《The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters》


 Blurb & Echo

    Blurb


    I go by many names: Richter von Deutschland, Archduke of Germany,Empire''sHeart,theStorm Wolf.


    I have stood in the corner, not knowing what to think, watching the other wolves play together.


    I have sat under the night sky, gazing across the vast sea, feeling the waves splash against my shoes.


    I have lain in an endless expanse of silver, letting the snowflakes melt on my nose.


    I have hidden in the empty library, tasting the gentlest whispers.


    I have grasped the stars in my hands, standing atop a tower with no end.


    I have commanded storms, tearing hundreds of massive starships to pieces, bringing a long interplanetary war to an end.


    I have wandered through the silent void, finding my place in the world through extreme loneliness.


    But... I have not always known what I truly am.


    If I close my eyes, the most vivid image that comes to mind is the time I was constantly called a "."


    I suppose these are just fragments of many facets.


    To clearly explain who I am, I must begin from the very star,or perhaps the end.


    So, let me tell you my story...


    Echo: This could be a beginning, and also an end.


    My vision was a bit blurred, but I could vaguely see several collapsing spheres of flame and dark red droplets reflecting the flickering firelight, floating around.


    It''s so cold.


    The damp, cold sensation on my skin made me certain that I had lost enough blood to soak almost all of my fur. Bit by bit, it continued to flow slowly but steadily.


    Is there anyone here?


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I tried to move or speak, but quickly realized I was too weak to accomplish either.


    It''s just me.


    Suddenly, I reflexively started coughing, but even this final dying instinct sounded so powerless. I was about to choke on my own blood.


    Is this what the end looks like?


    The burning sensation in my lungs did not lessen, but I could no longer even maintain basic reflexes, resigning myself to the sound of my own labored breathing. As my body relaxed again, I decided to let everything go, to drift freely in the eternal void, and not continue to struggle in vain. After all, I had fought so hard all my life, but it seemed I had never truly accomplished anything significant, except for satisfying my childish whims.


    In the end, I was still alone.


    But at that moment, there seemed to be a sound coming from a very distant place. What was it? It seemed to be calling someone... Who? That was... my name. The name bestowed upon me amid shame and disdain, why does it sound so... so...


    "...Richter!" he called out hoarsely, but to me, it sounded like a distant echo from the other end of the universe.


    Oh, you''re still here. I thought I had abandoned you too.


    This was probably just my imagination or some kind of near-death hallucination, but I seemed to feel the most genuine warmth and the most fervent emotions from his embrace.


    My mind cleared a bit, and a warm current surged through my body, like an untamed, roaring tide, demanding reality to submit to its will. He was trying to heal me... What an incredible power, to defy death and deny causality with sheer persistence.


    I couldn''t help but smile wryly, thinking about how countless people feared and cursed me under the title "Storm Wolf," and how I had once been compared to a star in strength... