Aston passed a girl with pale green hair riding a massive armored beetle spirit beast, then a boy in crimson-trimmed robes guided a flock of wasps in careful formation. The variety was staggering compared to the rigid structure of Shale City's tiny academies. Intrigued, he analyzed the beasts.

—

[Spirit Beast: Verdant Bulwark Beetle]

[Type: Insectoid]

[Attribute: Earth]

[Genus: Scarabaeus]

[Rank: 2-star]

[Potential: 9-star]

[Description: A colossal beetle species renowned for its near-impenetrable armor and unwavering stamina. They bond with spirit professionals to serve as living shields and mobile fortresses. Their emerald-hued carapace can absorb kinetic force and elemental attacks, making them prized companions for defensive roles. Despite their size, they are surprisingly agile across rocky and uneven terrain.]

—

[Spirit Beast: Venom King Wasp]

[Type: Insectoid]

[Attribute: Poison]

[Genus: Vespa]

[Rank: 3-star]

[Potential: Obsidian Core]

[Description: A dominant variant of the spirit wasp species, the Venom King Wasp commands lesser wasps through pheromonal spirit signals. Known for their aggressive tactics and precise formation control, they excel in swarm warfare and surgical strikes. Its stingers deliver potent paralytic venom capable of disabling spirit beasts larger than themselves, immobilizing them as their internal organs liquefy.]

—

These are the real competitors. This is the starting line.

The towering doors of Foundational Hall West loomed ahead, embossed with an intricate engraving of the Spire of Dawn itself, wrapped by flowing lines symbolizing potential, awakening, and ascension.

Students filed inside, the soft murmur of conversation rising and falling like waves.

Aston followed them through the heavy doorway into a grand circular hall. The lecture chamber was vast—a high ceiling with tiered seating that spiraled downward around a center dais. The walls bore shifting murals that depicted great moments of spirit history: the founding of the academy, the forging of the first imperial spirit bonds, the sealing of the ancient abysses.

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Aston found a seat halfway up along one side, where he could observe without being the center of attention.

Gray hopped onto the desk in front of him, curling like a lazy shadow, while Mirage perched slightly above, wings tucked close.

More students poured in, filling the seats. Not just Scouting Arts students—he noticed distinct robes from various divisions. Sky-blue for Healing and Support, red for Spirit Combat, light green for Spirit Alchemy, violet for Enchantment Arts, orange for Trade and Commerce, and grey for Spirit Engineering.

It was a convergence: the future elite of multiple paths gathered under one roof for their foundational studies.

The buzz of conversation grew sharper as the clock approached the hour.

Aston leaned back slightly in his seat, hands resting calmly on the desk.

When 8:00 AM arrived, a man in his late twenties entered the room. Instantly, silence spread across the students like a wave.

He wasn't particularly tall, but his posture commanded attention. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and a single streak of silver—natural or dyed, none could tell—cut through the fringe at his temple. Thin-framed lenses perched on the bridge of his nose, flickering with lines and data, then disappeared—the latest analytical glasses.

The robe he wore was clean-cut and flowing, deep charcoal in color, accented with silver-trimmed sleeves and collar embroidery—the marking of a full professor affiliated with the academy.

He reached the center of the dais without a word, placed a slim spirit tablet on the lectern, and tapped it once.

A ripple of energy passed through the hall. The ambient noise dulled, the shifting murals dimmed, and a faint diagram shimmered to life behind him—an image of a human silhouette with energy channels and a luminous core at the center of the chest.

Only then did he speak, his voice low and smooth, but unmistakably clear.

"Welcome, first-years. My name is Professor Cael Windermere. I will be your instructor for the subject: Foundational Spirit Theory."

He paused, letting the silence hang.

"As you can see from my robes, I am a faculty of the Spirit Engineering Division. This class is not about spectacular spells or flashy beast techniques. If that's what you came for, you're in the wrong hall. This is the spine of spiritcraft—the knowledge that holds everything else upright. Without it, you will break. Not today. Not tomorrow. But eventually."

Some students shifted uneasily in their seats. Others leaned forward, curious.

Professor Cael continued, turning slightly as the diagram behind him shifted.

"Every living creature, spirit beast or human, possesses three key layers: the spiritual core, the etheric channels, and the soulbound resonance. Your potential, your growth, and your bond with your current and future spirit beasts are all shaped by your understanding and development of these layers."

"This course will teach you how to listen to your spirit beast. How to control them. And eventually, how to push its boundaries."

He tapped the tablet again. Another image flickered into place—this time a stylized rendering of a beast tamer and their companion, linked by a glowing chain of energy.

"We will study spiritual feedback loops, core harmonics, cultivation techniques, and channel stability. These are the basics—but they are not simple. Some of you will struggle. Some of you will fail."

He looked around the hall, gaze sharp even through the shine of his lenses.

"But all of you—by virtue of being here—have the right to try."

Then, for the first time since entering, he smiled.

It was a small smile, measured. But it wasn't cold.

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