Before stepping into the private courtyard of his assigned house, John finalized the arrangements for dinner with Elara and Anya, promising to meet them later that evening. With a brief farewell, they parted ways, each heading towards their respective dormitories. Once inside the secluded courtyard, the heavy wooden door closing behind him with a soft thump, John finally had a chance to speak freely with Max. “So, Max,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “what’s your take on all of this? This place feels more like something out of a fantasy novel than a setting for cultivation. I mean, elves, dwarves, beast kin…it’s a lot to take in. Plus,” he added with a sigh, “I couldn’t exactly have a conversation with you in front of everyone without raising a few eyebrows. Thankfully, the sudden appearance of all those crows provided a convenient distraction.” Max’s voice, calm and analytical as always, responded in his mind. “You’re correct, John. The crows are providing a useful cover for our communications, at least for the time being. As for your initial question, I’ve been discreetly monitoring the conversations of the surrounding crowds, gathering and analyzing the various snippets of information they’ve been sharing. I’ll filter through the data and extract any relevant details that might be of use to us.” After their brief exchange, John decided to freshen up and change into his new Academy uniform. He knew it would likely be quite some time before he would actually sit down for that promised dinner, but he wanted to be prepared.

  Deciding to start with some physical conditioning, John began his familiar routine of fly-chi exercises. He performed push-ups until his arms burned with exertion, the cool stone of the courtyard pressing against his palms. He then moved on to sit-ups, feeling the satisfying pull in his abdominal muscles. Next came lunges, each step measured and precise, his movements flowing smoothly from one to the next. The fly-rod felt comfortable and familiar in his hand, a comforting weight against his palm, but the fear of damaging it in the unfamiliar environment of the Academy held him back from fully incorporating it into his martial arts practice. For now, the familiar movements of tai-chi would have to suffice. John, still relatively inexperienced in actual combat situations, was unsure of which skills he should prioritize. Max’s voice echoed in his mind, offering a suggestion. “John,” Max said, his tone calm and measured, “I have access to some advanced tai-chi techniques that could prove quite useful in your training. I managed to save several video recordings of them before we arrived here.” “Alright,” John replied, a spark of interest igniting in his eyes. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He closed his eyes, focusing his attention inward as Max began to project the video recordings into his mind. He watched an elderly man, his movements surprisingly agile despite his age, execute a flawless one-handed handstand, holding the position with effortless grace before transitioning into a swift, sweeping leg maneuver. The move was reminiscent of a character from the video game Street Fighter, a powerful Jamaican fighter known for his acrobatic kicks. This observation sparked an idea within John, a vision of how he could incorporate similar movements into his own fighting style, creating a more fluid and unpredictable combat flow.

  Lost in the flow of his leg sweeps and hand flips, John was completely oblivious to the passage of time until a sharp rap at the courtyard door jolted him back to reality. “Oh, no,” he muttered to himself, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “It’s dinner time already.” As he opened the heavy wooden door, a look of surprise crossed his face when he saw only Elara and Anya standing there. “Are we too early?” Anya asked, her voice light and questioning. “No, not at all,” John replied, offering a warm smile. “I was just so focused on my training that I completely lost track of time.” “What about the others?” Elara inquired, glancing around as if expecting to see the rest of the group. “They won’t be joining us tonight,” Anya explained. “They mentioned something about intensive training sessions and said they’d catch up with us later.” John nodded understandingly. “Alright then,” he said, stepping out into the cool evening air. “Let’s go find some food. I’m starving.” As the girls turned to lead the way, John followed, falling into step beside them. “So,” he asked casually, “where are we headed? Is there a central dining hall or something?”

  “Anya,” John corrected gently, a small smile playing on his lips. “We could certainly try that sometime, but I’m particularly intrigued by your fishing method,” Elara commented, her brow furrowed in thought. “Is…fish palatable?” Alana asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. John’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’ve never had fish?” he asked, his voice incredulous. Alana shook her head, her expression conveying a mixture of confusion and mild disgust. “The consumption of fish is a rather…alien concept to me,” she explained. “Why would one consume creatures of the water when the flesh of land-dwelling animals is so rich with readily accessible spirit energy?” John paused for a moment, considering her perspective. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “that’s about to change. Today, I’m going to introduce you to the wonders of freshwater fish. We’ll head out of the city, upstream along the river. I know a perfect spot for fishing. And,” he added with a wink, “I also plan to catch a few extra for my feathered friends.” The two elven maidens, their curiosity piqued, trailed closely behind him as he led the way out of the Academy grounds and towards the city gates.

