"There are other examples of Saints within our kingdom, but I will leave those for future sessions," Mary said, offering a small smile as she turned back to the diagram.
She tapped her chalk against the third small circle labeled Cosmic.
"Yesterday, we discussed Gate Characteristics. This third circle represents the energy that builds them."
She swept her gaze across the quiet classroom. "Cosmic Energy shapes reality itself. It flows through Gates, carrying 'information'—what we call Characteristics. When a Gate overflows, this energy forcefully rewrites the nature of anything it touches, whether transforming a beast, warping a landscape, or imbuing an object with those same characteristics."
Mary tapped the circle labeled Cosmic once more, her expression turning somber.
"We do not yet know the true origin of Cosmic Energy, but we do know its nature," she explained, leaning slightly toward the class. "It consumes all forms of matter and energy to feed its own growth. Once it reaches maturity, it condenses into the solid crystals we know as Gate Characteristics."
She paused, letting the statement sink in before continuing.
"This is precisely why clearing low-level Gates before they expand is critical. However, the true danger lies in their unpredictability—these Gates appear and disappear across different locations without warning, behaving almost like a predator consuming its prey."
Mary turned back to the blackboard, drawing three branching lines beneath the word Gates.
"As we have previously discussed, Gates generally fall into three distinct classifications: Monster Gates, Narrative Gates, and Living World Gates."
She tapped the first two entries on the board. "Both Monster Gates and Narrative Gates belong to the category formed through consumption—the cosmic energy absorbing matter to expand and manifest."
A student raised a hand and asked, "What about the Living World Gates?"
Mary replied with a smile. "Living World Gates are a special kind of gate. They were artificially made to tear open space to escape into another world as refugees. They used to be much more common hundreds of years ago, but in recent times, these gates don't appear anymore."
She paused, setting her chalk down. "Some theorize that those remaining worlds have already been completely consumed by Cosmic Energy, while others believe those populations simply no longer need to flee. But who truly knows?"
She smiled, then added, "There is actually a fourth kind of gate, and it is quite similar in nature to a Living World Gate."
Mary wrote Man-Made Gate beneath the list on the board. "It is called a Man-Made Gate. These are created by supplying an existing, dormant Gate Characteristic with enough raw energy to reactivate it, forcing a gate to open once again."
Mary stepped back from the board, indicating the new addition.
"This fourth type—the Man-Made Gate—is precisely what academies and the military use to train personnel," she explained. "Rather than sending students to explore an unknown and unpredictable gate, it is far safer to re-open and explore a gate that has already been cleared."
Mary tapped the board right under the term Man-Made Gate to emphasize her point.
"However, there is a strict limitation to this method," she noted, looking around the room. "The maximum level of gate you can artificially produce is only Level 2."
She set her chalk down on the tray, wiping dust from her fingers. "Beyond that threshold, the sheer volume and volatility of Cosmic Energy required makes the process far too dangerous to replicate in a controlled environment."
Mary crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on the students with a measured, encouraging look.
"You will be entering these types of gates during your first year," she said, leaning against the desk. "And those who perform well will have the opportunity to join higher-year students in clearing real, active gates outside the academy."
Mary tilted her head slightly, offering a subtle smile.
"I haven't discussed this with you yet because you are still first-year students, but clearing real gates will earn you merit points," she explained, holding up a finger to emphasize the point. "These points can be exchanged for specialized items, currency, and other valuable resources."
She glanced over the classroom, letting the weight of her words settle. "That is why qualifying before you even advance to your second year provides a massive head start. Securing those resources early sets the trajectory for your entire time at the academy."
She picked up a board eraser and began clearing space on the right side of the blackboard, her tone firming into a clear instruction.
"So make sure to study well. That is all for today. You may all go now, except for those who haven't filled out their forms—I still need to consult with you."
The three students stepped out of the classroom into the hallway.
Tresca turned to Lucelle, asking about Saint Snowfield.
Lucelle held her head up proudly. "He is my great-grandfather," she replied. "Every single technique I use was developed by him."
Lucelle's proud expression softened slightly as her gaze dropped to the floor. "Sadly, he disappeared years before I was born. I don't really know where he is now. There's no grave, so I don't even know if he's still alive or not."
She paused, adjusting the strap of her bag as they walked. "No one in the family really knows what happened to him, but as his descendants, we strive to someday replicate and master his techniques—and one day, completely transform the whole North into warm mountain peaks."
Lucelle turned toward Tresca, asking if the Evergard family had ever produced a Saint.
Tresca shook her head. "No," she replied. "The Evergard family was only established less than a century ago, so we don't really have an interesting history. The highest level anyone in my family ever reached was Level 6, and my father is currently at Level 5."
"I see. I guess breaking through Level 7 is just that difficult," Lucelle sighed, looking ahead down the corridor. "Even our current family head is only Level 6."
Tresca offered a slight tilt of her head. "Speaking of which, what do you plan on doing? We don't have any more classes today."
