As the dejected ink-gorilla slamming its fist on the desk in defeat faded, the victorious competitor gave one more powerful flex, then also vanished in a splash of ink. Nearby, Det’s hand scribbled down the last measurements he took, and tapped the paper with the fingers of his free hand.

  This wasn’t another painting, but instead the measurements he’d taken by having a series of competing gorillas. He was pretty sure some of the cadets nearby had started taking bets on which gorilla was going to win the lifts, so he’d started alternating which one he was infusing.

  Early on, he figured out he could test more than just the kernels themselves. Yes, they were totally part of the tests, but he needed baselines! How strong were his average renditions? What about if he did direct infusions to their strength with the regular, misty energy flowing through his channels? Or, if he infused other attributes? After that, he’d moved on to kernels and what they did.

  The results were interesting, though more future testing was required to see how much size affected things. His baseline gorillas were able to easily lift twenty pounds, with thirty being a struggling limit. Their little legs shook like leaves in the wind, despite their impressive arms bulging to curl the barbell. Using the direct infusion on the legs with the misty energy got that upper limit to thirty-three pounds, so a ten-percent increase.

  Using the same kind of infusion just on the arms of the gorilla got it up to thirty-five pounds, while doing both pushed it to an impressive forty. Using kernels instead of the misty energy more than doubled those improvements, with the kernel-infused-leg-arm combo lifting a stunning fifty pounds. That had gotten some ooohs and aaaahs from the cadets around him, though he made sure not to explain exactly how he was getting the results.

  Baby-face had definitely started paying more attention to the antics on Det’s side of the classroom. With the duel coming up, hiding some of his cards had merit, but he had something else he had to test. Knowing his limits was more important than surprising baby-face. Besides, he was still going to kick that guy’s ass no matter what he knew or didn’t.

  The real winning combination of kernels turned out to be something other than double-strength focused on different parts of the rendition. Det had also tried a general strength usage of the kernels, but that had brought in slightly lower results, with the gorilla doing around forty-five. No, the best combination for power—at least in the lifting competition—was actually one into the gorilla’s arm-strength, and then one into general durability.

  That had gotten the hyper-focused gorilla to lift sixty pounds. Double the baseline.

  That won’t necessarily translate directly in a fight, but it’s an important avenue to consider. What was that other attribute they mentioned? Attunement? I wonder how improving that would work on a rendition… maybe combine it with a boost to dexterity? Physically faster and able to keep up with speedy enemies? Worth trying, instead of just making claws sharper… or making my renditions angrier.

  Det’s mind went back to the honey-badgers he’d created in the Radiant dungeon, and how… extreme they’d been. They definitely woke up and chose violence.

  He tapped the paper once more, committing the numbers to memory, then pushed his energy into the page. Though it wasn’t an image for summoning, it was still ink on paper, created by him, and he destroyed it without leaving any waste behind.

  “That was fun,” Crazy Legs said, patting Det on the shoulder as the man walked by to meet up with Trium at the front of the room.

  “I was betting with Rocky,” Aria said, twisted around in her seat with Rocky—her small earth elemental—on her shoulder. “He won every time.”

  The elemental flexed its own stone arms.

  “A shared passion for weights?” Det joked.

  “I guess,” Aria said. “Oh, I’ve gotta run. See you in the cafeteria?” Trium and Crazy Legs were waving at the woman, and she hopped up, nodded to Det before he could answer, then jogged off.

  With her gone, Sage came over to Det’s desk. “Got some good data? Or, was that all just to entertain us and annoy Beauty?”

  “It wasn’t that disruptive,” Det said. Still, he snuck a look in the instructor’s direction. The man didn’t look annoyed. Or angry. Or happy or sad, or any other emotion. Pretty much par for the course, so Det could only shrug. “And, yes, I figured some stuff out. How did you two do this morning?”

  “Definitely better after our field trip,” Sage said. The whole reason Det and his group had gone to the dungeons in the first place was to give Eriba and Sage practice using their magic on Wordless with energy supplied by the dungeons. It just wasn’t the same for them in the classroom. From the sounds of things, though, even that short outing was enough to get them a bit ahead.

  “I’m still having trouble,” Eriba admitted quietly, bangs hiding her face. “I can’t get the infusions to… stick. They aren’t sticky enough.”

  “I had that problem too,” Sage said. “But, it was because how much energy I need to use just to get the artificer’s construct started. I’ve got some tips, if you like?”

  “That would be great,” Eriba said, bouncing a little on her toes before curling in on herself again.

  “No problem,” Sage said. “We can talk about it over lunch. Even though Det isn’t standing yet. You planning to skip eating to keep practicing?”

  “Want to ask Beauty something,” Det said, watching where Oligy stood in front of the two instructors, asking questions. “Soon as…” he didn’t need to finish his sentence, with the other cadet snapping a sharp salute, before jogging out of the classroom.

  “Need us to stay with you?” Sage asked.

  “Nah,” Det said. “With how Oligy was running to get to the mess, though, maybe you should go ahead of save me something?”

  “I am hungry,” Eriba said.