  “I am of the high elves, as you may have already surmised,” Anya began, her voice softening slightly, a hint of vulnerability entering her tone. “To the outside world, my existence may appear to be one of effortless perfection. My lineage is steeped in ancient wealth and bound by countless strange traditions that I am expected to hold sacred. But,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “if I’m to be completely honest with you…it’s all rather…tedious.” A sigh escaped her lips. “I yearn for something…more. Something…different. Something…real. That’s the truth of it. That’s the real reason I find myself drawn to the depths of a dungeon.” Elara nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar sentiment. “Some high elves may believe they lead idyllic lives, free from hardship and strife,” she chimed in, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness. “But that’s simply not the case for everyone. My family, too, wields considerable influence and adheres to its own strict set of edicts. But I refuse to let them dictate the course of my life. There has to be more to existence than just lavish gatherings and archaic rituals, don’t you think?”

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  John understood their sentiments, but his curiosity about the dungeons remained undiminished. He was eager to learn more about the challenges that lay ahead. “So,” he asked, directing his question to both of them, “tell me more about these dungeons. What exactly can I expect to find down there?” Alana took the lead, providing a detailed explanation. “When you successfully complete the first level of a dungeon,” she began, her voice clear and informative, “a number from one to nine will manifest on the back of your left hand. This mark serves as a record of your progress. As you progress through each subsequent level, your cultivation will be significantly enhanced, allowing you to grow stronger and more proficient in your chosen talents. The rewards you receive are tailored to each individual’s unique journey on a given floor, meaning what you find might be different from what another adventurer finds. It’s important to remember that you must enter the dungeons alone—no groups, teams, or parties are permitted. Your own unique skills and abilities are what will determine your success or failure. After successfully clearing a floor, you have a choice: you can either claim the beast cores you’ve acquired and leave the dungeon, or you can choose to press on to the next level. You are free to revisit any level you have previously cleared to train or gather more resources, but once you choose to advance to a new floor, there is no turning back. You must either succeed or fail; there is no option to retreat. Keep that in mind,” she emphasized, her tone becoming more serious. “Additionally, if you manage to conquer several floors in a single attempt without leaving the dungeon, you will earn bonus rewards based on the highest floor you have reached. However,” she added, her voice laced with a note of warning, “many adventurers fall victim to their own ambition in this regard, attempting to clear multiple levels at once in pursuit of the greatest prizes. This often leads to their downfall.”

  As the trio passed through the imposing city gates, leaving the bustling city behind, a pair of familiar crows swooped down from the sky, their dark wings beating the air with a soft whoosh, before landing gracefully on John’s shoulders. “Well, hello again, you two,” John greeted them warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. With thoughts of a delicious fish dinner now firmly planted in his mind, he scanned the surrounding landscape, his eyes searching for an ideal fishing spot. Spotting a promising bend in the river nearby, he stopped abruptly. In a swift, almost magical motion, his fly-rod materialized in his hands, the smooth, cool handle fitting perfectly in his grip. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he whipped the rod back and forth three times, the line whistling through the air as it unspooled. With a final, deft flick, the fly landed softly on the surface of the water, creating barely a ripple. Almost instantly, a large, silvery fish took the bait, the line snapping taut. John engaged in a spirited battle with the robust fish, his muscles straining as he expertly reeled it in. After a brief but exciting struggle, he triumphantly brought the fish ashore, its scales gleaming in the afternoon sun. He quickly gathered some fallen branches and smooth, flat stones, arranging them carefully to construct a makeshift fire ring by the edge of the river. With a small dab of fire gel from a pouch at his belt, he sparked a fire with a simple flick of his finger, the flames leaping to life in an instant. “What is that stuff?” Anya asked, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. “How did it ignite so quickly?” Alana gasped; her voice filled with awe. “It’s…magic!” John simply smiled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just a little trick,” he replied with a shrug. He then proceeded to skillfully prepare the fish, cleaning and gutting it with practiced ease before placing it carefully on a flat, heated stone to cook over the crackling flames.

  The tantalizing aroma of cooking fish began to waft through the air, catching Anya and Alana completely off guard. They exchanged surprised glances, their noses twitching slightly as they tried to identify the unfamiliar scent. John, noticing their curiosity, smiled and explained that he was adding a few simple seasonings. He sprinkled the cooking fish with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper, the subtle spices adding another layer to the already enticing aroma. Spotting a nearby pine tree, he plucked a few fragrant needles and carefully scattered them over the fish, explaining that they would impart a unique, earthy flavor. As the fish continued to cook over the crackling fire, the scent grew even more intense, filling the air with a smoky, savory fragrance that was both unfamiliar and strangely appealing. John, ever the resourceful fisherman, returned to the river’s edge, casting his line once more. Within a short ten minutes, the first fish was cooked to perfection, its skin crispy and golden brown, the flesh flaky and white. In that same short span of time, John had also managed to catch four more fish, a testament to his skill and the abundance of the river. He quickly skewered the newly caught fish on sharpened branches and carefully placed them around the fire, allowing them to roast slowly over the glowing embers.