students, the Spellshaping cohort had split into morning, afternoon and evening sessions, with twenty-odd students attending each of Michio Lee's lessons.

Just now, Gwen's Void-spell misfired, sending a splutter of Void-matter into the range.

"I am still trying to stabilise the spell." Gwen pointed to a white-board filled with arcane Glyphs and incantations. "Though Void is unstable by nature."

The spell she was trying to create was an original Invocation of her own making. Though Walken had given her innumerable advice, her 1001 puzzle assortment of Major and Minor Incantations was proving to be a significant cerebral challenge.

"Start from the beginning." Magister Lee conjured a saddle-chair. With his broad chest and well-muscled arms, the man cut a dashing figure anywhere, even on a faux-saddle. "Explain your rationale."

Gwen cleared her throat.

"As you would know, Sir, the quality of Void as an offensive element lies in its ability to 'disappear' materials. Motes expend themselves to 'absorb' anything it touches. In work carried out with Magister Wen, we rationalised this as the Void 'consuming' matter by diminishing itself to send its target into the Quasi-Elemental Plane of the Void itself."

"My current staple is Void Bolt, or black-lightning; a spell which conjures a mass of Void Matter to strike my enemies. More accurately, it should be called an unguided Void-missile which emerges from translocation point A, projected toward a predetermined direction. Compared to Lightning Bolt, it has significant travel time and can be dodged."

"Considering the limitation of expending Vitality, I wanted to create a spell that possessed the lethality of the Bolt but at a far lower cost - one that maximised the characteristics of Void."

"Very good - go on."

"In essence, I wanted to materialise a projectile form that is energy-efficient while generating maximum tactility."

"Proceed carefully this time."

"I can show you the tier 2 variation, Sir. Right now, I can't manage Homing or propulsion."

"That's fine."

Gwen focused her mind.

"Chakrum!"

The air hummed.

Had Lee been standing at eye-level, he would have missed the paper-thin ring that materialised half-a-meter in front of them. From an elevated angle, however, it was as though an 'O' shaped hole had formed in time-space, with the light at the ring's centre becoming distorted and warped.

"A combination of Evocation and Conjuration!" Lee observed. "Marvellous."

"It's the most efficient form-factor, Sir," Gwen explained. "The ring is spinning too, though you can't see it. That was as far as I managed. Next is propulsion, and ideally a homing function."

"Does it cut well?"

Gwen scrunched up a piece of paper and threw it at the ring. Soundlessly, the paper-ball fell into two sections. The smaller portion, trapped in the ring's midst was then reduced to powdery snow.

"Would you consider 'Chakrum!' anti-personnel or anti-creature?"

"Creature, Sir. 'Charkrum' is one-tenth the expenditure of a Void Bolt, at least so far. Once we factor in distance and other capabilities, I anticipate one-quarter."

"Excellent, well done!" Lee slapped her shoulder. "My recommendation would be a channel function to decrease or increase the diameter of the ring. Likewise, you could test if adding or decreasing revolutions impact efficacy of the spell. In the future, I would venture to say that what you may consider an alteration to Blade Barrier that could make the spell a Void Element staple! Likewise, imagine if you can create an offensive Shield that's a perimeter disk of Void-Matter, and co-currently activate it with a neutral Mana Shield, it would make a most excellent melee counter! A disk with a hollow core! Who'd have thought?"

Gwen wasn't about to tell the Magister that she came up with the idea after working with Lulan and thinking of Xena, Warrior Princess.

"After our examination in week 13, go to Fudan T2 at once and have your spell registered," Lee reminded her. "You haven't disappointed me, Gwen. High five?"

Observed by a dozen others, Gwen coyly gave her handsome Instructor a high and a low. Her draconic-strength however, ensured that both were thunderclaps, drawing ire from the girls as only she could.

"Wow, she certainly did leave in a hurry." Gwen glanced over the penthouse apartment where Mayuree's things remained here and there.

"She'll be back soon enough," Marong smoked on the lounge. Without his sister, he could puff as he pleased. "Too bad she took Lei with her."

"I miss Lei already." Gwen sighed. "So, you're living here alone?"

"I'll be gone next week." Marong gave her a strange smile. "You've been orphaned, Miss Song."

Gwen laughed until she caught the man's mirthless mien.

"Gwen." Marong exhaled, tipping his fag. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Sure, shoot."

"How do you feel about Mia?" Much to her dismay, Marong's expression grew strange and severe enough for Gwen to take a seat.

"Not... romantically, if that's what you mean," Gwen replied apprehensively. "I mean, girl-friends do slumber parties, and Mia does have a super-king bed, so..."

"How close are you guys, as... what's the word? Mates?"

Gwen smiled at the sound of Marong's attempted slang.

"Mia's a sister, I suppose. She's small and petite and cute and innocent, kind of reminds of another little sister I have. God, I miss her. Hell, I miss Mia already, and it's only been a week."

"A sister? Are you serious?"

"Do I look serious?" Gwen raised a brow.

"I suppose you do." Marong paused. "Thanks."

"Why, you feeling a little protective?" Gwen laughed. "I thought you loved bullying her. You're the big bad brother, right?"

"Hardly - did you know we're not direct-siblings?"

Gwen blinked. What did that mean?

"In the olden days, in the old country, before even the Great War in Europe, there was a King by the name of Thibaw Min, son of Mindon and the Priestess Mibaya, of the Royal Kingdom of Myăma. The King was a cruel and wicked man. Fearing succession from his young siblings, he slaughtered all of his half-brothers during his coronation, keeping alive only his half-sisters, whom he would wed to loyal ministers, or give as gifts to the aristocracy."

Marong's captive audience blinked, wondering why the Smoke Mage was waxing history midway through a conversation about Mayuree.

"The Britannic Mageocracy had little patience for indulging a small South East Asian nation's civil war, however, and it wasn't long before Thibaw Min capitulated, becoming a Protectorate of the Mageoracy and renamed Burma."

"Thibaw knew then that he had made a terrible mistake killing the most talented of his family members, whose talents were now lost to him. After the British introduced the Imperial Magical System, he expended a thousand year's collated wealth on hundreds of concubines, fathering countless children with talented abilities so that when the time came for the Kingdom to rise again, they would not be bereft of talent."

"So you and Mayuree are half-siblings?" Gwen inquired.

"Thibaw Min has been dead for half a century." Marong chuckled. "Mia and I are cousins, but our blood is a little more intimate."

"Like... Clanners?"

"Indeed." Marong nodded. "It's a complicated matter, but to summarise, we descend from a pair of half-sister Priestesses from the King's harem, who themselves were related to the old King."

"A harem!"

"Is that so surprising?"

"I suppose not..." Gwen forced her brows to lower. A person needs to be culturally sensitive. "So, is Mia a princess?"

"Without name, title, or country?" Marong scoffed. "Not to mention we are half-bloods, carrying maybe a quarter of Min's stock at best. No, Mia and I are not royalty, though there are those of us who are directly descended. We are... spares."

"Oh, er... Sorry." Gwen lowered her eyes, wondering if she had stepped on one of Marong's funny bones. Heir and spares, eh? That seemed to be the way any royalty functioned, look at Will and Harry. "Look, I don't care about that. Mia's an important friend and a sister; that's all that matters."

Marong did not dignify her with a response. It was as though all the words in the world had dried up.

After an awkward 'goodnight', Gwen left for her apartment.

Marong reached into his suit-pocket and extracted the recording crystal of a Vid-cast recorder. He dialled a Glyph into his Message Device.

"Maymaruya."

"Master Marong?"

"I have a testimonial I'd like to send to the Matriarch. Can you arrange it for delivery to Yangon?"

"At once, Young Master."

Marong closed his eyes and tried to picture the girl who had just left. She was so young, so fresh, and so inundated with the Tyrant's scent. Had he made the right choice or had he doomed himself and Mayuree? But that was a moot point now. Without his sister, his life would be Mu - nothing. And for Mayuree, something infinitely worse.


It took only six more days for the fated '/' Gwen had marked off on her calendar to become an 'X'.

As it was a Wednesday, she cleared her schedule of both classes and work, practised a few mock-interviews with Walken, filled herself up to her throat with Magus Kumiko’s summons, then joined the others for her afternoon appointment.

According to her Instructor's insider-information, unless she cock-up by boasting about the dubious nature of the Void, its hunger, and her many mental malignancies, her selection was assured. Additionally, a case for Lulan and Richard's inclusion should be put forward in the manner of a 'package deal'. If one had leverage, Walken remarked, then leverage away.

Nonetheless, the waiting room and the attention of two dozen others made Gwen ever more conscious of the expectations laid at her feet.

“I feel sick,” Gwen expressed a distinct desire to retire to the bathroom to practice Rodin's Thinker.

Petra, Richard, Lulan and Kusu gaped at their ventilating sorceress.

“It's the anticipation.” She tried to put her eccentricity into words. “I can't help thinking that something's going to go wrong."

“Once bitten, twice shy?" Richard pointed out. "You did fail some pretty important tests, I recall."

“The first was when I was ten.” Gwen retrieved her alter-ego’s memories. “I failed the first aptitude test and got placed into a public high school when I turned twelve.”

“You did?” Petra had never been privy to her cousin's true mediocrity.

“Now that I think about it, she tanked her PMAE too,” Richard appended the other’s knowledge of their almighty sorceress. “Did you manage to pass your AMAE?”

