“What is it?” I asked.

  “The spell exchange program.” Tyler handed me a paper that showed the spell exchange schedule. The program allowed people to trade their spells for learning credits that they could trade for other spells they wanted, or to trade directly with someone. It was illegal outside of Galpher’s Gate, as it challenged the ruling class’s hegemony, but in Wraithwood, we used soul pacts and institutions to limit the influence of physical power, so we wanted people to get stronger.

  Despite its potential, that sheet was always empty—but the sheet Tyler gave me was so full that the recorders had to write in small print.

  “So it’s finally caught on, huh?” I muttered.

  “Caught on? It was dead a few weeks ago.”

  “What happ… oh.”

  “Yeah, oh,” he said clownishly. “Everyone in the last batch thought they were the hottest shit there was besides Aiden. I ran this, did that. They were constantly sizing each other up, and there was always dueling. And when people lost, they hid their spells harder. But then your video came out, and everyone was like, Holy shit! Dranta’s twice my strength, and he got trounced like a spoiled child. I’d be screwed! Now everyone’s banding together to try to beat Dranda.”

  Dranda was standing not that far away, and perked up.

  Tyler saw that he was with the group, and his face drained of color. “Woah, you brought him?”

  “Yeah, I had to. I mean, he can’t hurt Wraithwood, but we need to keep his dueling in check.”

  “Or you could let it go! I mean, not really let go. Like he can’t kill anyone or anything. But if you had him here, this?” He slapped the piece of paper. “It would be the most popular program in existence. If we want real power, we need Dranda here.”

  Dranda walked over and looked at me. He didn’t speak, but he looked interested.

  “Soul pact says you won’t recklessly endanger lives during duels, and you can stay,” I said. “You tried to kill me with your first attack, and any of your wind blades could do the same. You’re not dueling shit if you don—”

  “I’ll do it,” Dranda said.

  “Do you even understand how restrictive soul pacts can be?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. If I can duel all day with healers, and learn as many spells as I want…” He looked at the sheet of paper. “That’s a dream.”

  I puffed out my lower lip. “Okay then… Good show.” I looked at Tyler. “Now show us the goods.”

  He took us around the thriving city. By the end of it, I was very impressed. “You’ve done well.”

  “Thanks,” Tyler said hesitantly. “It’s mostly Trigan, but he’s teaching me everything and letting me make decisions. I can tell he’s not always pleased about them, but I usually only make matters regarding our culture. And I’m always like, trust me, this works in my world, and he’s like, if you say so.”

  “I don’t know whether you’re expressing excitement or justifying potential failures, but… good job?”

  “Both,” Tyler admitted.

  “You’re doing good, either way.”

  “Praise looks good on you.”

  “Horrible,” I corrected. “You’re doing absolutely horrible. That’s why I brought you another teacher.”

  His eyes dimmed when I introduced Sika. “Another teacher? So I’m still not doing good enough, huh…?”

  “And this is my teacher.” I presented Wedden. “They’re siblings with careers as distinguished as Malo. They’re exceptionally powerful, and have keen insights. Right now, Malo is playing a critical role, so I’m assigning them as people who can teach us, and speak and act in our stead when necessary.”

  “Woah… you’re asking people to teach you how to act?”

  “If there was someone who wasn’t critical before I would’ve done this a long time ago.”

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “Good, you need it… Desperately.”

  I rolled my eyes, but then I looked around and nodded in appreciation. “This is good… You don’t even know how much we needed this.” We only had a year to build our forces, and we could only accept a few thousand at a time.

  He nodded gravely. “I know.”

  “How many can we accept?”

  “I’m focusing on barracks and renovation. We’ll be able to hold five thousand next year.”

  “And we’ll hold two… seven thousand. We’re growing.”

  “Yeah, but… will it be enough?”

  “There’s no way. I’m almost wishing for the glaves to come. Then we could cut the shit and just start opening up the Bramble.”

  He frowned. “You think you can take them?”

  I took a deep breath. “They’re the only ones who scare me.” I paused and reflected. “Anyone who scares the multiverse has to be terrifying.”

  “Well, then you best start training.”

  I nodded. “I will.”

  Tyler turned. “Let’s check out your place.” He led me to a Jacksmore property. It was one of the elite properties, boasting a massive swimming pool and training rooms within. There was a weight-lifting set with plates that had to weigh a hundred pounds each. When we arrived at the room, I walked in and found Kai sitting in the corner of the bed.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Of course this is where you’d be.”

  “But of course,” Kai said. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

  “It’s been three weeks,” I said dryly. Despite rarely flaunting my relationship with Kai, I spent six months traveling back and forth between Rall’s Fort and Wraithwood with him.

  “Even one week is crippling. Make up for lost time?”

  I laughed weakly. The bed was the size I that pictured Persian princes using during the times of Ancient Greece and Macedon. It was too comical to take it seriously, but I gave in anyway. Then the summer began.

  Due to the critical juncture, I didn’t go to Helfine for training, aside from two one-week hunting expeditions, and oversaw the development of Rall’s Fort.

  Yaksa took over the army with far less tact than Malo, but that was necessary. Malo had developed trust with the soldiers over many years—but this commander had brand new soldiers who were all war heroes in their last galaxies. So everyone had an ego, and one had to reign over them. Tyler was a strong leader, but he was struggling to do so.

  Yaksa was the perfect addition.

  I watched her stand in front of the armies and say, “I’m Tyler Hill’s second in command; you will follow my orders. If you don’t follow my orders, you’ll have to fight me. And once you fight me, I won’t let you have a healer till the record threatens to leave you a cripple forever.”

  There were plenty of people who challenged her in the beginning days; she brutally destroyed them all.

  Yaksa was a speed-focused aura cutter. Not only did she have a lesser warp step equivalent, but she had mastered multiple diamond-grade acceleration techniques. She used that in conjunction with her aura slashes to kill people in the blink of an eye.

  Like Dranta, she had a problem fighting without killing someone, as her sword strikes sheared through everything. Steel, armor, magic—everything. They were made of sharpened aura and magic, allowing them to suppress magical effects, and she could slash twenty feet away. Her attacks were so fast that they looked like relatively normal strikes under Moxle Dilation, which now treated second evolution attacks like they were frozen in time. It was so rapid that no one could challenge her. She just blinked in and out of existence, and when time caught up, people had broken limbs.

  Unlike Dranta and Malo, who had humble backgrounds, Yaksa and the Iaska siblings had both been born into wealth and resources. The difference was that while the Iaska siblings’ family had been conquered when they were young and ended up integrating with the enemy under soul pacts, Yaksa was just a famous general who had become estranged from her family over her career. In short, she didn’t have a sob story; she came to Wraithwood simply because she wanted glory—and had the ability to go there.

  As a result of this upbringing, Yaksa had obtained an ultra-pure core, relatively speaking, and had all the resources and training to become unbelievably strong—something she continued to ruthlessly pursue for decades.

  Yaksa wasn’t special in any way, shape, or form. The multiverse was just large—and someone had to be on top amongst the elites.

  Yaksa was that person.

  It didn’t take long for people to learn that there was an alpha among them. Many were disgruntled, so they continued the spell exchange and fought Dranda in hopes of beating her.

  That didn’t work so well for them.

  Even without his siege spells, Dranda was so ruthless in battle that it caused ninety-five percent of the soldiers to give up completely. I initially regretted letting him in, but the five percent remaining became strong so fast that people perked up again. At the very least, people could battle the improving people.

  Many wanted Yaksa and Dranda to fight—

  But I forbid it.

  Things were good—I didn’t want to change that.

  By the end of summer, we were ahead of schedule, having housing for five thousand. I decided to bring my parents to Rall’s Fort and spent more time with them as we finished building it.

  Then the harvest came—

  And the First Domain was in turmoil. Over ten thousand new people had come through Theovale, the closest city to Areswood and the city of the legacies, and every port was overwhelmed. Every restaurant, suite, and store was packed. The profits were astronomical, but it didn’t mean much when there was social strife.

  Theovale was a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding—and the atmosphere was rife with politics. War was coming, and everyone was taking a side.