The instant I woke up, it felt like my entire body was ablaze. Not the comforting warmth of a hearth—this was the kind of burning that seared from the inside out. Sothing within had ignited, cells flaring to life and ricocheting around like restless fireflies. The inferno’s epicenter was unmistakable: my core. The one thing all three of my forms had in common. My monster core.
Sothing had definitely gone sideways—or maybe upward—while I was in my dream with Lotte. Even Belle was flitting around my head, chirping nervously. I wanted to reassure her, but every ti I tried, the molten energy tearing through laughed in my face. I couldn’t move, couldn’t pry my eyes open. My body was locked in place, but my awareness stayed stubbornly intact, thanks to Air Sense feeding a constant trickle of environntal details.
There was a full-blown hurricane raging in my chest. Sothing was digging in—no, embedding itself—like it was carving out a permanent residence.
So there I lay, paralyzed and simring in my own personal hell, clinging to the slim hope that this tornt would have the decency to wrap up soon. And then, as if the universe decided I’d suffered enough, it did. My first breath after the chaos was so forceful it could’ve knocked a house of cards across the room.
Belle darted back to , her worry palpable. “I’m fine,” I croaked, though my voice was far less convincing than the rivers of sweat pouring off . Speaking of sweat—I was soaked, not just in that salty sheen but sothing else entirely. A thick, tar-like muck clung to my skin, reeking of impurity. My body had just gone through so sort of spring cleaning, but instead of a lemon-fresh finish, I got hit with the stench of raw death. Lovely.
It was a phenonon I hadn’t experienced firsthand before. My growth process wasn’t exactly textbook, but I wasn’t ignorant to the usual signs. When soone’s core advances in color, their body tends to purge itself of impurities, leaving them fresher, stronger—basically, like a newly polished blade. Except, oh sweet Thalador, the sll. It was enough to make reconsider having a nose.
I should’ve stood up imdiately, if not to escape the stench, then to survey the damage. But dread rooted in place—the dread of seeing what horrors had befallen my poor sheets. Before I could decide whether to face the carnage, my attention snapped to the string of notifications now blazing across my vision.
[Alignnt Evaluation Complete.]
[Conditions t! Alignnt Assigned!]
[Alignnt: Judgnt (Lightning)]
[Alignnt Bonuses Unlocked:]
Lightning-based spells enhanced by 25%.
Additional effects unlocked for Lightning Affinity.
Judgnt activities accumulate bonus experience.
[Alignnt activities detected! Experience points acquired!]
[Level increased: 15 → 16.]
[Strength 6, Durability 3, Intelligence 6, Willpower 3.]
[Level increased: 16 → 17.]
[Strength 6, Durability 3, Intelligence 6, Willpower 3.]
[Level increased: 17 → 18.]
[Strength 6, Durability 3, Intelligence 6, Willpower 3.]
Holy Thalador! While the shiny new bonus was great and all, was I staring at an entirely new thod of leveling up? A second track? My excitent spiked as I imdiately summoned my stat screen.
Na: Jade
Level: 18
Species: Wraithscale (Draconis) (IV)
Alignnt: Judgent (Lightning)
Attributes:
Strength: 237
Durability: 200
Intelligence: 262
Willpower: 195
Mana Points (MP): 154/154
Dark Mana Points (Wraith Heart): 30/30
Stamina Points (SP): 311/311
Abilities:
Mana Devourer
Distortion Cloak
Alignnt Abilities (1/4):
Thunder Verdict
Species Skills:
Resonance Roar: Level 1 (II)
Reinforced Scales: Level 2 (II)
Advanced Flight: Level 3 (II)
Rich Respiration: Level 4 (II)
Breath of Shadows: Level 7 (II)
Adaptive Grip: Level 3 (II)
Fla Jet: Level 3 (II)
Advanced Mana Manipulation: Level 7 (II)
Advanced Core Stabilization: Level 5 (II)
Constrict: Level 2 (I)
Exclusive Skills:
Transformation: Level 2 (I)
Lightning Affinity: Level 4 (I)
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Dark Affinity: Level 2 (I)
Techniques (1/1):
Phantom Dragon Dance: Level 4 (I)
Mutations:
Eyes: Focusing Lenses, Peripheral Optimization (III)
Claws: Claw Flexibility, Razor-Edge Claws (III)
Scales: Colour Adaptation, Shock-Absorbent Scales (III)
Wings: Hollow Bones, Mana-Infused Fibers (III)
Legs: Joint Flexibility, Mana-Responsive Cartilage (III)
Fire Gland: Mana Reservoir, Mana Conservation (III)
Macro-Trophic Sac: Stamina Surge Reservoir, Toxicity Neutralizer (III)
Mana Conduit Vasculature: Micro-Mana Control, Mana Conduit Resilience (III)
Dinsional Lamina: Resonance-Stabilizing mbranes, Phase Microfilant Clusters (III)
Dinsional Convergence Tendrils: Reactive Tendrils, Refined Neural Pathways (III)
Resources:
Skill Points: 37
Morphogens: 76
My gaze darted across the familiar layout, scanning for the anomaly. Hmm. Aside from the Alignnt addition and a shiny new section titled Alignnt Skills, nothing else seed obviously out of place. Thunder Verdict was already there, clear as day—a spell I’d literally felt etching itself into my skull earlier. But now, a gnawing thought clawed at . I closed my eyes and focused inward, turning my attention to the volatile mana storm that had been thrashing inside re monts ago. The sensation of sothing carving into my core hadn’t just been so fever dream.