“I skipped it, remember?” Gwen grinned guiltily. “If I had gotten back to Australia, we would have continued onto Year 12 and then had our Advanced Magical Aptitude Exams in July.”

Her friends, particularly Lulan and Kusu, stared.

“Y-you’re not even a high-school graduate?” a gobsmacked Kusu stuttered. “You don't have a Higher-Education Magical Aptitude Certificate?”

“Ah-ha-ha…” Gwen cringed.

“Wow, that's impressive."

“Incredible!” Lulan gazed upon Gwen with awe. "I had Questing Credits, but you received an LCS scholarship without higher-education qualifications?"

The combined visage of the Flowers of Fudan was drawing attention from all over, though as usual, the ever-resourceful Mineral Enchanter had earlier set up a Privacy Ward.

"You enrolled younger than I did though," Gwen praised the youthful Lulan. "I mean-"

The corner of her eye caught a pale and lithe silhouette.

“KITTY!”

There was no mistaking it. Gwen could spot the pale-skinned pixie a mile away.

“I’ll bring her over.” She left the group before the others could react.

As she approached, Kitty seemed to drift further away. When she finally got to the other end of the hall, watched by the two dozen or so contestants scheduled for the first round of interviews, the girl was gone.

“That’s strange,” Gwen moped when she returned to her friends. “I think she’s avoiding me.”

“Well, you can be exceedingly bothersome,” Richard quipped. “Caliban sniffs and licks everything; you leak Dragon-fear without warning, Ariel zooms around the apartment, knocking down anything not bolted down, leaving a fine dusting of fur over every conceivable surface, including my cereal.”

“Hmmph! Sif!” Gwen pouted. "My babies are perfect!"

The others joined the jeering.

“At least you're not nervous anymore.” Richard cracked his knuckles. "Nor am I, to be honest. Walken's a good bloke to have around."

“I am scared,” Lulan confessed. Though Walken gave her a pep talk, she had little in the way of a true speciality. “What if I don’t make it, Gwen?”

“Oh, Lulu, you’ll be fine!” Gwen hugged the girl close to her chest, feeling her thudding heart jackhammer against Gwen’s own. “You did well against me in our sparring sessions. You’re kick-ass, okay?! Just wait till we find a Spirit for you and finish our Signature Spells. You'll be an unstoppable Panzerschreck!”

"Armour... scare?" Richard laughed at her Gwenism. "What?"

Between herself, Richard and Lulu, the three of them were making decent headway. Their current problem was the lack of sufficiently powerful propulsion. Lulan’s ‘sword draws’ materialised her blades as she spell-flurried, using the kinetic energy of her heavy-blades to crush or slice her targets. With an alteration to the original spell, it should be possible to exponentially increase the expulsion rate of Elemental Iron by reducing the weight and mass of her Conjure Blades through compression. Assuming it was possible to attain a projectile velocity of a large-bore gun, which Gwen recalled to be almost a thousand meters-per-second, they could then work on generating torque to stabilise Lulu’s shot. Unfortunately, as a half-assed physicist, Gwen could only half-guess as to the mysteries of conserving angular momentum, leaving facts to trial and error. Had she been forewarned of her interstellar adventure, she would have taken the subject for her HSC.

“Oi, I think one of us is up." Richard was the first to notice the Proctors standing at the door.

“GWEN SONG - S.I.D: 12598 S0203, are you present?” an announcer called out, his voice permeating the room.

“PRESENT!” a shrill voice answered. Gwen took a deep breath. "Wish me luck!"

"You won't need it," Richard scoffed. "Don't forget to give us a plug!"

“Gwen Song, S.I.D: 12598 S0203,” Gwen announced to the tribunal overlooking her selection.

The converted training hall had a lesser Cognisance in effect, materialising a stream of Quasi-Elemental Lightning as her boot-heels echoed through the enormous chamber. Observing her were four Adjudicators: one she knew, one she had seen prior, and two she did not. Chief among the gathered was the Dean, Jiang Luo, sitting beside the Chief Registrar, a lady-Magister called Clarine Lee. To her left was a Caucasian man she had never seen before. To her right, was another, a grey-haired Asian man with an austere appearance. These two had the bearing of Tower officials: presumably, one was from Pudong, and the other was a CCP Tower Mage.

“Miss Song, we welcome you to the 2004 IIUC selection interview. In the next few minutes, we will ask you for a demonstration, as well as answer a few questions. Should you wish to withdraw, you may do so at any time.”

The voice that spoke was shrill and sharp, belonging to the Registrar.

“Dean Luo and I will adjudicate, while Magister Eckermann and Wu will affirm or reject our decision. A majority of three out of four is needed to pass. Should our votes tie, you will be included as a reserve member.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Gwen straightened the hem of her cotton blouse. All in all, the scenario reminded her of the time she had to apply for a Citibank 'Young Women in Banking' Cadetship grant.

For this momentous occasion, she had taken great care to dress her team. Richard, thanks to his tall and athletic bearing, made for a natural model. With a healthy dash of gel to style his hair, an expensive jacket, boot-cut chinos and a pastel shirt, the young man was effortlessly cool. Lulu was a little more challenging, for the girl had a reputation and Gwen wanted the interviewers to see her as someone adorably in 'control' of her notable capacity for ultraviolence. After dragging the wide-eyed girl through half a dozen shops in K-11, she dressed the petite athlete in semi-formal belted shorts, knee-socks, booties, and a linen jacket in sunburst yellow. Kusu was, of course, confounded by Lulan’s new look, which to Gwen signalled a sign of success.

As for herself, she had a very particular appearance in mind. Considering the infamy of her worm-handling moniker and her reputation for sassing authority when confronted by her betters, her preference was for something ambivalently wedged between youthful exuberance and earnest industry. Her usually straight-brushed hair was thus left loose and comfortable, juxtaposing an upper body hidden demurely behind a neutral-toned long-sleeved blouse. For her lower body, she favoured full mobility with a pair of cargo shorts that showed off the entire length of her white legs, ending with a set of pumped steel-toes.

The style was minimalist, military, and urban-chic, clean in the extreme, but simultaneously aesthetic and pleasing. Gwen's only regret was that Petra wasn’t competing. If so, she could guarantee her cousin's selection on the Vid-cast ratings alone.

“Miss Song, why do you wish to participate in the IIUC?”

Walken had coached her on this topic already, and so Gwen channelled a mote of her Essence to fluff-up her confidence before attending to her viva voce.

“Lord Magisters - Dean, thank you for giving me the opportunity to be here. For your consideration, I would like to offer an official and a private rationale for my inclusion in Fudan’s IICU team. In the capacity of myself as a student of this austere tertiary institution, I would like to put myself forward for Fudan because the university has helped me in my time of need. When I arrived as a refugee from Sydney, terrified, helpless and confused, it was Fudan who offered me - a mere girl from the Frontier - an opportunity to study with the best Shanghai had to offer. For this reason, I wish to repay the Dean for his generosity and to show the world that Fudan is a first-class institution.”

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The observers took notes. The Dean beamed.

"Why do I want to join the IIUC? I fear my rationale is a selfish one. I desire a stage, one of of great influence. I am a Void Mage, and we all know that Void Mages are unstable, self-destructive, deranged and dangerous. This is simply not true. For me, the Quasi-element of Void is a tool - one via which I will exact a price on the Demi-humans who dare to invade our domain and slaughter our people! I will use the IIUC to prove to the world that Void Mages are not to be feared, but celebrated! That Mages like me will be the catalyst of a lasting peace! That one day, atop a Tower of my own making, Humanities' enemies will quake in its shadow and loathe the prospect of war!”

‘CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!’
‘Clap... Clap. Clap...’

Confused by the other's inaction, Gwen searched for the second source of ecstatic applause, finding Ellen clapping mirthlessly beside her boisterous Master.

The other three Adjudicators marked the Dean with unfriendly warnings before turning back to Gwen.

“Miss Song. What is your desired position?”

“Offensive Caster or Battlefield Controller, Lord Magister.”

"Very well - begin your presentation."

Gwen stepped back and took a deep breath. After careful deliberation with Walken, they had decided on one hell of a show and tell. For weeks she had been preparing a spell that would not only impress, but demonstrate her absolute control over the Void.

After raising both hands, she paused for drama.

“You may feel a slight discomfort.”

“Proceed.”

Gwen drew a finger through the air. A Glyph materialised, darker than black, gnawing into the fabric of space and time. Entwined with Almudj’s Essence, Void-matter flooded through her mana conduits, feeding into the modified Conjuration staple made timeless by Magi Morden.

With herself as the epicentre, a wave of Dragon-fear and vertigo radiated from Gwen’s body. Having anticipated her spell, the Dean was already channelling mana through his Astral Soul to offset the side-effects of Gwen’s creature-conjuration, snickering as his peers paled in unison.

As for the Dean's pet subject, she was now wreathed in midnight, visible only thanks to her viridescent irises casting a pale emerald glow across the Draconic-deerhounds slithering into being from a rift in space.

All were familiar with Morden’s Hounds. Most of them had seen the unique effects of Draconic-magic as well and arguably, at least two of them had seen Void Mages up close, but none had ever borne witness to the terrific visage that was the amalgamation of all three.

Dean Luo was the first to shake himself from the horrid sight of Void-tinged deerhounds. Activating a suite of diagnostic magic, he took an intimate gander at the alien creatures now paddling across the training hall’s floor.

Visually, the creatures were dogs - large ones at that, measuring a good two meters from head to toe, though the proportion of the animals appeared to possess more head than any other anatomy. That was the disconcerting thing: Void-clad in obsidian plates, about half of the hound consisted of a large, phallic-shaped head that ended with no face, but what presumably was the beginning and end of a meter long jaw. From between the slit, a viscous grey-goo oozed as the Void-beasts prowled, all seven of them.

“Caliban!”

The beasts' alpha slinked into being.

“Shaaaa!” The jet-black Death-worm screeched.

As one, the hounds stood to attention.

The Void Sorceress turned to face the judges, her complexion heart-breakingly pale, as fragile as white-jade porcelain.

“They obey every command,” Gwen explained, not a hint of exertion to her voice. “The hounds have also inherited the Elemental traits of Void-beings. In tests conducted with Magus Kumiko’s summoned creatures, they can recover from physical damage by consuming bio-mass. Furthermore, unless fully Banished or dispelled by Lightning, the creatures persist until their vitality is exhausted.”

“They also draw their constitution from your health; do they not?” Magister Eckermann, the grey-haired Tower Mage from Pudong, enquired with a conservative air.

“Yessir,” Gwen affirmed the Magister’s suspicions, though she did not append the Magister's enquiry with additional details.

“They are capable of pack-tactics?” the CCP Magister queried.

“Indeed.” She glanced at her dogs.

Immediately, her pack separated, each taking on a corner as if guarding the general perimeter.

“What of their prowess?” Registrar Lee continued the line of questioning.

“Exceedingly lethal,” Gwen stated without exaggeration. “They are yet to be battle tested in the field, though thanks to Magister Walken and Magus Kumiko’s generosity, the pack can dismantle a Tier 7 Bristle-back Hog without losses. I would say that against creatures below the giant-category, my deerhounds’ prowess remains… unmatched.”

“Very impressive,” Dean Luo spoke loud enough for the other’s to hear. “She has my vote.”

The others shuffled in their seats.

Registrar Lee glowered at the Dean.

“We're not supposed to inform you in person, Miss Song. But since the Dean is so adamant and your performance so extraordinary; I shall concur.” Registrar Lee raised her hand.

“I have no objection.”

“Neither have I.”

“Right.” Dean Luo beamed at his protege. “Gwen, congratulations. Second round trials will begin in Semester two, near the ides of June. We will be testing your teamwork. Assuming everything goes well, you’ll be looking to represent our institution!”

Gwen bowed deeply.

"As to that very matter, Dean, Sirs and Madams, may I have a minute of your time?"

"No-"

"Go ahead, Gwen."

The others remained silent.

"Sirs, Madam, you may know already, but my cousin Richard Huang and my companion Lulan Li are also keen to prove their mettle in the IIUC. We're a team, and together, we are all at our best. My cousin Richard and I came first in the Hengsha Island Dungeon even before we came to Fudan. As for Lulan, she has been Adventuring with Richard and myself, and we have managed to clear the Nantong Water-Ghost's lair without incident, going so far as to rescue a scion of the Fung Clan. Together, our complementary skills become multiplicative, greatly increasing our operational efficacy. If I am to be my very best in acting for Fudan, I wish to have my left and right arms by my side."

"..."

"I understand," the Dean assured her.

“Miss Song, you may leave now.” Registrar Lee insisted. "We will take your account into consideration."

“Thank you, Lord Magisters, Dean - Thank you for your guidance."

With that, she packed her creatures, then retreated to the exit.

Once outside, a dozen pairs of eyes converged on the eye-catching girl with the impossibly pale legs.

“Richard, cover me.” Gwen stalked across the floor, her boots striking staccato steps as she pushed past the crowd.

Very quickly, her friends surrounded her.

Gwen materialised a half-bottle of Maotai she had earlier purchased and chugged the rest in one go, exhaling a sweet scent of distilled sorghum as her vitality regenerated, returning a spot of colour to her cheeks.

“Do you think imbibing alcohol is considered cheating?” Gwen packed the bottle away. “Would it count as a potion?”

“Of course not.” Richard grinned wickedly. “If anyone else can afford it, or can slam it down as you do, they’re welcome to replicate our strategy.”

“I think they might ban it once the cat’s out of the bag,” Kusu warned her. “If you can convert the vitality from treasure-grade consumables like Maotai, wouldn’t that imply an unlimited capacity for Void?”

“First I’d have liver failure,” Gwen returned seriously. “My body's still stuck processing the booze. It’s not as though I am an alcohol-fuelled combustion engine.”

Kusu cocked his head.

“Nothing.” Gwen stifled a burp. “There it goes. Yeah, I don’t think Maotai is a long-term solution either. Maybe some of that Spiritual Ginseng…”

“Ask your Grandfather?” Richard implored.

“Naw, he’s saving for babulya and Percy,” Gwen replied sweetly. Though Guo could use a few extra years, he still wanted to reserve the best herbal ingredients for his wife and his grandson. To Gwen, that was an entirely respectable sentiment.

“Ask Jun?”

“And owe Ayxin? No thanks,” Gwen reflected sourly. She hadn’t seen the pair of them in forever. She wondered what they were doing - well, she could guess what they were doing. It was more so a question of Axyin popping out a litter of baby Ash Dragons. Rather than the proverbial Queen of Dragons, she could be 'Aunt' of Dragons.

“So, how did the whole thing go?” Lulan asked anxiously. "What should I expect?"

“Well.” Gwen cleared her head. “When you first walk in, you’re going to be hit by A LOT of diagnostic magic…”

“So, what do you think?” Dean Luo sat in his office, attended by his cosplaying Familiar.

The other three Magisters lounged comfortably in tub-chairs and sofas dotting the Dean’s Roaring Twenties' smoking room, recently renovated after a disastrous mishap involving a hysterical Ellen.

“The Void Sorceress' a shoo-in, I’d imagine.” Hans Eckermann, the Proctor for the Pudong Tower, sipped his coffee.

“Of course, if you dare deny her, Eckermann, I’ll fight you.” The Dean chuckled. “And her friends?”

“The Water Mage is an interesting character,” Magister Wu remarked after swallowing a mouthful of scalding tea. Unlike western variations, the green-tea from Fur-peak was best taken at its hottest and most fragrant.

Gingerly, Ellen flittered about, acting the attentive maid.

Magister Wu Gusong of the Shanghai Tower, more commonly known as the CCP Tower, regarded Dean Luo’s Dutch wife. He was aware of the theory that humanising one’s Spirits allowed them to attain higher tiers of Affinity and hastened their spiritualisation, though he’d rarely seen anyone bother with something as nebulous as clothing their Familiars. The latter, in Wu’s opinion, was an indication that Luo was a confessed sexual deviant.

“How so?” the Dean pursued the matter. “There’s no taking back a vote.”

“It’s his aspiration that I find strange.” Wu cocked his head, turning away from Ellen’s distracting visage. “Not an ounce of self-promotion, but an assurance that his presence will ensure Gwen Song will emerge victorious from the competition? That’s a first. One would have thought he was a foster-child of her House, not an expatriated student from Prince’s Frontier Scholarship program.”

“Did you read the report I attached?” Luo glanced at the others. “It's Richard Huang’s second-year proposal for the subjugation of the lower-Nantong delta’s remaining Demi-humans. He's been exterminating them with the Li girl, joined by a rag-tag team of local Mages.”

From their blank expressions, the answer was no.

“Ellen.” The Dean materialised a stack of reports. “Give these out.”

The others took a minute to read through the reports.

“Monstrous!” The Chief Registrar spat when she got to the recommendations segment. “I can see this working, but Mao…”

“Interesting, hmm?”

“I’d love to recruit him for the Grey Ghosts.” Magister Wu whistled. “I want to say he’s needlessly cruel, but you have to admit, it’ll work.”

“Is this boy the kind of influence we want on the girl?” Magister Eckermann pointed out what they’d all been thinking.

“Undoubtedly,” the Dean interjected. “You remember what Seoul U did to us last year? There’s a naivety in our young Mages, hand-reared by Clan and in a green-House, that must be offset by someone with a practical focus.”

“But Gwen Song was raised in Oceania, was she not? Why isn't she like this?”

“She's fair and of the gentler sex, perhaps?” the Dean alerted the others with a useless bit of information. “Stubborn and altruistic too. Not debilitating by any means, but it’s there. She won’t look kindly on the sort of length her cousin is willing to go. In my opinion, the two together make for a perfect balance between prim propaganda and pragmatic problem solver. She’ll give us good optics, I am sure. You've all seen her. The Vid-cast ratings will be phenomenal.”

Wu snorted.

“The last time we broadcasted the IIUC live…”

“...Was a disaster.” Dean Luo shook his head. “Don’t worry; I’ve got a good feeling about this year. If anything, I'll take responsibility.”

“Fine. What about the excommunicated Clanner?”

“I voted yes to offer Gwen Song more autonomy,” the Dean explained. “On a team of five, she could have operation authority if it’s three to two. Gwen can occupy dual-roles of Control and Offence, while Li can be an Offensive-interceptor. The cousin can likewise occupy dual-roles as mobile Defence and Battlefield Controller.”

“Agreed.” Eckermann made his opinion known. “Assuming this report is true. She's a fantastic soldier. What she lacks in talent, she makes up in enthusiasm. Did you see her Questing data? Two thousand and four hundred plus confirmed kills. She could be a career officer, at the very least a decorated NCO."

