After studying the skills with full satisfaction, I immediately decided to head back to the academy and the Spirit Hall branch — it was time to register for the Spirit Master class and claim my gold coin subsidies.
It took a full four hours to push through the forest, and another day of travel before the familiar walls of the academy came into view. I rested well that night, letting my body recover from the journey, and the following morning I made my way to the Spirit Hall branch.
The branch hall was quiet at that hour. Master Matthew stood behind the registration counter, his experienced eyes sharp as ever. He pressed his hand against mine during the spirit rank assessment, and I watched his expression shift — from routine professionalism to genuine surprise.
"Rank seventeen?" He pulled his hand back slowly, studying me as though recalculating something. "How long has it been since your last registration? You were barely at eleven." He set down his pen. "Explain yourself."
I had expected this question. In truth, I had already prepared for it.
"It's not as mysterious as it seems, Master Matthew," I said calmly. "I've been studying the Ten Theories of Spirit Cultivation — the foundational framework that most students overlook because they're chasing combat experience instead of understanding the core principles. I chose a different path."
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, gesturing for me to continue.
"I decided to delay spirit hunting for a period and use that time purely for cultivation. With a stable theoretical foundation guiding my training, my spirit power grew far more efficiently than it would have through hunting alone." I paused briefly, then added, "And I had help. My teacher assisted me in obtaining a four-hundred-year spirit ring."
The silence that followed was telling.
Master Matthew leaned back in his chair, fingers laced together, reassessing me entirely. A four-hundred-year spirit ring was no small matter for someone at my stage. Most students my age were working with rings half that age, if they were fortunate.
"Your teacher," he said finally, "must think quite highly of you."
"I intend to prove that confidence was not misplaced," I replied.
He held my gaze for a long moment before picking his pen back up and opening the registration ledger.
"Spirit Master class — registered." He stamped the document firmly, then slid a sealed envelope across the counter. "Your gold coin subsidy. Don't waste it."
I took the envelope with both hands and offered a respectful bow.
The first step was done.