I’ve always been aware of my core—not in a visual sense, but instinctively. It’s like the pulse of your heart—if you could actually feel its every beat vibrating in your chest. Okay, maybe not the sharpest analogy, but you get the idea. My mana was what tethered to it, always has been. It’s how I knew its form: a jagged, asymtric black crystal lodged in my chest. But now?
Now, it was different.
The black had been replaced with an electric, crackling yellow, a hue so vibrant it almost felt alive. And it wasn’t just the color that had changed. As I probed it with my mana, I could feel intricate engravings etched onto its surface. Tiny, impossibly detailed markings—like a microscopic spell circle that looped endlessly. The sheer number of runes felt almost overwhelming, especially considering how small the space they occupied was. Yet, as my mind tried to decode the patterns, recognition struck.
The runes mirrored Thunder Verdict. The exact spell that had just nested itself in my mind was now physically etched into my core.
But why? Why the hell was this thing carved into my very essence? The question lingered, but answers hovered frustratingly out of reach. A few theories sprang to mind, but testing them would have to wait. First, I had a far more imdiate concern: the tar-like muck clinging to , reeking like sothing that crawled out of the abyss and shat—twice—on my precious sheets.
Oh, Thalador, the sll!
Grimacing, I peeled off the offending ss with the help of Belle, who, to my horror, was not pleased. Her chirps of indignation were sharper than her claws. Extra biscuits would be required to smooth things over. And as if my humiliation wasn’t already at peak capacity, the sticky black sludge had seeped into the lower mattress. Fantastic.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled a long, weary sigh. This was going to be one of those days.
***
I wrenched open the tiny window above my bed, welcoming a gust of brisk morning air in a dood attempt to battle the clinging stench of death and tar in my dorm room. It didn’t do much, but at least I could pretend it helped while Belle squawked her indignation like the world's tiniest, angriest critic.
“Yes, I know it stinks,” I snapped, wrestling the sheets—ruined beyond salvation—into a laundry sack that was, frankly, one insult away from disintegrating. The black stains seed to glare back at as if daring the laundress to complain. She would, of course. She always did, and I didn’t bla her. Alchemical mishaps had left with a reputation, though I suspected the sll didn’t help smooth things over. “I didn't exactly plan this explosion of filth, you know.”
Belle let out a sharp, judgntal squee, pointing her claws at like an outraged magistrate. She hated when my experints went sideways, mostly because it ant she’d have to dig out her miniature cleaning cloth. Watching her wield that thing was hilarious—but I wisely kept my laughter internal.
“I hear you,” I sighed, shaking my head. “And I would learn cleaning spells, but who has the ti?” Procrastination was my oldest, dearest frenemy.
Belle scurried off and returned with her tiny cloth, chirping pointedly as if to remind of my inadequacies. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a hero. If you’re gonna help, then help. Otherwise, save the sass for soone who cares.”
I grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the wardrobe. First priority: de-stinkify myself.