“I’ll agree for the sake of the Water Mage, not for your protégé,” Wu declared, glancing sideways at the Dean. “I want to see him in action. If he’s as good as I think he is, I want him enrolled in the Ghosts."

“You can try.” The Dean opened both hands. “I won’t stop you.”

Magister Wu ignored the Dean's quip and returned to sipping his tea.

“I guess my ‘nay’ vote doesn’t matter then,” Registrar Lee grumbled. “We’ll reconvene in June for the team selections.”

“Very well.” The Dean applauded himself. “Ellen, see the guests out, then go give Gwen and her friends the good news.”

“The announcement is one week from now, Sir,” Ellen, trained in processing simple paperwork and reading the calendar, informed her Master.

“Ah~, what’s the harm?”

“You have another thirty candidates to interview, Sir…” Registrar Lee frowned. “Please don’t play favourites. This is an important event for many of the students. Even a reserved position is a highly sought-after accolade.”

The Dean grumbled.

“Fine. Ellen, get me Walken.” He ignored the others. “Gentlemen, Elaine, we're done here.”


Gwen could hardly believe the first round of the Selection had come and gone like a sunshower. The announcement for the twenty-two candidates was posted by Saturday on the bulletin board just outside Guanghua Towers. Atop the list, perhaps at the Dean’s behest, was her name, below which Richard and Lulan’s names were buried.

While perusing the list, she also located the others.

Kitty Liang was among those chosen, as expected.
Lu Fung, Dai’s cousin, was also among that number.
Her senior, Tei Bai, was there as well, together with a few other well-known names from the Duelling Club.

As for the rest, she couldn’t put faces to the too-similar syllables. Just the last name Li appeared no less than four times on the list.

“Oh, thank the Chairman.” Lulan saluted in the general direction of the Crystal Tomb. “I see Senior Huang is up there as well, haha.”

“Good work, Lulu.” Gwen hugged her companion from behind. Lacking Mayuree’s presence, she was running out of things to snuggle. For all of Ariel’s wonders, human contact was nourishment for the soul. When the Lulan in her arms failed to respond; she followed the girl's eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Jinwei Li…” Richard followed Lulan's gaze as well. “Is that someone you know?”

“I think so.” Lulan exhaled, shivering a little. “I think that’s one of my seniors from the Clan.”

“So what?” She squeezed her cheeks. “Once we get some new magic happening, you’ll kick his ass.”

“I’ll work harder!” Lulan replied earnestly.

“If you’re anxious, we'll call in some outside help,” Gwen plagiarised Walken’s advice. “Let’s put in a CC request for a high-impact solid-projectile spell. Failing that, we can put in a request to learn that spell you told me. Currency makes the world go round, after all."

"Crystals can convince even ghosts to mill the rice." Richard borrowed an old Confucian observation.

“The Heart-piercing Sword.” Lulan nodded. “It’s a tier 6 spell that’s only taught to the inner-sect students.”

“I still can’t believe that’s the extent of your Sect’s spell-tiers.” Gwen grimaced. When Richard asked Kusu to produce a Spell-list, they were both surprised to find that the Huashan Sect had never converted the full extent of their ‘Sword-Path’ invocations to the Imperial Metric System.

“We’re an ancient Sect, but we’re poor,” Lulan lamented. “Huashan isn’t rich in resources or Magical Beasts, and all of our practitioners utilise the Iron-Heart Technique, so outsiders can’t use our spells.”

A Sect that has fallen behind in the economy of Spellcraft, Gwen mused privately. Their predicament was akin to a country still stuck bartering wood while the rest of the world had moved onto Petrol-bucks.

“Let’s get to it then.” She took Lulan by the arm. “I can pony up the CCs if you’re short. The earlier we get help, the sooner you'll be smashing faces.”

“I’ll be alright.” Lulan tore her eyes away from her cousin's name. “I haven’t spent a single CC in two years…”

"Ooo! There it goes!"

The sound of an excited squeal rang across the generous space of the Instructor-only training hall.

"The form is sustaining nicely." Walken tracked the floating ring as it sliced through the air soundlessly.

Ah~, the joy of creation, Gwen patted herself on the back.
Arguably, the dopamine hit from reaching a Spellcraft milestone was akin to succeeding in a business project, only-

"I say, it's coming back toward us," Walken remarked drily, clearing his throat.

Considering the limited range of the training hall, Gwen had designated the spell to curve as to avoid hitting the walls. Unfortunately, the disk of destruction appeared to be on a parabolic path back to its designer.

"Shit!" Gwen stood in front of Walken. "Caliban!"

"Shaa!"

Caliban leapt into the air as though the subject of a Crufts cosmic horror commercial and snapped at the dark band.

A section of the Chakram disappeared into the creature's maw, the rest of her disk, having lost its angular momentum, hurtled toward Gwen and her Instructor with murderous glee.

"Shield!"

A frontal Lightning Shield in a semi-sphere was just enough to catch the wildly spinning, half-eaten disk.

Holy shit! Gwen felt her back soak with cold sweat. She was sure she had seen something similar in the past where some self-tracking projectile ended up maiming its owner. The sense of déjà vu just now was intense!

"Perhaps a termination invocation should be built in," Walken announced drily. "We wouldn't want any surprises like that in the field."

Much like Lulan’s, Gwen’s Signature Spell had hit a snag.

Void Matter wasn’t like Lightning.
Despite the inexplicable rationale behind conjuring thundering plasma, Gwen's knowledge of electricity made her spells more or less a matter of common sense. For instance, in the case of her first-ever Lightning spell, Blast Bolt, all she had to do was designate two points, the resultant lightning then flowed between the two spatial tears into the Material world, saturating an area with Lichtenberg figures.

But for Void, she could only make a face and keep trying.
In a physical sense, Void-matter was akin to magnetised Ferrofluid in its viscosity. When left alone and kept sizzling on a plane of pure mana, Void-matter formed hydrophobic droplets of all-consuming anti-matter, hungrily skittering about, trying to find the slightest incline to escape.

When an invocation spell-shaped the fluid, it took on the elicited form. Lightning Grasp, for example, evoked a dangerous splutter of crackling dark lightning, while a dark gash of consuming energy formed the basis of Void Bolt. As for the thrice-damned Cloud Kill, her Void-matter manifested a fine-mist particle field. The latter, Gwen noted, was especially dangerous, corroding anything and everything, rapidly consuming her vitality on useless things like the air, soil, plants, and so on. Only in hyper-dense concentrations of biomass should she even consider activating the spell, not that she would wish such a grotesque agony upon anyone.

As for the optimal employment of the Void element, Sobel had the right idea: Void was an element almost tailormade for Conjured Creatures.

Nonetheless, she needed a Void-specific attack spell and Gwen was confident a 'Chakram' should work.

Lucy Lawless’ flawless multi-kills aside, there were perfect historical examples of Chakrams been used as early as the Delhi Sultanate. If her memory of the BBC Documentary served, records stated that these rings ‘cut through all’ and had a range of sixty to a hundred meters.

As for her current progress, functionality was prevented by the fact that when she ceased supplying mana to the spell, the ‘ring’ fell into a liquid state. At a range of just over twenty-meters, she would splash her target rather than cut it.

That's why to prevent structural collapse, she increased the rotational momentum and added a persistent ‘cache’ of mana to be used while the projectile remained in flight.

“So it’s a Frisbee,” she told herself. Or more accurately, an Aerobie. She recalled playing with one when she was a kid. On the packaging of Percy’s one time Boxing Day toy, it had boasted of holding the Guinness World Record for the longest throw of an object without velocity-aiding features, measuring at 400 or so meters. Unfortunately, she did not read the instruction’s small print - 'Aerobie does not float’.

Two throws at the beach and that was the end of Helena’s $19.99. Suffice it to say, Percy was heartbroken, and her mother had grown insufferable.

Maybe that's why the thing came back to her?

“You’ll have to keep experimenting with the incantation order.” Walken arranged and re-arranged her spell-stack into new variations while she checked her notes. “Give that a go.”

“I don't get why it doesn't do as its told,” Gwen grumbled. “Check this out, Lightning Chakram!”

A ring of blue-white plasma launched into the distance made a loop around her target, then fizzled as it returned to her.

“Cake-walk.”

“With your tier 6 Affinity and Ariel helping you spell-shape, why wouldn't it work?”

Gwen petted her pseudo-Kirin.

Ariel purred, its whole body vibrating.

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“You could have finished by now,” Walken remarked sardonically. “If you were to 'upgrade' Caliban.”

“Ah, but you forget.” Gwen gave her Instructor the stink eye. “I am a masochist.”

“Of course, my apologies.” Her Instructor amused himself at her expense. “Let me know how those combinations go.”

“Will do.” Gwen packed her indexes, manuals, primers, notebooks, data slates, assorted tea and biscuits. “See you tomorrow, Eric.”

“Hey Marong, does Mia have an ER Message Device in Yangon?”

Feeling strangely unsettled one morning, Gwen decided to shoot the Smoke Mage a Message before he returned to the old country.

“You’re joking, right?” The Message came back during breakfast. “All Divination Messages are routed through a Tower. We don’t have a Tower in Yangon - or Myăma for that matter. The closest Tower is in the Chengdu Frontier in China, over two thousand kilometres away.”

Gwen slapped her forehead.

“In that case, is there any way to contact her?”

“Send me a Message, I’ll relay it over, and when she sends you a Message, I’ll route it through Chengdu when I or someone from the trade consortium is there. We do have a brisk jade and gemstone trade with China, so expect a week’s turn-around.”

