I waited until Matthew wrapped the ghost in a steady flow of energy, then released my own into the motionless target. The moment my power seeped into the milky haze, images flooded my mind.
An old toilet. A brand-new brush set beside it. Different people using it over time. Then the bathroom fell into neglect, dust settling over everything. No one lived in the house anymore. I watched the tiles crack, crumble, decay.
I absorbed its entire history in seconds—yet it felt like I'd lived through years.
Ignoring how ridiculous it was, I focused and pushed my thoughts into the stream:
"You spent your life serving people—cleaning up even the worst filth without complaint. You did your job well. The people you helped are grateful. You've earned your rest. Let go."
The ghost paled—and dissolved.
A wave of startled breaths rippled through the barn. I turned to the instructor and let out a sharp laugh.
"You're kidding me. A toilet brush? Seriously?"
"And yet, you banished it," Ivanson said with a satisfied grunt. "I picked that one on purpose. Easy to banish—but most people can't help mocking it during the link. The ghost senses that—and rejects you."
"How did you even take it seriously?" Alma asked. "It's a toilet brush."
The barn erupted into chatter. Only Matthew stayed quiet, watching me with that same distant, unreadable look.
Ivanson opened another panel and released a second entity for Robert and his partner.
Torrent managed to banish his on the third attempt. His partner failed. They used the same approach we had—holding it in place with a neutral flow instead of combat force.
"What did you get?" I asked.
"A leaking pot," Robert snorted.
"And how did you get over your natural sarcasm?"
"I pictured you beating me again," he said with a grin. "Worked like a charm. Felt real sorry for the thing."
"So," Ivanson said, "out of ten pairs, only two succeeded. Two more made progress. Those who almost managed—step forward."
Matthew and another student stepped out. Ivanson paired them and released a third entity. Matthew banished it on his second attempt. His partner didn't quite manage it, but came close every time.
"Now those who succeeded—forward."
Robert and I stepped up.
"Robert Torrent. Your task is to restrain and banish simultaneously." Another panel slid open, releasing a ghost. "Alan Holivan—this one's yours." A second panel opened. "Begin."
This time, I knew exactly what to do. I banished the ghost of an old cat—one that hadn't managed to say goodbye to its owner—faster than I expected.
Robert struggled. Holding one stream steady while maintaining another for the link clearly wasn't easy—but on his third attempt, he pulled it off.
"Well done. The three of you will train separately starting next session—several dozen ghosts at once. The rest of you, keep practicing. Dismissed."
"Dozens of ghosts… that's going to be messy," I said as we stepped outside.
"What's the problem?" Robert shrugged. "We just take them out one by one."
"The problem," Matthew said quietly, "is that ghosts close to each other start sharing thoughts. That interferes with banishment—more specifically, with understanding why they exist."
"…Right. Then we'll have to spread them out."
"That's overkill for low-level spirits," Robert scoffed. "We split them evenly, block off the center, and deal with them one at a time. Two hold the rest, one banishes. Done."
Matthew gave a small nod. "That could work."
I agreed, so I didn't argue.
It was a brutal week. No matter how much endurance I'd built up at the academy, it wasn't enough for this.
During Ivanson's classes, Robert, Matthew, and I were constantly competing. The rush of it pushed me forward during training—but afterward, it left me completely drained. Still, I refused to fall behind. I pushed until I hit my limit—then kept going.
By the end of the week, I earned my seventh badge—pulling ahead and leaving both Robert and Matthew behind.
"One week, Holivan," Ivanson said at the end of Friday's class. "Didn't expect this kind of drive from—"
"No need, sir. I get it," I cut him off with a smirk. "Where I come from doesn't matter."
"Fair enough," he said. "Still, I'm praising you. You learn almost as fast as Storik did."
"Storik is one of my mentors," I said. "And someone I look up to."
"Good. I'll submit a request to assign you to a field unit. As of today, you're excused from my classes."
"A field unit?" I blinked.
"Yes. We can't keep entities above the second level inside the academy. For practice, students are sent on real assignments—extermination or banishment. It's mandatory for third-years, but I see no reason to wait in your case."
"Thank you for your trust, Instructor."
"And one more thing. I'm skipping standard second-level assignments for you. Be ready—you'll be facing a third-level entity."
"…I won't disappoint you."
"Holivan!" Robert shouted, catching up to me in the corridor. "What the hell was that? You beat me again? Greg says Matthew and I are getting second-level field work—and you're jumping straight to the next tier!"
"We fought well," I said in a mock solemn tone. "You were worthy opponents. But now it's time for me to move on—and leave you behind."
"You bastard," Robert laughed, kicking me.
"I'll catch up," Matthew said quietly, already walking ahead.
He seemed even more distant than usual. Something about that bothered me—but I pushed the thought aside.
After Ivanson handed me the badge, Kristina approached me with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Alan. You know Clyde isn't exactly the understanding type. Anyway—he wants to see you."
"Oh, come on…" I groaned. "What now? Rewrite another article? Spy on someone? I've got training today. I've been grinding all week, and tomorrow I've got three practicals. I don't have the energy for his nonsense."
"Clyde says that's not his problem," she said, tapping her temple—meaning Silus could hear everything.
"You tyrant," I muttered—aimed at Clyde, not her—and headed for his office.
"What do you need this time?" I asked as I stepped inside. "Another article? Surveillance?"
"No. I called you to inform you—Saturday, after classes, we're going into town."
"…Why?" I frowned.
"Turns out I'm not such a tyrant after all," he said with a smirk. "You've earned a bit of rest."
"With you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Is that a problem, Holivan?"
"No, no—I understand perfectly, Mr. Silus," I said quickly, already backing toward the door.
Better that than spending another day stuck inside the academy.