Lucelle gave a small, determined nod. "I just plan on going home. I need to practice a little bit." Her eyes held a new, sharp focus, clearly fired up after hearing her ancestor mentioned during the lecture.
Tresca smiled, but before she could speak, Lucelle turned to the two of them. "How about you and Lucian?"
"We don't really have plans for today, but tomorrow we'll go to the commercial district to buy some items," Tresca said.
Lucelle leaned in close to Tresca, a sly look on her face as she whispered, "A date?"
Tresca's cheeks flushed slightly as she quickly shook her head. "We just plan on buying some groceries and school supplies."
Lucelle perked up. "Then can I come along? I want to see the commercial district too."
"I was about to invite you, but you kept whispering weird stuff," Tresca said, teasingly turning her head away.
Noticing Tresca's reaction, Lucelle hurriedly apologized, giving her a pleading look. "I'm sorry, I was just joking! Please let me come."
Lucian, standing close behind, silently watched the interaction between the two girls with a warm gaze.
The next day, Lucian and Tresca stood waiting outside the gates of Lucelle's mansion for her to come out.
"Am I late?" Lucelle asked, catching her breath as she stepped through the gates.
She wore a light blue sundress that fell softly around her knees, paired with a fitted coat and a wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from the sun.
Tresca turned to her with a smile. "You're just right on time."
Tresca was dressed casually yet elegantly in a soft beige top tucked into a flowing, ankle-length white skirt that moved gently with the breeze.
Lucian stood a step behind them, silent and attentive in his crisp, impeccably tailored servant attire.
Lucelle looked Lucian up and down, a baffled expression crossing her face. "Why is Lucian wearing that outfit in this blazing sun?"
Tresca sighed softly, rubbing her forehead in mild exasperation. "I already told him he could wear something lighter, but he just won't budge."
Lucian maintained a calm composure. "I am proud to wear this uniform, and the weather is fine, my lady. Besides, using magic to regulate my temperature counts as practice."
"So it is hot!" Tresca exclaimed, turning to face him. "You're just using magic to cool yourself!"
"Look me in the eye and say that," Tresca added, narrowing her eyes.
Lucian continued to look away, maintaining his silence.
Tresca let out a small sigh, giving up on the argument. She turned back toward Lucelle and gestured down the road. "Let's go. Let's just ignore him."
She took Lucelle's hand and dragged her forward. As they walked, Lucelle leaned in and whispered softly to Tresca, "A lovers' quarrel?"
Hearing this, Tresca's face flushed bright red. She immediately let go of Lucelle's hand and quickened her pace, walking faster in an attempt to leave the two behind.
Lucelle chuckled and broke into a light jog to keep up, while Lucian followed closely, matching them stride for stride.
Tresca finally slowed her pace as the bustling streets of the commercial district came into view. The three arrived much earlier than they had originally planned.
Lucelle caught up, still smiling, while Lucian quietly stepped up behind them without a single thread of his uniform out of place.
Lucelle stepped in front of Tresca and wrapped her arms around her in a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, hehe," she giggled, leaning back just enough to look at Tresca's flustered face.
Tresca sighed and patted Lucelle's shoulder. "I'm not really mad."
Noticing the faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead from her sudden sprint, Lucian stepped forward, quietly pulling a clean linen handkerchief from his pocket to offer her.
Tresca glanced at the extended cloth, rolled her eyes, and turned her face away, deliberately ignoring him. She pulled away from the hug and turned toward the market stalls lining the street. "Let me buy us something first, Lucelle," she said, taking a step forward and leaving Lucian standing behind with the offered handkerchief.
As they walked through the bustling district, Lucelle fell into step beside Tresca, glancing back briefly at Lucian before leaning in again.
"Why are you really so mad at Lucian?" Lucelle asked in a low voice, her tone curious. "I don't buy that it's just about his outfit."
Tresca crossed her arms, her annoyance flaring anew. "He hid green bell peppers in the hamburger steak he made! I was happily eating it, and then he brought it up so proudly!"
Lucelle blinked, trying—and failing—to hide a smile at the revelation.
"I hate green bell peppers, and he made me eat them! Then he proudly announced it right to my face!" Tresca added, turning to throw an intense glare at Lucian.
Lucian met her glare with a slight smile. "Green bell peppers are healthy for you, my lady."
Tresca turned to Lucelle, her frustration peaking. "Can you punch that evil butler for me?"
Lucelle glanced between Tresca's outraged expression and Lucian's unbothered composure, letting out a soft chuckle as she tried to mediate the lingering tension.
Lucian stepped away for a moment and returned with a tray of fresh desserts, handing the sweet treats to the two ladies in a calm attempt to appease Tresca. He offered no apology, maintaining his stance on the matter entirely.
Tresca stared at the dessert, then took it away swiftly. She immediately began eating it, though she still refused to look Lucian in the eye.
Lucian simply stood by, his expression calm as he watched her enjoy the treat despite her stubborn silence.