We left the Federation building just past noon.
The air smelled like rain and ozone—Mystic's residual qi still hanging in the clouds. The crowd outside had thinned, though a few onlookers still gawked as we ascended.
I mounted up, settling into the forward harness on Mystic's back. Lufei trotted gracefully up the spiral ramp and leapt into her side perch. Maxius landed with a sharp whistle, wings flicking as if to say: About time.
"Academy next," I said, checking the info folder.
Mystic turned, her fins catching the sunlight, and took off with the silence of a god passing through mist.
We crossed three city districts in under five minutes.
City R's Academy was modest compared to the Federation tower—less futuristic, more fortified. Its main dome shimmered with a thin qi barrier, built to withstand beast training, weather anomalies, and overzealous teens.
Mystic descended to the outer platform—an elevated landing pad marked with beast runes. It wasn't built for whales, but she made it work, resting gently along the edge like a coiled storm cloud.
I dismounted smoothly.
"Wait here," I said to Mystic. "No crashing through any roofs today."
She gave a quiet, knowing hum.
⸻
Inside the Academy's main office wing, the lighting was warm and the walls were lined with beast medals and old photos. A secretary blinked at me as I stepped in—small, composed, uniform pressed.
"Name?" she asked, fingers already on the panel.
"Fan Yumei. I'm here to complete enrollment. I have Federation registry confirmation and beast data for administrative upload."
That got her attention.
"…Right. Principal's waiting. Second door on the left."
I knocked once, entered.
The principal's office was comfortably cluttered. Books, scrolls, maps—one corner had an entire diorama of magical beast migration routes. At the desk sat a middle-aged man with weathered eyes and a heavily chewed stylus.
He looked up.
"Oh. You're Fan Yumei."
"Yes, sir."
He stood, mouth twitching like he wasn't sure whether to smile or salute. He settled on a bow. "Welcome. This… this is rare. We don't get many Federation-recognized awakenings out here."
I handed him the folder and my license.
He took it gently, like it might float away.
"Beastmaster… Beast Healer… Rune Master?" he blinked. "Six stars?"
"Yes, sir."
He sat down hard.
"This place trains aspiring tamers, garden-tier cultivators… sometimes the occasional Bronze-class spiritualist. Not… this."
"Understood."
He nodded, gathering himself. "Right. Okay. Your registration is complete. I'll get your beast data uploaded to the safety grid."
He tapped into his panel, cross-referencing Mystic's size and type. His eyebrows went up again.
"Your… Mystic is not a soul beast?"
"No, sir. She's a mythical-class skybeast. We're still learning the full extent of her capabilities."
He nodded slowly. "We'll note her presence in the perimeter registry so the barrier doesn't panic next time she hovers. May I ask that she remain outside Academy grounds unless supervised?"
"She understands," I said.
"Excellent."
He pressed a few more keys, then printed a slim paper-scroll with her class schedule. As it rolled out, he leaned back and looked at me with a more serious expression.
"Let me explain how this all works. You've been accepted into our main training track. That's a four-year course."
I stood straighter.
"These next four years will focus on raising your bond with your beasts, participating in official beast battles, triggering evolutions, and acquiring foundation-level knowledge in survival and tactics," he said, tapping points on the scroll. "You'll also attend courses in elemental theory—specifically Elemental Caller: Beginner Course."
He gave a small smile.
"And for your Rune Master path, we start you off with two fundamentals: What Is a Rune 101 and The Rune Master's Way of Surviving 101. That one's… exactly what it sounds like."
I didn't blink.
"School training missions begin in the second term. Small teams, supervised patrols, resource gathering, sometimes field rescue simulations. Nothing too dangerous until you've earned your clearance."
He continued, "After you graduate from here, you'll move into the Federation Professions Academy. That's two years of focused development in your awakened paths—cultivating your strengths, forming partnerships, and preparing for the College Meet."
"The College Meet?"
"It's a national talent tournament—half formal exam, half battlefield. Entry earns you attention. Victory earns you power. Government eyes, noble house sponsorships, personal contracts, open guild recruitment—everything changes after the Meet."