  “Fine,” Sage said. “We’ll save you some. Don’t be long.”

  “I won’t be,” Det told the pair. As the other two went for the door, Det finally stood and approached the instructor’s desk at the front of the room.

  Beast was still seated and playing with the ink-kitten she demanded every time Det was in the classroom. He’d added an extra kernel to durability, and another to duration, just to make sure he didn’t spend his whole day catering to the needy instructor.

  Next to her, Beauty stood with his own ink-kitten perched like some kind of royalty on his shoulder. The damn kitten somehow even managed to look haughty as it stared at its creator, like he was suddenly now beneath it.

  … the hell?

  “Cadet Det,” Beauty said in greeting. Sage, Eriba, and Det were the only three cadets Beauty hadn’t evaluated that morning, so they hadn’t really spoken. “How was your practice going?”

  “Really well, thanks,” Det said. “I was trying to figure out the benefits and limits of the infusions we’re practicing. Think I’ve got a rough handle of what they do. Need to play with size a bit, but that’s harder in the classroom.”

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

  “Hrm,” Beauty said, a hand going to his chin in thought. On this shoulder, the ink-kitten made a similar gesture, bringing its paw up to its mouth. Haughty or not, it was kind of adorable. “Given what you did on the Skyshark,”—the mistship the group had traveled to and from Radiant on—“I can understand why you would want to explore that.”

  “What did you do on the Skyskank?” Beast asked without looking up from her kitten.

  “Skyshark,” Beauty corrected. “And didn’t you read the report that was provided?”

  “Too long,” Beast said, a flick of her hand showing how little that appealed to her.

  “Then you have no grounds to ask questions,” Beauty chided.

  “Boooo,” Beast said, blowing a raspberry in Beauty’s direction. The sound had the kitten rolling onto its back and swinging its paws in Beast’s direction, which was far more entertaining than the conversation Det and Beauty were having.

  Honestly, that was probably the best result… other than Beast now blowing one, endless raspberry in the kitten’s direction.

  Beauty could only roll his one, good eye, with the patch over his other… well, doing nothing. It was a patch.

  “I will see about getting you some space—perhaps one of the other rooms—in the building for you to experiment with size,” Beauty said. “I take it, when finished, you will leave the room as you found it?”

  “Oh? Really?” Det said. “That would be great. And, of course, you won’t even know I was in there. No evidence and all that.”

  “I shall inquire about it over the lunch break, and see about getting something set up later in the week,” Beauty said. “Was that what you came to speak to us…” he glanced in Beast’s direction, still blowing raspberries. “To me about?” he amended.

  “No, actually,” Det said. “Er, not exactly. I did want to ask you about space. Do we have private places we can spar or practice fighting?”

  “Ah,” Beauty said, and he looked to the empty desk where baby-face usually sat. “Preparation for tomorrow?”

  “Kind of,” Det said. “The… uh… field trip,” he said the words quietly, since he wasn’t allowed to talk about the dungeons or any secrets related to the Wordless. “It taught me how much I don’t know about fighting. I thought I was pretty good with a sword… until I realized I only ever learned how to fight other people with swords.”

  “And your opponent tomorrow is unlikely to fight you with one,” Beauty said, catching on.

  “Unless it’s one made of sand,” Det said. “Which, from what I’ve seen, is possible.”

  “Oh, keeping an eye on an adversary’s skills?” Beauty raised his single eyebrow.

  “Just like he’s been keeping an eye on mine,” Det replied. “Not that it will help him.”

  “Confidence?” Beauty said. “Good to see. You’ve earned some of that, as long as it doesn’t turn into overconfidence. As for your question, yes, there are private training rooms available. Free to use as well, to all our cadets, regardless of accomplishments. A few from the other classes have already begun spending extra time in them.”

  “How can I sign up?” Det said.

  “You just did,” Beauty said. “When I return from lunch, I will assign a room number to you. Do you know square buildings with the statues on them near the arena?”

  “Yeah,” Det said. The buildings were tough to miss.

  “The training rooms are in there. It will be yours from when we finish classes until midnight tonight. You are expected to sleep sometimes, after all.”

  “Perfect, thanks,” Det said.

  “Also, cadet,” Beauty said. “On the note of fighting and the learning we all did while on the field trip, you and your group will have said classes on Saturdays.”

  “We have classes on Saturdays?” Det said.

  “You do now,” Beauty said. “I was going to tell you, Cadets SJ and Eriba after class, but since you brought it up, now is as good a time as any. We will continue working on our magic three days a week, while Wednesdays and Fridays cover different topics.

  “The day after tomorrow, Wednesday, you will cover combat and alchemy. Friday will be history and survival, while Saturday will be purely focused on combat training. Seeing that you are putting it into practice immediately, we felt it prudent to spend more time on it.”

  “Prudent, yeah,” Det agreed.

  “And, since you will be away from the school every other week on… field trips, we have brought in other instructors to assist with these other classes. You will meet them this week, and they will be solely responsible for your curriculum while on the road. So to speak.”

  “Are they as…” Det stopped, looked over at Beast and the ink-kitten she tickled, then back to Beauty. “As professional as you are?”

