The Anomaly's Path

I stepped out of my room, fixing the cuffs of my coat.

The hallway on the elite floor was empty and quiet. Soft light from the ceiling lamps glowed across the carpet. Only three rooms were on this top floor.

Next door was the 3rd-year Primus’s room. At the end of the hall were the doors of the 2nd-year Primus, Seris. I paused for a second, looking down the hall toward her door. I smirked softly, shaking my head as her flat voice echoed in my mind.

"Stepping on her feet will be less embarrassing for you."

"She really doesn’t lose a banter," I muttered under my breath.

I turned and walked to the central elevator, taking it down to the lower floor. When the elevator doors slid open with a soft click, I stepped out into the hallway. Unlike the clean, fancy look of the upper Primus floor, the door to Room 10 looked like it had survived an explosion.

Black soot marks stained the edges of the wooden frame, and the small brass plate reading "Caster Ironwell, Rank 10" was attached crooked.

I didn’t knock softly. I raised my fist and banged on the door three times.

"Caster! Open up!"

For five seconds, there was only the sound of metal clattering inside, followed by a curse, a loud thud, and the frantic scrape of boots on stone.

The door swung open.

Caster stood in the doorway, looking like he had just been pulled out of a storm. His messy brown hair stuck out in all directions.

His face was smudged with black grease. His tie hung loose over a shirt that wasn’t buttoned properly. He wasn’t wearing his formal suit. Instead, he had thick leather work gloves on his hands and a small brass visor pushed up on his forehead.

He stared at me with wide, dead eyes, blinking slowly against the light.

"Leo," Caster said, his voice raspy from lack of sleep. "You look like a high noble about to buy an entire kingdom. Why are you staring at me like I stole your money?"

"You look like you were thrown into a forge," I said dryly, leaning against the doorframe. "Did you forget the Grand Banquet starts tonight? Why aren’t you dressed?"

"Dressed?" Caster let out a dry, manic laugh. "Do I look like I had time to care about silk trousers? I’ve been up for thirty-six hours straight working on this damn thing!"

He stepped back and waved his hand toward the heavy wooden workbench in the middle of his room. The room was a mess. Loose gears, blueprints, and half-built magical devices covered every surface.

In the center of the table, resting on a velvet cloth, was my black steel katana, Tempest.

"Is it finished?" I asked, walking into the room.

"Finish?" Caster scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Seriously, Boss... what even is this sword? Where did you get this thing?"

He walked over and pointed at the dark blade.

"I’ve worked with good metals before, but this katana isn’t normal," Caster said, his hazel eyes locked on mine.

"It absorbs mana like a sponge and handles multiple affinities without cracking. There are a lot of great swords out there, but whoever made this... they made it for you. The balance, the flow, it’s built for your body."

My gaze softened as I looked at the dark steel blade.

Tempest.

Caster was right. Tempest was forged for me in the village of Wayford during my Path Trial. An old dwarven blacksmith made it, he saw something stubborn in me. It was pulled out of the trial realm through a breach and returned to me by the Forgotten One.

It was more than just metal. It was my anchor.

"A very stubborn old dwarf made it," I said softly, tapping the hilt.

"Well, he knew what he was doing," Caster grumbled, scratching his neck.

"I couldn’t change the core, I didn’t want to ruin it, so I focused on reinforcing the runes on the hilt and guard. I improved its mana flow. Now when you channel your power through it, it uses less of your energy and gives more power to your strikes. It’ll absorb your mana faster and hit harder."

He picked up the dark katana carefully and handed it back to me.

I grabbed the dark scabbard of Tempest. The moment my fingers wrapped around the hilt, a subtle, cold hum ran through my palm.

I slowly pulled the blade out an inch. The dark steel looked the same, but I could feel the difference right away. The mana flowed through the hilt much smoother than before. The small runes Caster had carved into the guard made it easier to channel my lightning, space, and Soul Flame.

That meant faster draws and less wasted mana.

"This is incredible, Caster," I murmured, sliding the blade back into its scabbard with a crisp click. "Your runic craftsmanship is getting ridiculous. You’re far better at this than I am."

"Of course I am, I’m half-dwarf!" Caster grunted, though a small, proud smile touched his lips before he wiped it away. "Don’t get used to it. Next time you ask me to modify a spatial weapon on a three-day deadline, I’m charging you three thousand credits."

"Shut up. You’re my personal slave. Of course you’ll work for me," I said with a soft smile.