"Okay, will do, thanks Marong."

After Magus Young's Evocation lecture, she did precisely that.

“Mia, it’s me, Gwen. I hope you’re doing well in Yangon. How’s the old country, your home sweet home? Too bad you can’t send me pictures of the place, I’d love to meet your extended family one day. Before you ask, yes, Marong and I spoke about it, and I don't mind at all. In other news, I’ve been selected for the IIUC! It was a breeze. Richard and Lulu have been chosen as well. I am sure you know already that Kitty’s on the list as well, though she’s been avoiding me. Ariel and Cali are doing well, as is everyone else. If you run into trouble or if people bother you, let me know! Maybe I can do something, ask for a few favours, that sort of thing. Marong says you’ll be back in May. Don't forget the 25th! It'll be our second one! Can’t wait to see you again - Gwen.”

“Got it. It’s cute,” Marong's Message fired back. “I’ll leave in two days. Hopefully, she'll make it to your party.”

“Make sure she does!” Gwen warned the brother. "Or I am holding you responsible!"

Marong failed to reply, but she was confident Mia wouldn’t miss the birthday party, not when Dai wanted to make the spectacle equivalent to the first inauguration of the Gwen administration.

After a pleasant weekend spent with family, a new week began. Now deep into the academic term, practicals took precedence over theory.

Conjuration’s twin-modules: 'Advanced Translocation of Objects and Localised Effects' and 'Conjuration of Elemental Effects, Duration and Interactions' came to an end, with the remaining three weeks dedicated to tutorial workshops. With her Affinity and her VMI, Birch's benchmarks were passed without incident.

Conversely, Evocation required several degrees of additional effort. As the weaker of Gwen's two Schools of Magic, her finesses was, as Magus Young put it: 40% Ariel and only 60% herself.

“You’re too generalised,” Young observed critically, puckering her lips in thought. “I know you’re capable, Gwen, but you’re hardly going to match a Master Evoker at this rate. The weakness will show in the future when higher-tier magic becomes available to you. Your lack of specialisation will impact the efficacy of your support mandalas, especially when drawing multi-layer strategic-class invocations.”

Gwen felt a stab to her pride.

The Magister was right. Even with Walken chalking up incantation combinations and helping her with calculations, her limited knowledge hamstrung her progress.

“If you’re keen to make Signature Spells, take Deconstruction of Spell Theory for your second semester, then Critical Appraisal of Spell-Structure when you return from the IIUC next year,” Young recommended wholeheartedly. “For a future Tower Master, the ability to deconstruct and re-construct magic is expected. DST3040 re-hashes existing theory and breaks down the processes involved in the evolution of the Imperial Metric System. As for CAS4010, it’s taught by Magister Julian Fennen on loan from the Imperial College of London. He’s only in Fudan until his research concludes, so I’d hurry.”

Listening attentively, she took the headful of advice with humility, realising just how far she had to go. Thankfully, Magus Young’s critiques aside, she had achieved nothing but sterling results in her practicals.

Meanwhile, her bestiary course with Instructor Chen had been usurped by Walken. With Aella the winged serpent leading the way, Ariel’s ability as a Kirin-shaped all-weather, carrier-capable, multirole combatant transitioned from dog-paddling to dogfighting.

A little disconcertingly, perhaps because of their mutual Draconic-nature, or maybe because they both hailed from Australia, Ariel had grown attached to the rainbow-hued Couatl.

“Play-sparring is the best training.” Walken’s philosophy was unexpectedly lax. “To mature a Familiar like yours and mine, we need to constantly give them new experiences, fresh encounters, opportunities for them to think cognitively and develop their Ego.”

“Caliban can recognise NoMs now, I think,” Gwen informed her trainer. “It knows the meat-bun lady at Five-Mile Dumplings and the guy who sells Teatime Bubble Tea. Normally, it only recognises Mages.”

“It’s the mana signature,” Walken explained patiently. “Lacking eyes, I suspect your little monster has a sense-ability akin to the Death Worm, who can identify prey through the tremor of their footfalls. Do you feel Ariel has grown?”

“Eeee! Eee!” Ariel affirmed Walken's suggestion.

“Ariel, say Mama!”

“Eee! EE?!”

"Child! Child!" Aella was merciless in its superiority.

Ariel sulked.

“It could do with more Draconic-cores, I’d imagine." Walken studied the Kirin as it struggled to enunciate the simple words. "It took Aella about two decades to be able to form thoughts complex enough to communicate. Linguistics, unlike Empathic Link, is a hugely complex trait. It requires abstract reasoning found only in sapient creatures. With your Consume ability and that Conjure Familiar Henry constructed for you, I’d dare say…”

“Come on, Eric,” Gwen intervened. “Broken Vid-caster much?”

"I try." Walken shrugged.

“Anyway.” Gwen turned back to her creatures. “Cali seems to do okay with the dogs though, despite its simple-mindedness.”

“The pack-instinct comes from Morden’s Hounds,” Walken flatly denied any possibility of Caliban’s imminent ascension. “Caliban is top-dog, that’s all. Were you to lack a creature such as Caliban; the Bloodhound would fill in as the Alpha. Morden was a master since before the Victorians.”

“Too bad he’s long gone.”

“You’d think.” Walken smiled. “He has descendants still living in Scotland. They have their home at Inverness - an infamous bunch, in fact, notable for their dislike of the Britannic Mageocracy.”

“Truly? That's amazing.” Gwen felt seriously impressed by the longevity of Morden’s bloodline.

“I wonder what they think about a teenage girl-Mage selling improved variations of Morden’s spells.” Walken chuckled. “The House of Morden isn’t what it used to be, but in Scotland, their word carries weight.”

“Gunther took care of it.” Gwen grinned back at her Instructor, wondering if he was trying to frighten her. “I am just an incidental benefactor of my Master’s Estate.”

After her retort, Walken chose the wisdom of silence.

As for her lesser courses, Translocation and Utility Divination both progressed swimmingly. Thanks to peripheral improvements and some tricks of the trade, Gwen could now Dimension Door up to a maximum range of three hundred odd meters, pending her familiarity with the terrain. In total, she could DD up to six times in quick succession before she expelled her lunch. Additionally, if she were to apportion her DDs into twin-sets with three-second intervals for recuperation, she could manage ten consecutive casts.

If the time came again for a dine-and-dash like that time with uncle Jun, she was confident in her escape.

“That’s impressive.” Birch had applauded. “Even at the higher end of tier 7, I can manage five kilometres on a good day. Your accuracy, however, will improve with experience, or in your case, with the growth of your Divination. If you ever train up Ariel's scouting capabilities, you could increase your range yet again.”

Speaking of Divination, her practice with Arcane Sight, a spell that allowed her to detect invisible creatures and see through low-tier Illusions, was going well. As for her primary goal, the much-anticipated Link Sight, a few months of dedicated labour remained.

Finally, for her Gen-Ed subjects, her tutorials had gone relatively well. Feedback from Professor Ma was that her peers enjoyed her teaching style as well as her unique workshop questions. If all goes well and she successfully aided Ma in grading the two-hundred-odd papers by the end of Semester break, she would receive two perfect High-Distinctions.

What remained then was Spell-Shaping and Magister Michio Lee’s far too optimistic anticipation that a girl without a Higher Magical Aptitude Certificate was going to impress him with an original Void spell.

“Sorry, Sir- KITTY!” Gwen apologised to Wing Commander Dienhart before intercepting Mayuree’s bodyguard mid-air.

“Hey!” Gwen levelled off against the girl while they sped through the illusory obstacle course. “Congrats on passing the interview.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Kitty’s rejection came fast and hard, her voice sharp and full of icicles. The Dual-Element Mage suddenly banked, performed a corkscrew before threading through a loop.

Gritting her teeth, Gwen supplied more mana to the body-reinforcement spell taught by their Instructor to reduce the effect of sudden acceleration and deceleration. Focusing her mind, she followed Kitty’s manoeuvre, barely making it through the target ring.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen was faster on the straights because she could afford to burn her reserves. “You weren’t like this when Mia was around.”

“Will you shove off already?!” Kitty snapped, suddenly accelerating upward toward the next target.

Gwen overshot her trajectory and had to loop around to point herself in the right direction.

When flying, movements towards the zenith consumed the most mana, while dives were the most economical. Interestingly, it was breaking and banking that exerted the most significant burden on one’s mana pool, not to mention one's physical body.

“Come on, don’t be like that!” She persisted, leaving behind a dense trail of inefficiently spent Lightning mana.

On the sideline, Wing Commander Dienhart was enjoying the show. Kitty was a natural dogfighter. The girl’s petite frame in addition to her Ice and Air element gave her the nimbleness of a pixie. Gwen, on the other hand, reminded Dienhart of a wyvern, a powerhouse flyer that executed every manoeuvre, accomplished every turn with pure athleticism. Still, considering the girl could only fly in linear trajectories when she arrived, he was satisfied as a teacher.

But after twenty laps of the sparrow versus wyvern aerial tag, even the Wing Commander grew annoyed.

Kitty landed, pale and puffing from the excessive expenditure.

Gwen performed a summersault overhead when she failed to check in time, landing far enough that she had to walk the rest of the way.

“Have you heard from Mayuree?” Gwen inquired earnestly, not the least puffed out.

