Eugene sat back in a soft brown leather seat beneath the steady hum of a magical cooling unit. Dim lights revealed a train that was spotless and orderly, with small storage compartments above the seats.
He stretched his legs forward. A calm silence filled the carriage, broken only by faint whispers from students in his class. He pulled out his notebook, flipped it open, and began to write.
Many days have passed. At least, they felt quick to me.
Day One:
It was an ordinary day. Once Adelaide's lesson—explained in Idris's usual irritating manner—ended, we left, ate together, and talked about various topics. Space… money… food… travel. We talked until around the sixth hour. Reem left to pray, then returned shortly after Freed arrived, and we resumed our discussion.
Day Two:
Not much different from the first in terms of routine. We studied alchemy again—this time purely practical work. It was frustrating at first, but… I grew used to it as the days and experiments passed. Over time, it even turned into an unspoken competition between Reem and me.
Like every other day, once class ended, we went to eat. This time I tried an egg-and-tomato sandwich they called shakshouka. It was delicious.
Day Three:
There were no lessons that day. Everyone was busy, so I used the time to train my cultivation. As hours passed, I began mastering how to insert the feathers in a balanced way. I also pushed myself through endurance drills—intense ones, at least for me.
Day Four:
We studied the construction of certain weapons—Ghost Bullets, a gleaming silver sword, the Axe of Hercules, and others. The day ended with more intense training. I didn't slack off.
Day Five:
This day was different. When I decided to use the training yard, I found Reem already there—with her cat. I still get chills whenever I touch that creature. I had gone there to train, but the day ended with me discussing various topics with Reem instead. As for class, it was just information like any other day—nothing particularly important.
Day Six:
Very different.
After a dull alchemy lesson that nearly killed me with boredom, and after we ate—around the fifth hour—I was sitting in the garden when I noticed Musa seated on a bench opposite me. I didn't hesitate. I went and sat with him.
The air was completely still. Musa looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing his eyes.
Without thinking, I asked the question I had prepared days earlier:
"Is it truly possible to predict the future without possessing a Time Imprint—or any imprint related to foresight?"
Musa thought for a few seconds. His voice was slow and heavy with fatigue.
"Somewhat. But any prediction of the future is more like receiving signals from it."
"And who sends these signals?"
"No one sends them. They occur when dreams blend with time—or, more precisely, when a Time Imprint merges with a Dream Imprint, producing a dream that carries glimpses of the future. Sometimes near. Sometimes very, very distant. They usually appear as unclear symbols."
My mind immediately recalled that dream—the red three-pointed star I had seen the same day I discovered the same symbol on a paper. And the dream I had when I was choosing which imprint to take.
"Can those future dreams be controlled?" I asked.
Musa shook his head no, then raised a finger and leaned back.
"But there may be tools capable of influencing such dreams… or perhaps not. I'm not certain."
I was stunned. Musa—a fifth-stage cultivator, one hundred and fifty years old, considered one of the sharpest minds in Monian—didn't know.
Sensing my surprise, he said,
"This world is vast beyond measure. There are hidden things within it. I've confined myself mostly to Monian, which means my knowledge of the outer continents—their resources, tools, cultivators—is limited. And I cannot rely entirely on what I once knew. The world is constantly changing."
It was a convincing answer.
I continued asking questions, trying to extract as much knowledge as possible from his experience in this immense and astonishing world.
"Why do humans hate dragons? And why do dragons hate humans?"
Musa inhaled deeply.
"It's an ancient conflict. Very ancient. Dating back to the Fourth Era. No one truly knows—or at least no one is certain—of the real cause."
"How long have you been at the fifth stage?"
"Forty years."
My eyes widened in shock—and a little fear that it might take me that long. I swallowed it down and asked another question.
"Where are the other Guardians? And why are you called the Guardians?"
"They're busy. Thor is stationed at the border. Iron conducts exploration tours and oversees prisons. As for Jan Ron, he has no fixed duty—he rotates between training, sleeping, eating, and occasional sparring matches with Thor."
"And the title?"
"We were among the first cultivators in the Empire to reach the fifth stage—perhaps the only ones at the time. Over the past forty years, we've contributed greatly to the Empire. We built Sun Academy, established the Border Guard, captured hundreds of thousands of demonic cultivators, drove thousands of beasts away from populated regions, invested in the Empire's prosperity, and added valuable treasures to the ruling family's vaults."
It was a night rich with priceless information. Eventually, sleep overtook Musa, and he returned home to rest.
Day Seven:
A dreadful day. I felt sluggish, unwilling to do anything. I woke with a headache and stomach pain. Electrical currents malfunctioned, causing a two-hour power outage. And the lesson—if it could be described at all—reached a new pinnacle of boredom.
…
Eugene stopped writing when a tall, handsome man in refined clothing passed by, serving food whose aroma quickly filled the carriage.
Eugene bought a jam-and-cream pastry and a warm cup of karak tea.
Outside, snow began to fall as the train moved deeper into the forest.
Day Eight — Eugene wrote while eating the pastry:
It was exam day—the tests that determine the field training period. From sunrise to sunset: fierce winds, biting cold, and examinations.
I focused on cultivation and alchemy… but I forgot they also taught mathematics, zoology, geography, and social studies. Truthfully, I remember ninety-nine percent of those subjects not at all—either because I didn't attend, slept through them, or simply didn't pay attention.
That caused me plenty of trouble with Alex, who constantly reprimanded me, reminding me that life isn't cultivation alone—and that I must pay attention to other aspects of living.
Still, I performed well in the practical sections: martial arts, tracking, horseback riding, direct combat.
Though most of the fights were dull. My opponents were either frightened—or women. And I don't strike women unless under exceptional circumstances.
I assumed Reem would follow that same understanding, since she's my friend and knows I don't hit girls.
I was wrong.
She attacked without hesitation—strong, swift, fluid. I could do little but defend, launching the occasional light counterattack.
Rin, as usual, was tense and afraid—but he succeeded in the end.
As for the rest of the academic subjects, they were ordinary and tedious, yet somehow I passed them all—except alchemy theory, which was complicated and strange.
The exam had two parts: theoretical and practical. I passed the practical, but failed the theoretical by a single mark.
Which means I'll be delayed a few hours before departure.
That day we sat together, eating, talking, joking. Rin was emotional. Freed seemed slightly sad—he would spend the holiday with Edios, who would undoubtedly annoy him without pause. Our daily gatherings and shared meals had become part of his routine; he would miss them.
Reem was excited, yet tinged with sadness—just like me.
End of Chapter.
I apologize for the delay. There are circumstances and reasons that will cause the release of the chapters to be postponed.