I nodded once. "Understood."
"Now," he said, raising a brow, "let's talk about points."
He gestured toward a glowing display behind him—showing a simple screen with numbers, names, and ranks.
"This school operates on a merit-based point system. You earn points through performance, missions, sparring matches, even class assessments. Those points let you buy resources on the school portal—materials, books, talismans, rare beast food, low-tier pills."
He smiled slightly. "Or… you can trade them for privileges we offer on campus: gravity training chambers, holo battle rooms, private beast arenas. We even allow beast arena competitions with betting—points or money only. Nothing else."
"Understood," I said without hesitation.
"Just remember," he added, "every privilege costs something. But the smart ones? They learn to make the system work for them."
I gave a small nod. "I plan to."
He finally smiled—something proud beneath the caution.
"I don't know what the future holds for you, Fan Yumei. But I'm glad our little school gets to be part of it."
"Thank you, Principal Zhou."
I left the principal's office with my schedule in hand and a dull ache in my temples.
Four years of training. Two years of professional cultivation. A national tournament. Points, beasts, runes, politics.
No pressure.
I exhaled slowly and headed down the main corridor, scanning the signs for Class 1-C's designated training hall. Afternoon lessons started in fifteen minutes.
Time to grab Lufei and Maxius.
I stepped out onto the open balcony that curved around the dome's outer shell. The view gave me a full sweep of the school's upper terraces—floating bridges, beast perches, rune-lit courtyards, and cluster after cluster of trainees in uniform. Most looked older. Some looked bored. Others looked like they wanted to punch the sky for fun.
Their beasts rested nearby—hawks, hounds, flame-scaled wolves and water-drenched lizards. I even saw a girl getting dragged across the pavement by an overenthusiastic vine-bull.
I kept walking.
And that's when I heard it.
"Hey. Hey, isn't that the moral trash from Sector D?"
The words sliced through the idle chatter like a whipcrack.
Dozens of heads turned.
I didn't.
I just kept walking toward the outer platform where Lufei and Maxius were lounging. They'd been tethered temporarily beside the beast hangar. Mystic hovered several meters above, her fins occasionally stirring wind currents like they were dreams.
Lufei looked up and wiggled one ear. Maxius was halfway through trying to teach her how to mimic an eagle's wing-strike on a squirrel.
I picked up the pace.
Then a boy stepped into my path.
Nine, maybe ten years old, with a shaved side-cut and a faint rune mark under one eye. His uniform was crisp, clean, and probably ironed by some long-suffering servant. A badge on his collar marked him as a first-year elite—likely awakened last season.
He looked me over.
"Tch. They really let you in? A seven-year-old from the trash zones?" He snorted and looked over his shoulder as a few other students gathered behind him. "What's next? Letting in beggars with eggshell beast cores?"
I met his eyes.
No words.
No blink.
He clicked his tongue in irritation. "Don't ignore me, trash. I asked you a question."
I tilted my head, voice flat. "And I'm walking to class."
He stepped in front of me again.
"You don't belong here," he said, more loudly this time, for the benefit of the gathering crowd. "Everyone knows you cheated. Got your beast registered on some fluke. No one from the dirt zones gets a Federation license unless someone rigs it."
"Clearly someone did," I said calmly. "Because now I have three."
That shut him up for a half-second.
I stepped around him, heading toward Lufei and Maxius before the idiot did something even dumber—like insult Mystic and trigger a divine-level tail slap that would wipe out a three-hall radius.
Maxius looked up at me and immediately flared his wings wide like he was about to dive-bomb something. Lufei, eyes still gentle, blinked once and then pawed at the ground nervously.
"Maxius," I called calmly, "no dive-bombing. Lufei, don't eat anyone who smells like spoiled tofu, even if it's deserved."
They both gave vaguely guilty noises.
Behind me, the crowd hadn't moved. Whispering. Staring. And the boy, whoever he was—looked furious that I hadn't risen to the bait.
Let him stew.
Let them all watch.
I had classes to attend, points to earn, and beasts to train.
And I wasn't here for these childish games.