“Sure.” Kitty looked up, her pale eyes the colour of blue-tinged glacier. As the mana drained from her body, however, her irises took on a pecan hue. “Mia's doing well.”

“That's good to hear. How’re things back in the old country?”

“Cosy.”

"No Tyrant troubles?"

"None at all," Kitty replied, her face hidden by her shoulder-length hair.

“When do you think she’s coming back? I’ve got a party on the 25th of May; you’re invited as well. I hope Marong gave Mia the Message."

In the next moment, Kitty’s expression grew catty and hostile.

“I need to train.” The girl turned from Gwen. “We’re not friends, Miss Song. Please don’t talk to me unless it's life or death.”

Before Gwen could retort, the girl ran off, aided by body-enhancement magic.

A none too pleased Wing Commander Dienhart reached her side, sympathetic but otherwise offended.

“I shouldn’t butt in,” the veteran growled. “But don’t bring that kind of drama to my lessons. In the field, I’d have both of you disciplined. Mark my words, you'll be up to your knees in latrine duty.”

“Sorry, Commander,” Gwen apologised. “I don’t know what’s happening either.”

“Well, whatever it is, you better at least reach Kitty’s lowest lap record.”

“Yessir!” Gwen snapped to attention. In the next second, feeling frustrated and irritable, she took off in a blast of silvery Lightning, threading through the gaps in the obstacle course with the bumbling grace of a honeyed-up bumblebee.


April passed without Gwen catching Kitty even once, not even when she commanded Ariel to camp at the entrance of the penthouse, terrifying the cleaners who came every Monday night.

The whole ordeal had left a sour taste in her mouth, for if they were to be on the same side for the IIUC, what did their current relationship forebode for their future teamwork?

Her immediate instinct was to consult Marong, but Mayuree's brother had left as well, leaving her with well-wishes and a promise that the House of M would soon deliver her friend's return Message.

As for the week ahead, other than her dedicated class and work times, she had set herself two tasks.

One was a luncheon with Senior Bai to discuss potential competitors, and the other was to make tangible progress in her twin endeavours of completing her Chakram as well as Lulan’s Panzerschreck.

Of the two, Senior Bai was her first order of business.

Bai Tei looked around the small, cramped restaurant awkwardly, uncomfortable in his mandarin jacket.

For their secret wish fulfilment, the other members of the duelling club had goaded him into dressing up for the occasion. In his Storage Ring, he even had a bouquet of rare Wildland flowers from a nearby florist.

"How many?"

A heavily set NoM woman who Bai could only assume to be the lady-boss of Fengbo Village, famous for its Beggar’s Chicken, asked if he was alone or with a group. Close to dinner time, the place was packed shoulder to shoulder, its air gravid with the scent of spiced fowl.

“I am looking for someone.” Bai swallowed, quickly undoing a few buttons.

“Senior! Over here!”

Bai cursed those bastards at the Duelling Club.

When the girl stood to reveal herself, the whole restaurant took note. It was like that time when he went with Uncle Chu to the Front, where a hundred Jiang-shi suddenly turned toward him with their phosphorescent eyes when he prematurely activated his magic.

Regretting everything, he squeezed past the patrons toward the girl, finding her alone. Curiously, there was a ring of space which surrounded their table.

“Shaa!” The answer to Bai’s silent enquiry revealed itself, sloppily absorbing on an enormous stock-bone with its lamprey’s maw.

“EEE!”

Beside Caliban was her other Familiar, likewise sitting on the floor with a bone of its own, chewing away happily.

“The boss-lady was very kind.” She flashed him a winning smile. “Come, sit.”

He couldn’t help but notice that she wore a flattering dress; though arguably, Gwen could wear a rice-sack and be no less attractive.

Pausing slightly, Bai purged his head of useless thoughts with a mote of Elemental Dust, then sat. The stupid idiots at the club had warped his expectations, but it didn't mean he should continue to entrench himself in fantasy.

“My shout,” Gwen offered. “Whatever you like.”

“You can order,” Bai informed their honorary member. “My sense of taste has… declined somewhat.”

“Oh, is that an elemental trait?”

“Something like that.” Bai nodded. “Our senses dull over time, and the stimulus required to reach the old threshold grows increasingly more and more demanding. My Master takes his salt by the fistful.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Gwen's expression was one of devastation. For a foodie like her, 'sans taste' was a fate akin to death.

“Coming from a Void user, I am grateful.”

The girl's smile was as sweet as nectar.

“Mama Chu! Beggar’s banquet! Extra Chicken!”

“You heard her, Banquet-extra-chicken!”

“Coming right up, Miss!”

After the juicy morsels filled the void left by the absence of meaningful conversation, Bai began to query Gwen's unexpected generosity. That was when under no uncertain terms, she asked Bai to give her a rundown of who would pose a 'threat'.

“To you? Why would anyone be a threat to you?"

“To Lulan or Richard, I mean.”

“I see.” Bai mulled over the list in his head. “I am confident Richard can assume the second Defence slot, or a Controller position. However, your ex-Clanner is indeed in a precarious position.”

“Any advice?”

“Realistically? No, it’s a fair competition, leave it to the Proctors. You're not thinking of anything unsavoury, I hope.”

“But can you tell me about them at least?” Gwen fluttered her voluminous lashes innocently. “I can access their Tower records with CCs, but that doesn't tell me about their quirks or their characters. I would prefer not to walk into the June training session blind as a dingbat.”

Bai regarded Gwen’s pleading eyes. The dim glow of her vivid pupils in the amber ambiance of the restaurant’s sickly bulbs told him that it was a terrible idea to give the girl what she wanted. After their fateful encounter on the duelling field, his Clan had given him express advice to tread lightly.

“Please?” The Void Sorceress flashed her pearly teeth, her face coy and full of feigned innocence.

“I shouldn’t.” Bai circulated another mote of Dust. “That information is privy to Fudan DC.”

“Give me something.” She leaned in. “Biggest threat to Lulan’s assured selection. That's all I ask.”

His mind caught in a jumble, a name came to Bai’s lips. After masticating the syllables in his mind, he relented that it wasn’t so bad if he let one through.

“What’s in it for me?” Bai averted his psychic assailant’s wanton eyes.

“Whatever you like,” the girl teased him.

“I want you to leave him alone. How’s that?”

“Sure.” Gwen's swift response made light of his request. “I promise.”

“Hmm,” Bai grunted. “Jinwei Li”

“From Lulu's family?”

“Yes. A third-year - keeps to himself usually; quiet and doesn’t speak much. Jinwei hails from Huashan’s Inner Sect, the Patriarch's faction. He's sitting at the apex of Lulan’s generation.”

“Would Lulu know him?”

“Presumably. From what I've heard from the other Clanners, your girl's problems with her Iron Heart technique makes her a bit of an outcast. On the other hand, Jinwei is a decent fellow. The strange thing is, he’s never shown any interest in Fudan’s extra-curricular pursuits, like most Clanner prodigies, he’s enrolled to receive a degree from a C9 university, then go home. It was the same with Lulan Li; they’re only here for the formal certification.”

“How about you?”

“I can’t say I am not in the same boat, but I do enjoy my time here.” Bai smiled. “The reason I am telling you this is because I can’t figure out why Jinwei would sign up to the IIUC. He’s a third-year, meaning even if he’s a part of the winning team, all his gains are limited. For Lulan and Kusu, a win could be huge. They could find new Masters, gain scholarship grants, receive positions in the CCP or Pudong Tower - as for Jinwei; he'll receive a better position, that's all.”

“So you think he’s here for Lulu?”

“Its as good a reason as any other,” Bai confessed. “There’s no promoting Huashan’s Spellcraft because no one else can use it. I mean, take yourself, for example, your Spell List uses IMS incantations, and your purpose is to peddle Void Magic to the public. For Jinwei, who knows?”

“That is suspect." Gwen’s eyes flashed dangerously. "If he’s here to pull Lulan’s leg…”

“Gwen, you promised…”

“Yeah-yeah.” The Void sorceress averted Bai’s eyes. “Thanks, Senior Bai. I owe you one.”

Bai sipped his ice tea. Hopefully, the Clan of Li saved themselves the trouble. If not, and if Jinwei Li attempted to sabotage Lulan’s IIUC opportunities, then Bai could only pray that Huashan preached the Confucian teachings that the Junzi must remain unbound by negative emotions of resentment and vengeance.

Likewise, as a disciple of the old Masters, it was his duty to give the girl at least a little guidance.

"Gwen." Bai cleared his throat, then smiling, he adopted a segment from the Analects. "The gentleman is never contentious. Even in losing, he shall retire to drink the forfeit-cup. So that in victory or loss, he remains a true Junzi."

The girl's grin was enough to melt the smile right from his face.

"Oh, but Sir," Gwen assured her senior of her best intentions. "I am not a gentleman."

As it turned out, Eric Walken was precisely the sort of scoundrel Confucious feared.

“Here are the stats on your competitors.” Walken passed over almost two-dozen data slates. “Have a look and advise me on how you wish to proceed. Remember, all’s fair in love and war.”

Banishing Senior Bai from her mind, Gwen lowered her eyes and perused the data slates.

**Anita Wong**
 **Position::** Defence
 **P.O.B::** China, Beijing
**Ethnicity::** Han
**Age:** 19
 **Eyes:** Amber (Clear)
 **Hair:** Black
**Height:** 168CM
Transmutation (5), Abjuration (3)
**Quasi-Elemental::** Mineral (Calcite)
 **Spirit::** Rock-Eater (Minor)
 **S.I.D::** 12598 S0203
 **Questing Class Permit::** A2
 **P.P.M.I.D::** 9443399 002
 **Note::** Persistent Crystalline Effects, Spirit can restore Caster’s mana by consuming Transmuted or Conjured Earth Elements.

