"Purification Baths are quite expensive," Nurse Hallow said, turning to her desk to retrieve a screenboard. "Let me see your card."
Lancet tentatively handed her his Academy ID card. She ran his name on the screenboard, then gave him a questioning stare.
"You have zero profits," she said flatly. "Since this is an emergency, you'll be allowed the service. But it will cost you 6000 profits. You'll be in debt."
"That's fine," Lancet nodded, clutching his chest. The cold sensation in his gut was spreading, like ice water flowing through his veins, numbing his fingers. "Can I do it now? I can feel it spreading."
Nurse Hallow studied him for a second, seeing the gray pallor of his skin and the dark veins beginning to spiderweb up his neck.
She didn't argue further. She slammed her hand on a red button on the wall.
A seemingly normal far wall retracted, revealing a space that led into a pristine chamber.
"Take off your clothes and go in the Pod," she ordered. "Now!"
Lancet didn't need telling twice. He peeled himself, leaving only his whities, and stumbled into the chamber. In the center stood a device that looked like a vertical sarcophagus made of brass and glass.
He scrambled inside. The glass door hissed shut, sealing him in.
Nurse Hallow approached the pod and crosschecked to make sure everything was in place. Then, after pressing a few buttons, she said;
"Try to be calm. You will feel an itch."
Lancet closed his eyes and prepared himself. He knew she was lying. In the novel, he'd read that the Purification Pod caused an inward burning sensation, and it typically hurt.
Nurse Hallow was only saying that so he wouldn't panic.
In no time, liquid light flooded the chamber. It looked like ordinary water but it was paler, glistening with purple.
As it rose past his nose, Lancet panicked for a second, holding his breath, until the liquid forced its way into his lungs.
But rather than drowning, it felt like he'd inhaled raw fire. The pod hummed as it worked, and the purple liquid burned violently both outside and inside Lancet's body.
Lancet screamed, but the liquid swallowed the sound.
It roasted the corruption from his pores, and burned the Gloom hiding in every layer of his body system.
Gloom sizzled out of his skin like black smoke, and was pumped through another pipe that exhausted the energy into the atmosphere yet again.
A few minutes later, the process was done. He came out of the pod free of the corruption of Gloom.
Nurse Hallow watched him curiously as he put on his uniform. "It says here that you are Dull Rank. Yet somehow, you were able to accumulate over 60 MP of Gloom in your body."
Lancet turned to her, his trousers halfway up his legs.
"That means you must have accumulated over 100 MP of magical energy." She squinted her eyes at him. "Isn't that quite high for a Dull Rank?"
Lancet stared. She was right. It was quite high. But it wasn't because he had any golden finger that let him absorb more magical energy, it was simply because he used the Vacuum method.
"I drank the remaining supplements of a senior in my Class Group," he lied smoothly, zipping his pants.
Nurse Hallow narrowed her eyes at him. "And you knew that you had to take a Purification Bath?"
Lancet thought about the question. Purification Baths was certainly something that slummers like him and a few first years wouldn't know about.
"A friend of mine told me what to do," he said casually.
Nurse Hallow gazed at him for a while. Seconds past, and then she finally let him go.
"Remember that your Academy Account will be automatically debited until the 6000 profits are paid."
Lancet nodded. He left the clinic with a huge sigh of relief. However, the problem wasn't over yet. He still had 400 MP of unfiltered magical energy within him.
He had to begin Separation straight away.
The Academy bells rang for lessons to begin. Lancet was rushed into the homeroom of Summoner 101.
He spent the entire time sweating. Every time he shifted in his seat, he felt the raw energy inside him roiling, wanting to escape.
He had to clench his spiritual muscles, forcing his Soul Core to stay shut. If he leaked even a drop of this dirty energy to empower his body in any way, he would be corrupted once again and would have to take another Bath.
"Class dismissed," Maecil finally announced. "Proceed to the Main Lecture Hall for your joint lesson on Grace Retention. And try not to embarrass me in front of the Elementalists."
The Main Lecture Hall was a massive amphitheater, large enough to house a dragon. Year One students from all four Class Groups—Elementalists, Specialists, Enchanters, and Summoners—filed in, filling the tiered seats.
As usual, each Class Group sat amongst themselves. Elementalist-Ds took the front seats. Summoner-D stayed at the far back.
Lancet scanned the sea of heads until he found him.
Renan Falconhart.
The protagonist was sitting in the prime spot of the Specialist section, looking effortlessly majestic.
Even from this distance, Lancet could almost see the faint golden shimmer around him—the visual effect of his Solar Vessel trait constantly filtering the air.
And sitting right next to him, laughing at something he said, was the redhead from yesterday.
Frieda. The Brilliant-Rank Fire Mage.
'Of course,' Lancet thought bitterly. 'She's already orbiting him. The plot moves fast.'
"Settle down!"
A booming voice silenced the hall. Instructor Gunther Thaz, a 7 Star Arcanist, stood at the podium. He was a proud, gallant man with a stern face, red hair and a royal orange gear.
