After everything had been concluded, Dante instructed Vexion, Amber, Lexa, and Elric to head back to the Combat Territory and continue their training. There were only about two days left before everyone would meet again — more specifically, the new faction Dante was forming alongside Jurian, Aisha, Gorgon, and Elisophere.
Once they all gathered again, they could continue discussing how they intended to move forward and what direction the faction itself would take.
Most importantly, Dante actually wanted to fight Jurian and Aisha. Originally, he hadn't given either of them much thought — at first he had assumed they would simply be classmates he happened to meet once before eventually going their separate ways.
However, after meeting Luna, and after meeting Qwarian, his perspective had changed. He now had a rough understanding of what the true upper echelon amongst the first-years felt like.
Unfortunately, because his Appraisal Skill couldn't apparaise them, he had no choice but to rely on instinct, experience, and his own sense of danger whenever he judged another person's strength. For that very reason, he wanted to fight Durian and Aisha.
If those two really were as strong as his instincts suggested, then he would gain a much clearer understanding of where people like Luna, Qwarian, and even the mysterious Merlin she had mentioned stood amongst the first-years.
More importantly, he would finally have a rough measuring stick for just how absurd those at the academy first years truly were.
What followed afterwards was Dante giving Amber a few simple instructions. For the next two days, she was to focus entirely on studying the mana she had unconsciously gathered over the years.
She was to learn a minimum of three skills and a maximum of four.
The reason was simple. Even if she possessed an endless ocean of mana, even if that mana contained the structures of countless different skills, everything still required time.
Learning a skill wasn't instantaneous — she needed to understand its structure, unravel it, recreate it, then practice it until it became something she could use instinctively.
Otherwise, she would simply end up possessing an enormous catalogue of half-understood skills, a mountain of knowledge with no mastery.
Furthermore, not every skill suited her. A person's skill set was determined by how they wished to fight, and there was little point in learning dozens of abilities that didn't complement one another.
More importantly, it wasn't as though she possessed an endless number of Legendary-tier skills to study — the number was actually quite limited. Among those, some were far beyond her current ability to comprehend.
Others had become too basic to be worth investing time into. What Amber truly needed wasn't quantity. She needed a foundation of skills that she could continuously improve and build upon as she grew stronger.
And with that, the day quietly passed.
....
Qwarian sat among his usual trio, or rather quartet. The room they were in was particularly extravagant — bean bag chairs were scattered around, snacks were piled onto the table, and half-finished drinks occupied almost every available surface.
He had a mildly annoyed expression as he looked at everyone.
"My friends," he sighed, tossing another chip into his mouth, "I hate to break it to you, but we might need to make some slight adjustments to our plans."
Sapphire, who had been quietly reading a book, raised her head.
"Something came up?"
Qwarian nodded.
"A few hours ago, well, almost a day by now, Dante met that woman, Luna."
The tiger beastkin, Zephir, whose white fur was lined with organized black stripes, leaned back in his chair.
"So? Do you think they formed some sort of faction?"
Qwarian shook his head.
"Kind of. But also no."
Everyone frowned.
Bullshar, who looked no older than a teenager despite already possessing the bearing of a young adult, stuffed another handful of snacks into his mouth.
"That doesn't answer anything."
Qwarian laughed.
"I know."
He stretched lazily before continuing.
"I don't think they're stupid enough to immediately form a faction. They're both the cautious type. They're the sort of people who'd rather observe everyone before committing themselves."
Shade, the assassin-like Dark Elf sitting in the corner with one leg crossed over the other, tilted her head.
"Then why are you so bothered?"
Qwarian's smile slowly disappeared.
"Because monsters don't normally acknowledge each other."
The room fell silent.
He continued.
"When someone strong sees another strong person, there are generally only three outcomes. They ignore each other. They fight. Or — they become interested."
He sighed.
"Dante and Luna skipped the first two. They talked."
Bullshar frowned.
"...Is talking really that dangerous?"
"It is when both people are capable of making me uncomfortable."
The room became noticeably quieter. Sapphire slowly closed her book.
"You're serious."
Qwarian nodded.
"Completely. I've only met Dante once. I've only observed Luna from afar. But both of them gave me the exact same feeling."
He looked down at the snack packet in his hand.
"My instincts screamed at me to never underestimate them."
Zephir scratched behind one of his ears.
"So your concern isn't really that they'll join forces."
Qwarian pointed at him.
"Exactly. My concern is that once people like that begin acknowledging each other, everyone else naturally gets dragged into whatever follows."
Bullshar swallowed another mouthful.
"I still don't quite understand."
Qwarian leaned back into the bean bag.
"My original reason for asking all of you to build a faction together wasn't simply because we'd become stronger. I was thinking beyond our first year. Our second. Our third. Our fourth. We'll keep growing. We'll keep climbing. But the people we need to worry about aren't just our own year."
Bullshar stopped chewing.
"...Wait." He frowned. "So you're not talking about first-years. You're talking about the second-years."
Qwarian smiled.
"Bingo. The first-years already contain monsters I can't simply ignore. If that's the case, what do you think the second-years look like?"
Nobody answered immediately.
They all understood.
These were people who had already survived an entire year inside Midvest Academy — not merely the entrance examinations, not merely one semester, a whole year.
A year filled with competition, betrayal, politics, resource wars, survival, faction conflicts, examinations and opportunities.
Simply surviving until the second year already proved something.