There’s even a picture of the young woman, a northerner with sharp cheekbones and a mirthful smile.

Quickly, Gwen skimmed through the others, pausing whenever she struck a familiar name.

**Karie Mok**
**Position ::** Utility
 **P.O.B::** China, Hangzhou Frontier
**Ethnicity:** Han
**Age::** 20
 **Eyes:** Black
**Hair:** Dark Blue
**Height:** 154CM
Divination (5), Illusion (4)
**Prime-Elemental::** Air
 **Spirit::** None
 **S.I.D::** 12598 S0101
 **P.P.M.I.D ::** 8942379 003
 **Questing Class Permit::** A4
 **Note::** Currently the sole specialist Diviner in Selection

The only Diviner.
Gwen touched a finger to her lips.
Alas, that spot could have belonged to Mayuree.
Now that Miss Mok was the sole Diviner, the only recourse was that she and this girl must both enjoy a most cordial working relationship.

Next was her cousin.

**Richard Huang**
 **Position::** Defence, Control
**P.O.B::** Australia, Sydney
 **Ethnicity:** Eurasian
**Age:** 19
 **Eyes:** Grey, Dark
**Hair:** Brown, Dark
 **Height:** 185 CM
Conjuration (5) Abjuration (4)
 **Prime Elemental::** Water
 **Spirit::** Lea (Sapient Undine, High)
**S.I.D::** 12601 S0203
 **P.P.M.I.D ::** 8341279 005
 **Questing Class Permit::** AA2
 **Note::** Undine Spirit allows complete control of water with effectiveness up to tier 8. Key strategist. Unless selected with Gwen Song, the contestant will withdraw from the IIUC.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The note flooded Gwen with a flush of warmth.

**Lu Fung**
 **Position::** Offence
 **P.O.B::** China, Nantong
**Age::** 18
 **Ethnicity:** Han
**Eyes:** Black
 **Hair:** Black
**Height:** 172CM
Conjuration (5), Divination (3) Evocation (2)
 **Quasi-Elemental::** Lightning
 **Spirit:** : Wanli (Medium)
 **S.I.D::** 13598 S0203
 **P.P.M.I.D ::** 8342228 004
 **Questing Class Permit::** A3
 **Note::** Aerial Familiar.

Poor Lu, she thought to herself. The Conjurer would have been amazing if not for their mutual redundancies. Even though Lu appeared to have completed his Divination for Link-Sight before she did, she wasn't confident in his chances.

**Lulan Li**
 **Position::** Offence
 **P.O.B::** China, Shaanxi Frontier
**Age::** 17
 **Ethnicity:** Han
**Eyes:** Brown
**Hair:** Black
**Height:** 164 CM
Huashan Sword-Art (5)
**Prime-Elemental::** Earth (Iron)
 **Spirit::** None
 **S.I.D::** 16798 S0102
 **P.P.M.I.D ::** 8783379 003
 **Questing Class Permit::** AA2
 **Note::** Experienced Questing Mage. Unless selected with Gwen Song, the contestant will withdraw from the IIUC.

Lulan was such a sweetie.

 **Kitty Liang**
 **Position::** Offence, Control
 **P.O.B::** China, Qinhai Frontier
**Age::** 18
 **Ethnicity:** Hui
**Eyes:** Brown (Light)
 **Hair:** Black
**Height:** 159 CM
Evocation (5) Transmutation (5)
 **Para-Elemental ::** Air / Ice
**Spirit::** Ice Roc (Minor)
**S.I.D ::** 11597 S0103
**P.P.M.I.D ::** 8341279 005
 **Questing Class Permit::** A4
 **Note::** Exceptional aerial combatant, excellent control over dual-elemental magic.

The next slate was for herself, with the same headshot she had taken when she enrolled.

**Gwen Song**
 **Position::** Offence, Control
 **P.O.B::** Australia, Sydney
**Age::** 17
 **Ethnicity:** Eurasian
**Eyes:** Hazel (Green)
 **Hair:** Black
**Height:** 182CM
Evocation (5), Conjuration (5) Transmutation (3)
Abjuration (2) Divination (1) Illusion (2)
**Quasi-Elemental ::** Lightning / Void
 **Spirit::** Ariel (Pseudo Kirin, Minor) Caliban (Void Beast, unconfirmed)
 **S.I.D::** 12598 S0203
**P.P.M.I.D ::** 9840598 001
**Questing Class Permit::** A2
 **Note::** Void Mage. The individual is extremely dangerous. Potentially unstable. Candidate backing including Nantong Fungs, Dean Luo, Jun Song and Ambassador Ayxin of Huangshan.

Am I taller again? Gwen furrowed her brows. She wasn’t going to become a basketball player at this rate, was she? And 'extremely dangerous?' Well, she supposed that was right. Unstable? Now that’s just rude-

AYXIN?

The Dragon-princess had put in a word for her? Was this her returning a favour, or was this at uncle Jun’s behest? If Ayxin made a request, then her selection was most certainly assured. No official would risk the sanctuary of Shanghai just so that they could follow ethical guidelines for a Questing competition Fudan had failed for two decades straight.

After taking a moment to take in the gravitas of her nepotic rise to power, Gwen quickly flipped through the data slates until she found the one Senior Bai had mentioned.

**Jinwei Li**
 **Position::** Offence
 **P.O.B::** China, Xian
**Age::** 20
 **Ethnicity:** Han - Uyghur
**Eyes:** Grey (Light)
 **Hair:** Warm Brown
**Height:** 176 CM
Huashan Sword-Art (6)
**Prime-Elemental::** Earth (Iron)
 **Spirit:** : Onyx Cricket (Medium)
 **S.I.D::** 12598 S0203
 **Questing Class Permit:** : AA1
 **P.P.M.I.D:** : 8235909 003
 **Note::** Commendation from General Yingyi Hao for exceptional valour in combat.

Jesus, Gwen swore under her breath. Lulan had nothing on this guy. It was like comparing herself to Lu Fung.

The headshot showed a serious looking young man with large, oval eyes more typical of nomads living on the western steppes. The rest of the man’s face was atypically Han-Chinese, pancake flat and delicate, with thin lips and a straight, flattering nose. Rather than handsome, Gwen found the young man strangely effeminate.

Walken glanced over her shoulder. He liked to do that a lot, she noticed.

“That one's giving you grief?”

“Not yet.” Gwen mulled her options. “Where did you get these?”

“Found them lying around."

The two exchanged a look.

“So that you know, the Chinese have a saying: strike first and gain the upper hand,” Walken spoke beside her ear. “Why resolve a problem when you can prevent one?”

Gwen swallowed apprehensively, reading her Instructor's thoughts.

"Wouldn't that be... unethical?"

"Ha!" Walken snorted. "You think they wouldn't do the same to you? They're afraid, that's all! The University - the Tower - your allies will skin anyone who dares!"

"But-"

"No 'buts'!"

"Eric-"

"Gwen - if you can take advantage of a situation in some way, it is your duty to do so. Why should the race always be to the swift or the contest to the strong? Should your competitors be allowed an advantage merely because of their superior gifts, rarer talents, their God-gifted grace? Of course not: victory, Gwen, is the gift man gives himself. Your contemplation of 'fairness' is a disservice to yourself."

"I am pretty sure that is NOT what Ecclesiastes says," Gwen recognised at least a part of Walken's faux bible blurb.

"No, but it is the psalm of victors." Walken's face burned with a fervent faith.

Her teeth clenched.

The man's advice was difficult to refute.

What is fairness? She found herself questioning her motives. Where's the line separating morality and immorality? Was this a case of the hero’s hubris turning them into the villain? What would she do? Use the Fung Clan to pressure Huashan until the Clan relented, or use her money to crush the Clan's finances, then use the leverage to force them to give up all their secrets for Lulan while simultaneously withdrawing Jinwei? Given the next four months, it was doable.

But that would be evil.

Or would it?
Wouldn’t her enemies have done the same, relenting but for the lack of gall?

It’s a slippery slope! She cautioned herself against Walken!

BUT! The crony capitalist in her mind stood up in her four-inch heels. Isn’t ruthless competition the whole point? A true Laissez-faire market of 'fair competition' was just a pipe dream, something that never existed in the first place. In a perfect world, if they were bakers and not Mages, they would all submit their pies to market, and everyone would have a fair shake of the sauce bottle. The reality though, was that if she were to bake the world's greatest sausage roll, it was more likely some scoundrel on the other side would try to steal her recipe, break her fingers, or prohibit her goods from sale.

As such, as the one holding the tongs, shouldn’t she reciprocate?
To be fair was to be unfair to herself: that was the case for business, if so, why shouldn't it apply to her competitors here?

An arc of electricity leapt from her hair, singing the air.

Opposite, Walken marvelled at the girl’s hawkish gaze staring into the middle distance, her lips muttering words only she could hear. As shades of colour played through the pale complexion of her face, the Magister couldn't help but be reminded of how Gwen had deceived him.

Blackmail? Extortion? Coercion? What terrible plans must the girl be concocting now?

The next morning Gwen Song woke from troubled dreams, finding herself transformed in her bed into a horrible vermin.

