Dean Lopez had been feeling rather vexed of late. On a whimsical impulse, she had accepted a disciple, only for him, scarcely days later, to vanish toward the Eastern Coast under the pretense of "self-improvement."
Her concern, however, did not dwell on his safety—after all, Elinor had been swept along as well. Nor was she worried about the upcoming assessment; she had witnessed Jody and Elinor sparring several times, and even Jody's small innovations had sparked her own inspiration.
No, her irritation stemmed from a far simpler frustration: with Jody gone, she was once again relegated to the mundane fare of the academy kitchen. Compared to Jody's meals, it was insipid, joyless, utterly tasteless. She longed for hot pot, marinated dishes, roasted meats…
As she sat in her office, mouth watering at the memory, a knock came at the door.
"Dean, a royal envoy has arrived," said Vice Dean Yin, bowing as he presented a gilded letter.
With a graceful gesture, Lopez pointed, and the envelope floated from Yin's hands, the wax seal breaking midair as the letter unfolded before her. She read silently for a moment before another flick of her hand erased it entirely—no trace, not even ash, remained.
"This year, for the academy's assessment, the Second Prince wishes to observe," she told Yin. "Ensure arrangements are meticulous."
The vice dean inclined slightly before departing.
"Finally, the Second Prince cannot sit idle…" Lopez muttered softly.
Every year, the royal family dispatched representatives to observe the academy's examinations. Ostensibly an observation, the true purpose was to scout for prodigious talent, negotiating ahead so that promising students might enter the royal mage corps upon graduation—a formalized talent acquisition akin to civil service recruitment.
Previously, the envoys were typically the court's chief mages or the emperor's stewards. This marked the first time a prince himself had chosen to attend.
Meanwhile, Jody was far too occupied to consider royal politics. The ocean's elements were at his command: sodium salts, magnesium salts, and their elemental forms; liquid chlorine, sulfuric acid, hydrochloric acid—his storage space was nearly full.
The most remarkable prize, however, was an unexpected one: a magic crystal. Far more difficult to craft than he had imagined, it was only by using the octopus monster's crystal as a template that he could replicate its molecular lattice. To his delight, the purity of his creation exceeded that of naturally dropped crystals, and its value would doubtless be incalculable.
Ten days passed in a blur. Between refining substances, Jody also took moments to glean insights into martial cultivation from Cain and White. The father and son had agreed without hesitation to become his attendants. With no promising prospects in the imperial palace guard and no influential connections, serving a mage presented a far more advantageous path.
Though puzzled by Jody's request, they did not object. Their martial methods were common, uninremarkable, and they imparted all they knew with candor: insights, techniques, and lessons learned from missteps, much to Jody's satisfaction.
Elinor, however, was less than pleased. She had observed Jody's prodigious magical talent and knew that a dedicated pursuit of magic promised boundless potential. His sudden interest in martial cultivation seemed a frivolous distraction.
Yet Jody's explanation gave her pause: "Senior, I believe we mages have long neglected the cultivation of the body. We focus solely on mental power, leaving our physical forms weak—an Achilles' heel easily exploited by others. Look at Wind Elder and Vice Dean Yin: one a skeleton, the other corpulent. Is that the future you desire?"
The remark struck a chord. The prospect of becoming either a skeletal wraith or a rotund figure made Elinor shudder, and she relinquished her objections.
For these ten days, Elinor had hoped to discern Jody's activities, but he insisted she maintain vigilance, citing the possibility of wandering magical beasts. Naturally reluctant at first, she stood watch only after Jody presented her with a glistening magic crystal.
Jody did not reveal that he could now craft such crystals at will, merely telling her that he had refined a dropped crystal into this exemplary form—a small token of gratitude for her accompaniment.
Elinor infused her magic into the crystal, astonished to find its storage capacity had more than doubled. Alarmed, she warned, "Junior, this is no trivial matter. Once word spreads, many will covet it. Possessing this power could bring more trouble than you anticipate."
Jody, heart warmed by her concern, teased lightly: "What is there to fear? You and Master are here, after all."
Elinor rolled her eyes, clutching the crystal tightly as she resumed her distant watch.
Just as Jody prepared to conclude, a thought struck him, prompting renewed activity. He recalled a deadly poison from his previous life: cyanide—the kind spies bite to end their lives in seconds.
The chemistry was simple: a cyanide ion of carbon and nitrogen. He had previously attempted it at the academy but, lacking mastery over metals, could only produce volatile hydrogen cyanide—a risk too great for careless experimentation.
Now, however, he crafted sufficient sodium cyanide, storing it safely in his inventory.
With only a few days remaining until the academy's assessment, Jody preferred to leave a margin of preparation. Though the journey to the coast had taken but two days, he meticulously organized his haul, prepared to return with Elinor, and instructed Cain and White to settle near the academy until he summoned them. Obedient, the father and son promised immediate compliance.
Thus, Jody and Elinor readied themselves to depart once more.