Jamie offered a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting a steadfast confidence that seemed to bolster the very air around them. "Absolutely," he affirmed, his voice steady and encouraging. "Let's see what your new class is capable of."

Thomas bowed slightly as he accepted the coins. "Yes, sir," he replied earnestly, his gaze filled with determination.

"Excellent," Jamie said, nodding approvingly. "But remember, I'll still need you in two to three days. Use those potions to advance your quest as much as possible."

"No problem," Thomas assured him with a firm nod. Without further delay, he exited the room, the wooden door closing gently behind him.

--

Over the next two days, Thomas was scarcely seen at the Golden Fiddle. He immersed himself wholly in his training, pushing himself to the brink as he endeavored to fulfill the requirements of his quest. The only times he crossed paths with his companions were during their customary morning drills, where they honed their skills and coordinated as a team. Even then, his interactions were brief.

On the third day, as wisps of mist curled through the cobblestone streets, Thomas arrived to accompany Jamie to the Imperial Academy. The early morning air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of merchants setting up their stalls and seagulls calling over the harbor. Thomas's attire was neat but bore the marks of his recent efforts, slightly scuffed boots, a faint tear in his sleeve, and hands adorned with fresh calluses and healing blisters.

"How are you holding up?" Jamie inquired, a hint of concern threading through his casual tone as he eyed Thomas's weary appearance.

"Tired," Thomas admitted, offering a weary but genuine smile. "But I'm making progress. The mana potions have been a tremendous help."

He glanced down at his hands, turning them over to examine the roughened skin. "Now, my biggest challenge is the physical exhaustion. I never realized how much a skill could drain from the body itself." His fingers flexed reflexively, the memory of countless hours gripping his sword etched into every ache and twinge.

As they spoke, Jamie's peripheral vision caught a series of translucent notifications shimmering into existence.

[The God of War is intrigued by the final outcome.]

[Several other gods are curious but choose to remain silent.]

[The God of Justice is enraged. Destiny is like a sentence; it should not be altered.]

Jamie read the messages with a detached amusement, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 'Well, if altering destiny ruffles some divine feathers, so be it,' he mused. 'I'm already operating outside the laws.'

Shaking off the thought, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. Spotting Camille arranging freshly polished tankards behind the bar, he approached her.

"Camille," he began, his tone casual yet purposeful. "I need you to look after the tavern while Thomas and I head to the Imperial Academy."

She glanced up, her eyes meeting his. There was a time when such responsibility might have unsettled her, but now she simply nodded. "No problem," she replied smoothly. "Eliza and I have everything under control."

Over the past few days, Camille had grown increasingly comfortable in the bustling Golden Fiddle. The initial walls of reserve she'd maintained were gradually lowering, thanks in no small part to Eliza's warm companionship. The two women had found a rhythm in their work and conversation, each subtly encouraging the other to open up.

Jamie and Thomas set out for the academy. They wore their usual attire, the practical garb they donned for matters concerning the mercenary company. Sturdy boots scuffed from countless miles, trousers tucked for ease of movement, and shirts layered under well-worn leather jerkins. Their clothes were devoid of any ostentation, favoring functionality over flair, suitable for the unpredictable turns of a battlefield rather than the grand halls of academia.

The cobblestone streets of the Commercial Quarter stretched before them, lined with shops.

The Imperial Academy loomed ahead, a stately edifice of stone and glass nestled amidst manicured gardens. Its spires reached skyward, piercing the blue canopy above, and banners bearing the crest of Hafenstadt fluttered in the gentle wind. The academy's grounds were expansive, bordering the main avenue and only a short distance from the headquarters of the Hafenstadt Guard.

"I've done some basic research," Jamie began, his tone casual yet inquisitive. "But as someone who studied there, can you tell me more about how the academy works?"

Thomas glanced at him thoughtfully, adjusting the satchel strap slung over his shoulder. "Well," he started, considering his words. "The academy's program lasts three years. You can enroll at any time before you turn twenty. Whether you have a class or not, you're eligible to join. For many, it's more advantageous to enroll after they've obtained their class; it offers a safe environment to level up and refine their abilities."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Jamie nodded, the crowds of pedestrians ebbing and flowing around them. "Makes sense," he remarked. "It's what I've gathered from conversations here and there."

They navigated past a cluster of street performers—a trio of minstrels strumming lively tunes, drawing a small crowd. Children darted between the adults, laughter punctuating the morning air.

Thomas continued, "However, if you're from a less affluent background, it's often better to enroll before you receive your class. It makes it easier to stand out because, let's face it, it's unlikely that someone from the Lower Quarter will have a rare or legendary class."

Jamie agreed. "I see."