With a flick of my wrist, I stored Tempest in my void pocket. The black katana vanished, ready to be summoned in an instant if things went wrong tonight. I looked at Caster, who was already turning back toward his messy desk.

"Alright, get washed up and put your suit on," I said, pointing a finger at him. "We need to get going soon."

Caster froze. He slowly turned around, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous, awkward smile.

"Yeah... about that," Caster muttered, his voice dropping a little. "I, uh... I actually have to go pick up my date first."

I paused, blinking once. "Huh? Your date?"

"Yeah."

"You have a date?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "With who?"

Caster rubbed his neck, looking down at his boots. "...Julia."

Silence filled the cluttered room for two long seconds. I stared at him, my expression completely flat.

"Wait," I said, holding up a hand. "What did you just say? Who are you going with?"

"Julia Moss," Caster mumbled, his face turning red. "The girl from our team."

"What the fuck?" I blurted out.

"We’re not—"

"What the fuck?" I repeated, louder this time, staring at him in sheer disbelief.

"Leo, listen to me—"

"What the fuck, man?!" I said for the third time, throwing my hands up. "Since when are you two a thing?! You barely spoke two sentences to each other before the auction three days ago!"

"You already said that three times!" Caster yelled back in a panic, his face burning bright red.

"It’s not like that! We just... after the auction, we bumped into each other at the library, and then we talked about arrays, and then... well, she was terrified of going to the banquet alone because of all the high nobles, and I didn’t want to stand around awkward in a corner, so I asked her!"

I stared at him, shaking my head in pure disbelief before a sly smirk spread across my face.

"Bro, you two are moving at light speed," I teased, a sly smirk spreading across my face. "What’s next? You’re going to tell me you’re getting married by the end of the term?"

"Shut up!" Caster barked. "You don’t even have a girlfriend! How would a dense bastard like you know anything about this?!"

"Hey, I have a partner tonight," I retorted smoothly.

"Yeah, Malva! Your teammate!" Caster snorted, crossing his arms.

"That doesn’t count and you know it! Besides, if you keep acting like a dense block of wood, mark my words, boss, someone better is going to come along and take Seris away from you! You’re going to stand there like an idiot and watch her walk off with someone else just because you’re too dense to see what’s right in front of your face!"

Before he could finish his sentence, I raised my hand and smacked the back of his head with a swift, playful thud.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Caster grumbled, rubbing his head.

"For talking nonsense," I chuckled, turning back toward the door. "Listen to me, Caster. Julia gets scared easily around loud noises and big crowds. Don’t leave her side at the hall, got it? Act like a proper man."

Caster paused, his defensive posture relaxing as he looked at me. He gave a quiet, firm nod. "Yeah. I know. I won’t let anything happen to her."

"Good. Don’t be late," I called over my shoulder as I stepped out into the hall.

_

Meanwhile, in the living area of Arthur’s dorm suite...

Arthur Vale sat on the edge of a wooden chair, letting out a long, tired sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his whole life.

Rumors about the Fallen were spreading quietly among the higher ranks. Even though the teachers tried to keep things calm, Arthur had heard enough to know danger was coming to Aegis. He wanted to help. He wanted to protect the people around him — just like he always did.

But right now, he was facing a completely different kind of nightmare.

"Arthur! Which one looks better?!"

Arthur slowly looked up. Standing near the mirror in the center of the room were Amelia and Nyra.

Amelia held up two dresses against her waist — one dark blue with silver stitching on the sleeves, and the other a purple gown with soft lace. Her midnight-blue hair fell past her shoulders, and her silver-violet eyes watched him with quiet anticipation.

Beside her, Nyra fidgeted uncomfortably in a dark leather-trimmed dress that hugged her lean, athletic body. She had already changed into it, but her grey wolf ears twitched nervously at every sound, and her bushy tail was wrapped tight around her waist under the fabric.

"We’ve been asking you for forty-five minutes, Arthur," Nyra muttered softly, her amber eyes darting toward him. "Just pick one so we can leave..."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

If I say the blue one looks better, Amelia will think I dislike the purple one. If I say both look great, they’ll think I’m not paying attention. If I mention Nyra’s dress, Amelia might sulk...

He knew better than to speak carelessly. Saying the wrong thing right now would be the last mistake he ever made.

Arthur looked at Nyra first. When they first met, he knew she stayed close partly because beastkin naturally followed strength and looked for a strong leader. He hadn’t expected much from her back then.