“God, you look terrible,” Petra observed when she finally crawled out of bed. “Are you not using your Essence?”

“Errghn,” Gwen excused herself. She had spent the whole night fantasising about all the things she shouldn't be doing.

“What’s wrong?”

“… nothing.” She made a face, wondering if she should tell Petra she’s deciding on whether to undermine her competitors unscrupulously.

“How’s the Chakram going?” Her cousin misread her anxiety.

“I am testing out propulsion and range with Magister Lee on Thursday.” Gwen sighed. “Making new spells is hard.”

Petra laughed.

“It took Master and me two years to formalise Spell Cubes as a new class of Magic.” she chuckled. “Of course it’s hard.”

“But you’re pioneering a whole new branch of Spellcraft, going where no Mage has ever gone before!” Gwen buttered her cousin and companion. “I am just trying to put some age-old knowledge together in a functional way.”

Petra blushed.

‘Ding!’ Gwen's Message device chimed.

“Sorry, let me get this. Lulu, what’s up?… What? WHAT?! OKAY, WAIT FOR ME!”

“Sorry, Pats - emergency!” Gwen scowled.

The bastard! She spat internally. To think Huashan would strike when she least expected it!

“What’s wrong?” Petra watched her cousin fly into a seething malevolence. “What’s this about?”

“I’ve been looking up a guy called Jinwei Li,” Gwen explained from the bedroom, quickly slipping out of her nightie and slapping on whatever was on hand. “Struggling - STRUGGLING with my conscience to not send the guy to meet the Mermen in Nantong, and now he comes calling at Lulu’s!”

“Who’s Jinwei?” The Russian observed her glowering, pink-fleshed cousin. “Another molester?”

“Nope!” Gwen growled, spluttering as she struggled into her dress. “Worse!”

“Ahahahaha…” Gwen laughed awkwardly, holding Lulan close to her body, a hand gripping each shoulder. “As I thought, it’s all a misunderstanding!”

“Gwen…” Lulan winced. “You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry!” Her fumbling fingers relaxed.

A few minutes ago, she had charged head first into Lulan’s apartment with both Familiars akimbo. The moment Gwen saw Jinwei looming over Lulan, she let loose a surge of concentrated Dragon-fear like a shaped-charge, blasting the poor Sword Mage with the force of a high-tier Horrify.

On reflex, Jinwei leapt backwards, a gleaming sword materialising in each hand, filling the air with the sound of screaming metal.

“Take him down!” Gwen commanded. "But keep him alive!"

Ariel leapt onto Lulan’s dining table, scattering plates, fried tofu, soy sauce, porridge and pickles all over. Meanwhile, Caliban slithered through the kitchen to flank the Mage, banging through the cramped space, sending down a torrent of spice-jars, cups, glasses and a pot lid.

“On your knees, Asshole!” Gwen's voice thundered through the room, shaking plaster from the walls. “How dare you!”

“Gwen, no!”

"I haven't finished eating!" Kusu despaired.

Lulan tackled Ariel as it zoomed toward Jinwei, hugging it close to her chest. Kusu sidestepped, halting Caliban’s advance.

“Miss Song! Why are you attacking me? I am here at your behest!” Jinwei fired back, both swords raised for self-defence.

Perplexed, Gwen commanded her Familiars to stand down.

“What? Explain yourself!"

“I am here because of the request you and Lulan set at Fudan T2!”

Gwen looked at Lulan nodding her head desperately. Kusu likewise moved his chin up and down vigorously.

“Cousin Jinwei is here for the Heart-piercing Sword Quest,” Lulan’s brother informed their saviour. “Hence, you and Lulu invited him.”

Ariel gave its Master a look, asking if it should maim the guy and be done with it. Caliban slobbered all over, despoiling Kusu' rug.

“Ah~...” Gwen cringed, feeling herself shrink. She grabbed Lulan, then hid behind the girl's profile to mask her evident mortification.

The Old Gods beyond! She groaned. It was true; she was the reason the man was over at Lulan’s apartment in the first place. To the poor bugger, it must seem like she and Lulu had lured him into a trap, and now the three of them were going to send him to the hospital for a long time.

“Sorry!” she apologised again, recalling her complaining Familiars. “Shall we… take a seat?”

The trio looked around the apartment. Its current state suggested a trio of Tasmanian devils had ravaged the Li siblings' abode.

“Or not.” Gwen squeezed Lulan's arm like a stress ball, making the girl wince. “Erm… brunch, my shout?”

Thankfully, with an hour to spare before class, there was enough time for the foursome to gather at a local cafe and discuss the matter of Jinwei’s visit.

“I am here for the CCs,” Jinwei confessed. “As well as a peace offering from the main family.”

An olive branch? Gwen sipped her coffee.

“I am not going back,” Lulan stated right off the bat.

"You tell 'em," Gwen affirmed Lulu's decision. "No one is going to make you go anywhere."

Kusu appeared pained, thinking of the leverage lost after Lulan refuted Jinwei’s offer without even hearing the man out. A simpleton his sister was, but she was honest and dear to his heart.

“I am afraid returning would be impossible,” Jinwei answered earnestly. The young man's almond eyes gave him an affable appearance. “The two of you broke Clan law. If anything, it’s a miracle that both of you have retained the Iron-heart technique. Normally, we are honour-bound to retrieve the catalyst.”

“Then why are you helping Lulu?” Gwen's voice cut through the space between Lulan and her cousin. “You joined the IIUC trial. I want to know why. Is it to sabotage her chances?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Jinwei refuted the accusation. “I’ve been instructed to support Miss Li and if need be, gift her my slot if she happens to fail the selection criterion.”

Both Lulan and Kusu appeared bewildered.
Gwen remained dubious. This gift was equally a threat.

“In exchange, the Huashan Clan would like to ask Miss Song to repay the favour.”

“Oh?” Gwen crossed her arms. “A favour from me?”

“Yes.” Jinwei simpered. “Could you ask the Fung Clan to give us a position in the Nantong Tonglv project? Or rather, could you ask them to allow us to tender for a position?”

Gwen's brows formed the Chinese pictogram for 'eight'.

“All the major Clans have a stake in the project,” Jinwei explained. “Either in exploration, subjugation, security or infrastructure. As a state venture, Nantong is exceedingly safe and especially lucrative, so much that it's now called the ‘Southern Miracle’. The word from one of our sources says that it’s going to be one of the most profitable infrastructural projects within a decade, and you're somehow involved in all its sudden transformation.”

Venture capitalism, Gwen snorted. When credit-derivative economics attended Tonglv's 19th-century shipping operations, it's only natural there's going to be boatloads of crystals to be made.

“… But so far we’ve been kept out of every possible avenue. Members of our Clan can’t even take up positions as guards for the construction teams.”

Must be Dai, Gwen discerned.
Or perhaps his father, Shen.

The Fungs knew that she had 'beef' with the Huashan Sword Mages.

Assuming she was right, was Patriarch Shen trying to do her a solid? No, that kind of thinking was foolish. In business, one acted only on principles of leverage and benefit, privileging one's interest. Rather than rebuking Shen Fung, it would be easier to allow Huashan into the second-stage expansion.

“Senior Jinwei says the Clan is short on funds,” Lulan added timidly. “They need crystals and CCs to rebuild the mount’s infrastructure, as well as hire experts to decipher the Clan’s Magic for the IMS Spell List.

A Clan attempting to modernise? Gwen studied Jinwei's reaction. The young man seemed amiable enough, though as usual, the more harmless a rival appeared, the more sceptical she felt.

“What makes you think Lulu can’t make it on her own?”

“The fact that you put out a 200 CC notice requesting for an incantational algorithm to replicate the Piercing-Heart Technique?”

Okay, there is that, Gwen grumbled.

“So, you’re pawning your Clan’s magic, is that it?”

“As a peace offering, yes. Of course, since I took the Quest, I assume you’ll be paying the CCs.”

Gwen scoffed.

Lulan pulled at her sleeve like a kitten begging for treats.

Gwen sighed.

“Very well, Mr Li, what do you propose?”

“I’ve brought the scrolls for the Heart-Piercing Sword, and I’ll demonstrate and teach Lulu the magic in a Cog-Chamber. If you can provide a Magister capable of dismantling or reconstituting the spell, we’re willing to share the spell with outsiders under the condition that we publish as a co-contributor and receive credit for the new spell.”

Which means they can teach it to their Clan members without paying CCs, Gwen mulled over the Sword Mage’s offer. As for Magisters skilled in deconstructing magic, she had Wen, Walken, possibly Petra, and other human resources to call on.

That said, she wouldn't be sharing her limited knowledge of physics with the Sword Mage Clan. What Lulu and Lulu alone would be firing from the Heart-Piercing Sword spell would remain her very own Signature Spell.

Rationally speaking, Li's barter was acceptable. With Tonglv's Stage 1 nearing completion, there's plenty of pie left.

“And in addition to that, you’ll occupy a competitor’s slot, help her in the June try-outs, and bow out if you’re chosen instead of herself?”

“Assuming our Nantong predicament is resolved by then, of course.”

He's dual-wielding a stick and a carrot, Gwen meditated while giving the man the evil eye.

“Lulu? Kusu?”

The siblings had nothing to say; it wasn’t as though they had sway with the Fungs.

“Deal.” Gwen extended a hand. “Help Lulu, and everyone wins. Stab her in the back, and your Clan becomes penniless, and you're food for Caliban.”