"Today, we discuss the foundation of our power," Gunther announced. "Retention. It does not matter how much power you can draw. If you can not use it, it is fallow. You must learn to separate the wheat from the chaff. To filter the Gloom and harness the Grace."
He went on a long speech on how this was done; a speech that Lancet didn't need to hear as he already knew everything.
At the moment, he couldn't afford to focus on anything else that wasn't suppressing the magical energy within him.
Then, with a snap of Gunther's fingers, the chairs all flattened backwards, turning to mats. "Begin the meditation process! Draw in the ambient energy. Separate it. Claim your Grace."
The air in the hall shifted as hundreds of students closed their eyes, beginning the breathing exercises.
The Main Lecture Hall was sizzling with magical energy, even Dull Ranked Lancet could feel it. But, he didn't need to draw new energy in; he already had enough.
This was the chance to clean what he had, to get rid of the Gloom. Hopefully, there would be enough Grace left to summon Astensia.
He closed his eyes and visualized the technique he had read about in the novel. It was a method used by one of the most powerful Awakeners who Renan was supposed to meet in the future.
Others were using pure meditation, but he used a shortcut. Imagination.
'Imagine the energy is dirty water,' Lancet coached himself. 'Muddy. Toxic. Chaotic.'
In his mind's eye, he saw the swirling gray storm inside his core.
'Now, imagine a sieve. A golden mesh of pure Will.'
He visualized placing the sieve over his core's output. He mentally grabbed the chaotic energy and poured it through.
Push.
There was some resistance. The Gloom was heavy, sticky like tar. It wanted to cling to the Grace.
'Keep filtering,' Lancet urged himself, exerting his will.
He forced the mixture through the mesh.
The heavy, black tar of Gloom got caught in the mental sieve, unable to pass. But the Grace—liquid silver, light, and pure—flowed through effortlessly, dripping into the reservoir of his soul.
In reality, his Soul Core had forced Gloom to one side, and Grace to another.
Then, he discarded the content of the sieve into a void, and at the same time, Gloom ejected out of his pores, joining the ambient energy in the air.
Ding!
Lancet opened his eyes.
⸢ Separation Successful ⸥
⸢ Gloom Discarded ⸥
⸢ Retained Grace: 120 MP ⸥
Lancet exhaled a long, shuddering breath. He already felt lighter, and at the same time, he felt slightly more powerful. Evidently, the synchronization between the human body and Grace was perfect.
It wasn't the full 400—he had lost a lot in the filtration process—but he had done it. He had 120 MP of Pure Grace.
Enough to Summon Astensia.
Professor Gunther caught his eyes open and called to him. "You!"
Lancet almost jerked off the mat.
"Your eyes are open. Are you already done?"
Lancet looked around the hall, realizing he was the only one whose eyes weren't shut. "Y-yes," he replied.
Professor Gunther frowned. "Aren't you a Dull Rank? You mean to tell me you've already absorbed energy and separated it to retain Grace?"
Lancet hesitated before responding. "Y-yes… Sir."
He was careful not to get on the bad side of this guy. From what he knew in the novel, Professor Gunther was not someone to be messed with.
Gunther squinted at him, checking his Soul Core to see if this was true. Then he stopped and sighed. "Very well. Good job."
Lancet gulped.
The next to be finished was Renan. But Lancet knew that he had finished long before even him, he was just pretending to not let his secret out.
Renan glanced at him for just a second before looking away, uncaring. Lancet grimaced.
From then on, others completed the process and the bell for recess rang.
Professor Gunther dismissed them. Lancet, excited to summon Astensia, hurried out of the hall. With the Grace in his Soul Core, he was no longer worried about the duel with Theo.
"Ugh!"
Lancet had run straight into a wall of muscle.
"Going somewhere, rat?"
He looked up, and his heart sank.
Gully stood in front of him, arms crossed, looking like a granite boulder with a uniform. Behind him, Dace was leaning against a pillar, tossing a dagger.
And in the middle, glaring like the demons he binded, was Theo.
"You think you're clever," Theo hissed. "Running to the nurse? Hiding behind a teacher's skirt?"
Lancet took a step back. "Let's not do this here, Theo. We could get in trouble. You said three days."
"Fuck three days," Theo spat, stepping forward.
His eyes were burning with humiliation.
He grabbed Lancet by the collar and slammed him against the brick wall.
"You punched me," Theo snarled, his face inches from Lancet's. "A Dull Rank... punched me."
"It was a reflex," Lancet choked out, his feet dangling off the ground. "I didn't mean it."
"Too late, slum rat!"
Theo dropped Lancet, and before Lancet could recover, Dace kicked his legs out from under him. Lancet hit the dirt hard.
"We're not waiting," Theo announced, towering over him as students began to gather, forming a circle of curious onlookers. "I'm not letting you walk around for three days thinking you got one over on me."
"We're doing the Duel now."