But over the past months, as they trained and fought together, he realized how honest and loyal she really was. She didn’t just see him as a strong fighter, she cared about him deeply, often forgetting to eat or sleep just to make sure he was okay.

He hadn’t fully accepted her feelings yet, but she meant a lot more to him now than before. She was family.

Then his eyes moved to Amelia.

Guilt immediately hit Arthur’s chest. She was his childhood friend, and Leo von Celestial’s former fiancée.

Every time he looked at her gentle smile, he felt a sick twist of self-hatred for falling in love with someone he shouldn’t have. He had done something wrong, something he couldn’t take back. But Amelia had chosen to stay by his side anyway.

She knew there were other girls around him.

She didn’t throw fits, but Arthur could always tell when she was sulking. She had already made it clear, with a half-joking, half-serious pout days ago, that no matter who came into his life, she would always be first.

"Arthur?" Amelia called softly, tilting her head. "Is something wrong?"

Arthur swallowed his guilt, stepped forward, and took both of their hands in his. Amelia blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly, while Nyra’s wolf ears perked up instantly.

"Listen to me, both of you," Arthur said, his voice soft, earnest, and completely genuine. "It doesn’t matter which dress you choose. You both look incredible. You don’t need to wear something fancy just to impress anyone else. Wear whatever makes your heart feel comfortable."

He smiled gently at them. "Besides, the banquet is starting soon. If we keep standing here debating colors, we’re going to miss it."

Amelia stared at him for a second before a soft, beautiful smile broke across her face. "Alright, Arthur. The blue one it is."

Nyra let out a quiet breath of relief. "Good. Leather feels better anyway."

_

Leaving Caster’s dorm, I walked toward the lower residential area.

I stopped outside Room 114’s grey brick building and leaned against a pillar near the entrance, adjusting the black leather gloves covering my hands. I had texted Malva earlier, telling her I would wait outside whenever she was ready. I didn’t want to rush her.

Around me, several lower-ranked students walking toward the main paths kept stealing glances at me. Whispers broke out among a group of second-year commoners.

"Is that... Leo Celestial?"

"What is a Primus doing down at the Rank 100 dorms?"

"Look at his hair... and that coat..."

"Wait, who is he waiting for?"

I ignored the quiet murmur of the crowd, keeping my eyes fixed on the doors of the dormitory. A moment later, the door creaked open. A girl stepped out into the evening air, stopping right at the top of the stone steps.

Malva stood there, holding a small silver pouch against her waist. Lyra had done a good job.

Her usual messy black hair was styled into a soft half-up braid that fell down her back. She wore a simple dark violet dress that left her shoulders bare, one of the options Lyra had picked. It flowed down to her ankles without being too flashy or puffy.

It wasn’t a fancy noble dress, but it suited her pale skin and slim frame perfectly. She looked stunning. When her sharp black eyes locked onto mine, she paused on the top step, taking in my white silk coat, grey shirt, and gloves.

"Leo," Malva said, her deadpan voice completely flat as she walked down toward me. "You look good."

"Of course I do," I chuckled smoothly, offering a brief smirk. "You forget who I am? I’d look good even on my deathbed."

Malva let out a soft, almost soundless sigh, faintly shaking her head at my confidence. "I suppose you would."

My smirk softened into something more gentle as I looked at her properly. "Jokes aside... you look really good, Malva. Lyra did a fantastic job."

"She was persistent," Malva noted, her expression unreadable. "She tried to make me wear three different hair ribbons. I refused."

"I’m glad you held your ground," I smiled, stepping closer. Then, keeping my voice lower, I asked, "Are you doing alright with all this? I know such events aren’t really your thing. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just let me know."

Malva looked at me for a beat, her sharp eyes softening just a fraction. "I’m fine. I’m here to do my part."

"Good," I nodded, extending my gloved arm toward her. "Shall we then? The rest of the group is waiting for us."

Malva didn’t hesitate or show any awkward shyness. She reached out, rested her hand lightly over my forearm, and fell into step right beside me.

Standing next to her, I knew there wasn’t a single shred of romance between us, nor did either of us ever pretend there was. My feelings belonged somewhere else, and Malva wasn’t looking for love either.

What we had was built on a contract, mutual respect, hard work, and a quiet trust that we had earned through fighting and working alongside. She was the backbone of my team, my reliable partner, and someone who didn’t need to hide in the shadows tonight.

Together, we walked up the stone pathway toward the brightly lit central palace, ready for the Grand Banquet.