Jace was tempted to interfere, but he let the fight run its course. He didn’t know who was at fault, and he didn’t particularly care. These people weren’t in need of protection, best he could tell.

  At least, at the moment. If there was no easy answer, then he’d better not try to give an answer.

  After they finished eating, they stood up. They returned their trays to the counter, then walked back toward the exit.

  Halfway across the hall, another young man stepped into their path. He was tall but slender, with slicked-back brown hair, fair skin, a pristine uniform, and elven ears. Was he…actually an elf?

  But Jace wasn’t planning on making enemies by asking awkward questions. He stepped around the guy, trying to get out of the way, and partially knowing it wouldn’t work. He’d come over here on a mission.

  “Long time no see, Min,” the boy said. “Found yourself some new friends?”

  “In fact, we just met,” Min said. “I see you’re alone as ever, Varril.”

  The maybe-elf huffed, then said, “I’m comfortable on my own, now. I came to bid you…best of luck in your entrance exam. And a bit of advice for your new friends—don’t think Min isn’t going to turn his back on you at the first chance he gets. That’s the way he’s always done things. Foundation School, Soul School, it was always the same.”

  Jace noted the rank badge on the boy’s chest. A Nascent Heart, already. As the tag above his head read, he was a [Level 65 Wielder].

  “Cool,” Jace said, then kept on walking. If there was any sign that someone was untrustworthy, coming up to you out of the blue and warning you about someone like Min, who was probably one of the nicest guys here…was either a very generous thing to do, or, more likely, an untrustworthy thing.

  “It’ll be the death of you,” the maybe-elf, Varril, said. His voice was still calm, even as they walked away.

  When they reached the door, Jace asked, “What was that about?”

  “Varril’s no good,” Min whispered. “I knew him from the sector schools, growing up. An old friend, but we had a falling out. In Soul School.”

  “Is he actually an elf?” Lessa asked. “Or…just something that looks like them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a young elf before. Well, alright, I’ve only seen one in-person, the rest were pictures. But they’re always, like thirty. Or forty. Somewhere in there. It’s hard to peg their age when they’re like two thousand years old.”

  Min chuckled. “Varril’s still young. He’s only…twenty two? But yes, he’s an elf. From a long family, they’re woodplanet-ians. Silkspinners, farming dynasties, that sort of thing. His family is wealthy enough to send him here, though.”

  Jace cast one glance back at the cafeteria, watching Varril. He stared at them as they walked away.

  “He’s Intelligence, for sure,” Min said.

  “You think he’s passing the entrance exam?” Jace whispered.

  “No doubt about it.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The next two weeks were agony. Both metaphorically and literally. Being early didn’t help the wait for the exam, but Jace spent his time as best he could preparing. He didn’t have a steady source of Aes, and he didn’t really have the advice to get through Soul-Circle Blending—he just didn’t know what he actually needed to do to his core or soul to advance—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare.

  Using the stolen Vault-Core, he practiced for days on end, entering the Vault, using the Split to send an impression of him across the galaxy. It placed him in the same forest, against the same undead darkling griffons. Clearly, whatever the infestation was, it was still there. He hadn’t dealt with the elite darkling in their midst, and the Vault was going to keep using him until it had achieved its goals.

  Which was fine by him. Clearly, the darklings weren’t doing any good out there, and if they were threatening the local life, be it living animals, or humans, he was doing no good leaving it alive.

  Over the next two weeks, he practiced chaining his cards. He practiced socketing and unsocketing them, and feeding them to LeeKay to reduce their cooldowns, then resocketing them.

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  Most importantly, he practiced using [Questforger] to anticipate the griffons’ movements. They charged, and he dodged. Their speed…while it didn’t change relative to his, he knew exactly where they were going to be, and he was already out of the way.

  But in the end, something still got him. Whether it was a charging griffon, or the shockwave from one of their immense dives, they knocked him around enough that he had to leave—or, more appropriately, Lessa had to pull him out.

  It was only at the end of the second week that he finally had a shot at the elite darkling. He’d gotten better at timing his cards, but moreover, he’d gotten better at timing the griffons’ attacks. He could save [Questforger] for deeper within the vault.

  It also didn’t hurt that he was getting better at using his Whistling Blade. That couldn’t hurt at all.

  But today was the last chance he’d get before their entrance exam. It was late in the evening, and he’d have to go to sleep soon.