As I strapped on my bracer, a flicker of mana pulsed through . My draconic features lted away—tentacles shrinking, talons softening into dainty fingers, claws vanishing into human feet. Only my horns stubbornly remained, because of course they did.
The hallway outside was rcifully deserted, still steeped in the pre-dawn quiet. Most of the other apprentices wouldn’t stir for another hour, giving precious ti to avoid awkward encounters and the inevitable barrage of questions. Belle, still stewing in her indignation, decided to tag along, chirping sothing about scouting ahead.
“Oh, sure, Scoutmaster Belle,” I muttered. “Make sure no one witnesses my walk of sha.” Not that I needed her intel—Air Sense was already feeding a steady stream of information. Still, I let her have her mont.
The bathhouse wasn’t far, but the sack in my arms betrayed with faint black drips trailing in my wake. Thalador take . I groaned internally. Another problem for future .
Belle darted ahead and peeked around the corner before chirping her all-clear. “Squee!”
“Good work, General,” I whispered, slipping inside like a thief in the night.
The bathhouse was a temple of tranquility, its stone walls echoing with the soft trickle of running water. Wooden benches lined the edges, and tiled pools of steaming water beckoned from across the room. If there was one thing civilization got right, it was bathhouses—especially ones enchanted to keep the water warm, purify the air, and a dozen other delightful conveniences I couldn’t na but thoroughly appreciated.
I dumped the sack in a corner and shed my tunic faster than you could say “alchemy disaster.” With a triumphant little yip, I cannonballed into the nearest pool, sending a wave sloshing over the sides. Belle’s frantic chirping echoed behind .
“SQUEE!”
“Oh, relax! It’s fun. You should try it!”
To my surprise, she hesitated only briefly before taking the plunge herself. I grinned in approval. She was learning from the best, after all.
The water was bliss. Warmth seeped into my chilled bones as the filth began to dissolve, swirling away in murky tendrils. Belle paddled around gleefully, her earlier outrage forgotten.
“You know,” I said, scrubbing at a stubborn patch of ichor on my arm, “if you really wanted to be helpful, you could grab a towel.”
Belle froze, her beady eyes narrowing in betrayal. Then, with dramatic flair, she turned her back on and floated away.
“Figures,” I muttered, sinking deeper into the water.
***
After flipping the mattress upside down—because, by Thalador, what else could I do with the poor thing?—I decided it might just be ti to accept defeat and petition for a new one.
The early morning darkness was still thick, made deeper by the fresh layer of snow outside. I adjusted the notebook on my desk, the faint glow of my mana-lamp barely illuminating my scribbles. Belle perched on the edge of the table, watching with that expectant, judge-y stare of hers.
I had work to do. Specifically, I needed to test a theory about Thunder Verdict. The spell wasn’t exactly beginner-friendly—it involved manipulating neuron charges in a way that could, theoretically, make soone’s limbs jerk uncontrollably. A flick of their hand here, a stumble of their legs there. The concept on paper was elegant. The execution? I had no clue yet.
Which is where Belle ca in.
“Don’t look at like that,” I muttered. “You’re my most reliable test subject.”
She chirped in protest but didn’t move. That was as good as consent, right?
I was just about to focus my mana when a yawn crept out of my mouth, slow and unexpected.
Wait, what?
My eyes blinked heavily, and I rubbed them with the back of my hand. Sleepy? But why? A faint unease stirred in my gut. Sure, it wasn’t overwhelming—just an annoying pull at the edges of my awareness—but it shouldn’t have been there at all.
I’d just slept a few hours ago. And ever since I’d taken on this draconic form, my need for sleep had practically evaporated. Unless I was ntally overclocking myself, I could go a week without batting an eye.
But now? Now, there was this…wrongness.
My gaze snapped toward the window, instincts on high alert. The curtains swayed faintly from the cold air outside, their motion far too ordinary for my growing paranoia.
Was I overthinking this? Maybe whatever happened to my core had drained my ntal reserves, making more tired than usual? Still, the unease didn’t fade.
I shook my head, pushing the creeping discomfort aside. Whether I was overreacting or not, I wasn’t about to curl up and give in. No way. Not when there was work to be done.
Focus.
I returned to my notes, summoning the intricate details of Thunder Verdict from the depths of my mind. Whatever this weird fatigue was, it could wait. Right now, it was ti to experint.
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