47th of Season of Water, 58th year of the 32nd cycle

Flameax took a full day to come to terms with Newstar's sudden realm increase. He was disappointed. He had expected better from someone of Newstar's talent. There was no need to rush, to force things, and yet…

I thought I had gotten over it. But it was difficult to accept the situation. Whatever the young man had done had certainly threatened his health and was almost certainly detrimental to his future. The whole matter seemed impossible.

When Newstar fought the Blood Cult, he was at the third layer of the third realm, when Flameax next saw him entering the airship, mere days later, the young man was firmly at the ninth layer, close to the peak of it, and a few steps away from completing the tenth layer.

'Flameax, come visit me.' The gatemaster snapped the champion from his brooding several moments after the airship had entered the range of his senses.

Unfortunately, Flameax was nowhere near powerful enough to respond across such a distance. He waited in his secret compartment and jumped out when the ship slowed.

Flameax flew to the border of the island's innermost region, then landed and walked the rest of the way. Unless in a state of emergency, champions made the gesture to honor the current and former gatemasters. Even at a normal walking pace, it took no time at all before he reached the humble abode.

"How was your trip?" The gatemaster opened his eyes, a light smile on his lips.

"The Summersweald portion was uneventful, but the visit to the Dragon's Rest volcano was too exciting for my taste, Sir."

"Oh?" The smile grew wider, happier.

"The Blood Cult, or at least some of its initiates, have set their sights on the Salamandra clan…" Flameax narrated the events at the Steelwheel estate, followed by what he gleaned from interrogating the cult supporter, and finally, the commendation he received from the heresy hunters for reporting the incident and capturing the collaborator.

As his telling progressed, a thoughtful frown replaced the gatemaster's jovial smile.

"I see." The exalt kept his fingers steepled, his thoughts a mystery to Flameax. "And the sudden surge of his realm?"

"It happened after the fight with the cultists. However, after I confirmed that everyone was fine, and the cultists dealt with," Flameax stressed those words, "I stopped paying attention to the students and focused on the possible external threats. The next time I saw him was when he entered the airship, and he was already at the ninth layer."

Flameax expected the gatemaster to brood, or at least frown, but Newstar's rapid rise did not seem to bother him. In fact, the gatemaster smiled once more.

"Thank you, that is all. Warn Newstar that he shouldn't advance to the fourth realm until he perfects his realm, but I think he'll stay where he is for at least ten or fifteen years to strengthen his foundations properly." The gatemaster smiled, as if at a private joke. "After all, he has all the time in the world to grow."

***

Finally! Newt entered the seclusion chamber and shut the door, leaning against it with his back. He had waited for half a moon to start sculpting his realm. Worse, even after arriving at the order, he had to handle the paperwork first before he could start sculpting his realm.

So much to do! So much to test! He closed his eyes, about to enter his realm, when he recalled Obi's shouting, back when he learned his friends thought his parents were dead.

"You thought my parents were dead?"

"You went up a bloody mountain all frowns and serious, your parents aren't home, and your clan made you patriarch even though you're a kid. What the hell did you think we'd think? What kind of irresponsible people leave their son alone to run everything while they are off exploring the world?"

His argument kind of made sense, and while Newt assured them that his parents were the victims, neither Obi nor Rose seemed to have believed him, despite Newt sharing a short, vague version of his family's unfortunate circumstances.

Irrelevant. Work now.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Newt closed his eyes and started sculpting. The first order of business was to make the canals for lava that would flow out from the side vents all the way to the realm barrier. Then he dug the trenches for the runes. He was enamored with his work. Even if it brought no immediate benefit, just imagining the day he pierced the final foot to reach the magma and his strength soared made him giggle.

Newt was about halfway through a rune when a chime spread through his realm.

Newt frowned. "It must be a mistake."

He kept working, but minutes later, the chime echoed again. Twice.

Annoyed, Newt stopped mid-rune, and opened his eyes. His heart was beating strangely, his vision swam, his stomach growled, his tongue and throat parched. He stood, but had to lean on the wall for support.

"Sir Salamandra, your master called for you. There's only one more day before the elite trials, and she said you needed to see her at the training yard."