  Lessa said, You kept the Questforger card ready, didn’t you? You’ll need it against this guy.

  Jace hadn’t seen the elite darkling yet, but he was approaching a clearing. There was a rock at the center, and though all he could see was an enormous black talon clinging to the rock, he was pretty sure he knew what it belonged to. He ran as fast as he could, holding his blade out ahead of him. There were a couple griffons on his tail, but he didn’t want to use any more technique cards if he didn’t have to.

  He stumbled into the central clearing, then looked up. An undead griffon, about twice the size of a horse, stood on the rock. It tilted its head up to the sky, let out a shrill cry, then snapped its head toward Jace.

  Unlike the other griffons, it had no eyes.

  Well, that’s…ugh, I can’t… Lessa made a fake retching noise.

  “No one told you to watch,” Jace whispered.

  Min’s here, and he wants to know what’s going on.

  Of course, they couldn’t get around it without the help of Min. Jace wasn’t going to only use the Vault Core when Min was out of the room, so they had to explain that it was a gift from Jace’s father, for training.

  The lesser undead griffons chasing Jace quickly turned on their heels at the cry of the larger griffon, then took flight into the sky. That seemed to be a common trait among darklings, and those affected by the dark. If the head is in danger, flee. If it dies, you’ll die. If it wins, it’ll hurt you for trying to take its winnings.

  Jace swallowed, then looked the creature in the empty, tar-dripping eye sockets. It tossed its head, then leapt down off the rock and slunk toward him, closing the distance. The clearing was about a hundred paces wide—human paces—which didn’t give Jace much room to retreat.

  A tag appeared above its head: [Level 76 Elite Darkling].

  “Well, let’s give this a try,” he muttered. He flourished his blade, then immediately, activated [Questforger]. He didn’t know if this griffon had anything special, and he couldn’t judge its speed and strength right away.

  But the Split could.

  At first, the technique bounced off. He couldn’t explain it, but it was like throwing a rubber ball at the wall.

  [Questforger] was a curse. It required Potency.

  And they’d enhanced [Lightvein] to increase his Potency. He activated the Fortification card, then a moment later, activated [Questforger].

  This time, it stuck.

  He didn’t need a fancy technique to show him that the zombie griffon was pouncing, though. He darted to the side, then, imagining the technique, he envisioned a scenario in his mind, running his options against the griffon.

  It didn’t know about his dashes. He could confuse it, bewilder it, then dart in.

  But it was level seventy-six. It was much, much faster than him. The moment he tried to get on its back to stab it, it would swat him off, and it’d be over.

  He dodged another pawswipe, then another, using the card to envision where they would strike before they hit.

  Sometimes, though, the simplest solution was the best. It wasn’t expecting him to fling his sword at lightspeed, and it wasn’t dodging that, either. With how strong he was, he’d surely pierce its flesh—especially considering [Lightvein] was active.

  He triggered [Wanderer’s Banishment], flinging the sword, then chased after it with a Hyperdash. In a flash, the blade pierced into the griffon’s throat and launched it back across the clearing, piercing so deep it only left the handle visible.

  Jace caught up with a hyperdash, then snatched onto the hilt. Immediately, he used a hyperdash to pass through the griffon’s neck and appear unhindered on the other side. In the air, he twisted, and flung the sword back down through the back of the beast’s neck, piercing the dark core it carried and sending the beast skidding through the mud.

  Again, he dashed after it, reaching the ground and landing on its shoulders in a crouch. He delivered one last cut down its back, but it was already decaying into black dust.

  Jace staggered to the side, panting to catch his breath. The world faded away, darkening, and a rush of gold dust poured into his chest.

  When he emerged from the Vault Core and the dreamspace, he was unharmed but exhausted. Lessa caught him in a hug and exclaimed, “You did it! A beast twenty—no, thirty levels higher!”

  “Y—yeah…” Jace exhaled. That was pretty good, wasn’t it?

  “You must be…a prodigy,” Min breathed. “Where did you say you were from again?”

  They had, of course, told Min their tale about plasma-aspect Wielders.

  Jace couldn’t check his status at the moment, not with Min watching, but he was almost certain he’d levelled up himself. He caught his breath, then turned to Lessa and said, “Thanks. Are you feeling…ready for tomorrow?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied.

  “I’m feeling ready too!” Min said. “In case anyone was wondering.”

  They gave him a smile, then said, “We figured you were.”