  Beauty’s whole body clenched like he was trying to resist something—probably sighing at his partner—then opened his mouth to answer. Nothing came out. He closed his mouth, then opened to start it again. Still nothing. One more try, and this time he finally spoke.

  “You will have to determine that for yourself,” he said cryptically.

  That sounds… promising.

  “Each of them are exceptional at what they will teach you,” Beauty went on. “Cups is one of the best C-Rank Duelists we’ve ever had, when it comes to skill and the ability to… critique another.”

  “You mean berate, don’t you?” Det said, translating that pause in a heartbeat.

  “His teaching technique may need some work,” Beauty admitted. “But, moving past that, you couldn’t ask for a better instructor to refine your techniques. You’ll likely learn more from him than almost any other option we could give you.”

  “What about Captain Simmons?” Det said, thinking back to the sword-wielding ReSouled who’d originally gone to pick up Det and Calisco from Radiant. The man was a Duelist, with his magic focusing on swords—not on the beyond-perfect curl in his hair, unless he had two magics, which wasn’t supposed to be possible for ReSouled—and had sparred with Det on the mistship. Skilled was an understatement when it came to describing the A-Ranked man.

  Prankster would be another good name for him…

  “Captain Simmons, the Bladestorm, is a very busy man,” Beauty said. “Though he is ‘only’ A-Rank, he fights almost at the level of an S-Rank. When he finally achieves S, well, let’s just say there are very high hopes for him. To send him to train a single group of E-Rank cadets would be a waste of…”

  “I’m in!” Simmons said as he suddenly walked into the classroom, like speaking his name had summoned him. Perfect hair practically sparkling in the light, with that curl—that had to be magic—hanging in front of his eye like a monocle, the man wasn’t wearing his usual armor. And, he only had three swords with him. One on each hip, and a third peeking up above his shoulder. “Put me on the rotation for a week—not next week, I have a date—and I’ll take the kids out to whip them into shape.”

  “Sir?” Beauty said. “Your schedule…”

  “Can make room for some of the promising new cadets we have,” Simmons said smoothly. A look in Beast’s direction at her constant stream of raspberries—Is she even breathing over there?—and then a shake of his head. Yeah, he knew Beast. His attention was firmly back on Beauty. “Would that be a problem?”

  “Not at all, sir,” Beauty said. “I am sure the cadets would be honored.”

  “Debatable,” Det said, having been the victim of the captain’s mischief. “What are you even doing here? Earns burning?”

  “Nah, people are always talking about me,” Simmons said like it was no big thing. “And, what, I can’t come visit my favorite new cadet?”

  “Now I’m legit nervous,” Det said. “Why are you really here? It’s to see Beauty, isn’t it?”

  “Nope, you,” Captain Simmons said, then leaned in closer to Det. “Heard you just got back from… doing some stuff.” He gave an exaggerated wink. “Thought I’d swing by for lunch so you could tell me all about it.”

  “The… field-trip report,” Beauty started. “It has all of the details.”

  “Reports are boring,” Simmons said, now leaning in closer to get a better look at the kitten on Beauty’s shoulder. The kitten, in response, sat up straighter and tilted its head back so it could look down its nose at Simmons. Giving the cocky cat a little flick in the nose with his finger, Simmons looked back at Beauty, then Det. “I’d rather hear it straight from the source. Besides, there’s some juicy gossip somebody has a duel set up for tomorrow! I must know more.”

  “Only if you’re paying for lunch,” Det said.

  “Of course!” Captain Simmons said. “We have to go somewhere we can talk without prying ears, after all. I don’t want the redacted version of things.”

  “Just ensure you aren’t late returning to class,” Beauty said.

  “I’ll get him back before his curfew, Dad,” Simmons joked.

  “Real quick, before I go,” Det said. “Who are the other instructors we’re getting? Cups for combat…”

  “Ooooh,” Simmons said at hearing Cups’ name.

  Det ignored him. So did Beauty. Beast wasn’t listening in the first place.

  “Cups will be doing both your combat and alchemy classes,” Beauty said. “As for history and survival, the other two classes you will beginning this term, Fluke will be your instructor.”

  “Fluke is their name?” Det said.

  “Yes, her magic revolves around luck,” Beauty said.

  “She’s a good choice for those classes,” Simmons said.

  “Which means something… entertaining is bound to happen to us because of her magic,” Det said with a sigh.

  “Her magic is both good and bad luck,” Beauty admitted.

  “I’ll make sure to pack extra ink and underwear,” Det said. He didn’t know much—anything?—about these two new instructors, but despite their quirks, it sounded like they had potential. And that would make Det stronger.

  No objections then. If I can put up with Simmons, they should be a breeze. Speaking of…

  “Shall we get going? I have to be back before your swords turn into pumpkins or something,” Det said.

  “Well then, this way my princess,” Captain Simmons extended a hand and dropped into a dramatic bow with one foot sweeping back.

  Det slapped the hand away—well, tried to, with the hand executing a perfect circular disengage—and went for the door, the captain laughing all the way.

  And Beast still raspberrying the kitten in the background.