Newt nodded, blue and green dots dancing in his vision.

"You stayed in there too long," the woman said. "Did you take a fasting potion?"

Newt shook his head. He knew about the potion that allowed lower realm awakened to spend a moon without food or water, but never considered he would need them. The outer student frowned.

"I thought you had. Be sure to eat and drink before performing any strenuous activity. In the future, please report to me or other administrators in the chamber of instruction. Fasting potions aren't expensive, and you will have to pay for the visit to the Chamber of Healing for any incidents caused by your own carelessness."

Newt walked out of the building like a living dead. He probably thanked the woman for her worry, but he didn't remember saying the words.

Wait, what!? You only pay for healing if you need it because of your own carelessness? That's wonderful!

He just confirmed he owed the order and its champions nothing for saving him during the summer solstice incident.

Well, that's not true. I don't owe them manarium, but I do owe them my life.

"Haha!" he laughed aloud, then fell over.

"Sir, are you all right?" an outer student Newt did not know asked. "Should I fetch a healer?"

"I'm fine! No need to see the healers! I just need to eat something!" The overly energetic response drew a weird look, but the student worriedly passed him a handful of hazelnuts and left Newt alone.

Newt stood, dusted his clothes, then went to his room where he feasted on hazelnuts, dry fruits, and water.

"You're acting weirder than usual." Jasmine walked out of her room, a copied book in hand. Her room no longer had a whiff of alcohol about it, just a respectable noble lady's bedroom, smelling of lavender.

"I got carried away sculpting my realm." He threw a handful of dried blueberries into his mouth. "I think I haven't eaten or drank water in over two weeks. Starved myself completely. Fell down twice while returning here."

Jasmine folded her arms. "Sounds normal for you. How did you figure out it was time to stop?"

"Master summoned me—" and then I came here to eat and drink instead of responding to my master's summons. "I'm so dead."

Newt jumped, poured half a jug of water into his mouth and filled his pocket with dried apricots and prunes. "Gotta run."

He jumped out of the window, glided part of the way, then sprinted towards the northern training yard, stuffing his mouth with prunes. Newt ran until he caught sight of the field, then slowed down to a dignified walk, straightening his shirt and burning off any remaining food from his palms and face.

"Took you long enough."

Newt took in the folded arms, the frown, the annoyance in his master's voice.

Yeah, I'm dead.

"Newstar, how old are you?"

Newt was about to answer that he had turned seventeen half a year ago, but his master kept talking. "Three? Five? Were my instructions that difficult to follow?"

"No, Master." He lowered his gaze.

"And can you tell me what you will do differently next time?"

"I'll come here right away."

His danger sense flared, and he threw himself to the side, a thick pole made of compressed earth smashing into his shoulder. The stick burst into pieces, but still knocked him down.

"Wrong! Next time, you will make appropriate breaks while sculpting your realm! That means telling the desk administrator that they need to interrupt your work once every two or three days, so your body can recover, or you could consume appropriate potions and tell them when to interrupt your session. That's their mission, to keep the junior members of our order safe."

Lady Alabaster glared at him in silence. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master. I will take appropriate breaks and take care of my health."

The woman gave him a sharp nod. "Good. Your task for today is to get back into shape. Tomorrow is the elites' tryouts, and I expect you to dominate it. Do you have any questions?"

Newt shook his head.

"Well, I do. Tell me, why didn't you even come see your master, and instead went straight into the Chamber of Instruction to work on your realm?"

Newt opened his mouth, but did not know what to say. A moment later, he settled on the truth. "I'm sorry, Master. I got too excited with some ideas I had while we were in the Summersweald, and I just had to test them out. I know I was out of line—"

"Newstar, are you developing and changing your realm blueprint as you go along?"

Newt nodded. He thought his master already knew that. The sudden realization that she didn't made him feel uneasy. Would she force him into switching to something made by others? No matter how high-tiered the technique, he was certain what he was doing was better suited for him.

Lady Alabaster seemed to hesitate before slowly nodding. "That is admirable. If you encounter any difficulties, tell me immediately, and take your time sculpting your realm until you're satisfied with it."

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