Thomas continued "There's nothing confirmed, but some rumors suggested that training before obtaining a class increases your chances of getting a better one. So, for those who don't have enough money to get a more expensive Cleric, it's worth going to the Academy."

Jamie was completely focused on Thomas when Jay suddenly appeared, jumping onto his shoulder. "These are just rumors. To this day, not even the gods have confirmed whether this makes any sense."

"So the academy serves as a sort of preparation for receiving a class," Jamie mused. "Then the less privileged try to enter the army. But why is it important for nobles?

"For the nobility, it serves both as a way to get to know other nobles and to build a track record. In some cases, they might secure an important position in this or another city, some even manage to enter the military as officers." Thomas explained, "It's all about opportunity. The academy is a melting pot. People from all walks of life come together, each with their ambitions."

Jamie considered this, his interest piqued. "What subjects do they teach? I know about combat training and general knowledge, but what else?"

A hint of enthusiasm entered Thomas's voice. "Well, the curriculum is quite comprehensive. Students attend classes on magical theory, combat concepts, general education, and monster lore. There's a strong emphasis on practical lessons as well."

Jamie shot him a curious glance. "Magical theory? Even for those without a class?"

"Absolutely," Thomas replied, a faint smile touching his lips. "It's important for everyone to learn how to manipulate mana from an early stage. Not only does it increase your chances of obtaining a better class, but it also helps expand your mana reserves. Even if someone doesn't become a mage, understanding how magic works can be invaluable."

Jamie paused for a moment, waiting for Jay to correct Thomas, but he said nothing. So it was probably true, the need to train mana.

"What happens during the practical classes?" Jamie asked as he finally saw the massive iron gates marking the entrance to the Imperial Academy. The gates soared above them, intricate metalwork intertwined with symbols of learning and power. Flanking the gates were towering walls that stretched nearly six city blocks, enclosing the expansive grounds dedicated solely to the institution.

"You'll see soon enough," Thomas replied, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "We should arrive while a class is still in session."

He pointed through the gaps in the colossal gate. Between the wrought iron bars, Jamie glimpsed glimpses of verdant courtyards and, in the distance, flashes of light erupting against a clear sky.

As they approached the entrance, two guards clad in Hafenstadt's official armor stepped forward. Their uniforms gleamed, the city's emblem embossed on their breastplates. Jamie handed over his summons. The guards examined it briefly, their expressions neutral, before nodding and stepping aside.

Embedded within the grand gate was a smaller, heavy, and ornate door, which one guard pushed open with effort. The hinges creaked softly, revealing the pathway beyond.

The moment Jamie crossed the threshold, a powerful gust of wind slammed into him, nearly causing him to lose his footing. He staggered slightly, bracing himself. In the near distance, a massive fireball arced into the sky before dissipating in a burst of shimmering embers.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the residual glare. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and sulphur. Thomas continued beside him, also shielding his eyes but otherwise unfazed.

"The practical classes usually focus on combat," Thomas explained, gesturing toward a sprawling field ahead of them. Students in varied attire sparred and cast spells, their movements a coordinated chaos of rigorous training.

"Hold positions!" a commanding voice rang out across the grounds. "We have guests entering through the gate. Take fifteen minutes to rest, then we'll resume."

Jamie scanned the area to locate the source of the voice. Approaching them with purposeful strides was a tall, slender woman. Her features were unmistakably elven, high cheekbones, angular yet graceful, with pointed ears peeking through cascades of meticulously braided white hair. Each braid was precise, almost ceremonial, framing a face that was both youthful and wise.

Her eyes were a piercing shade of silver, keen and observant, reflecting the midday light. They seemed to take in every detail, assessing not just what she saw but the intentions behind it. As she drew nearer, Jamie noted the attire that set her apart from the academicians he had envisioned.

She wore a fitted leather corset, expertly crafted and reinforced with rustic metal plates that hinted at both aesthetic sensibility and practical defense. The corset accentuated her lithe form, allowing for fluid movement. Beneath it, a linen blouse of pale hue provided contrast, the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms.

Around her waist hung an assortment of pouches and sheaths. Small vials clinked softly as she moved, and the hilts of daggers gleamed under the sun.

Jamie couldn't help but speculate about her past. Despite her current role at the academy, she bore the appearance of an adventurer, a seasoned explorer of hidden dungeons, perhaps a bounty hunter or a rogue. Questions swirled in his mind as he appraised her.

She approached at a brisk jog, her movements smooth and controlled. Though a light sheen of perspiration glistened on her brow, her breathing remained steady.

"Jamie, correct?" she inquired, her voice melodic yet authoritative.

"Yes," the bard replied, meeting her gaze.

"The director is expecting you," she stated.

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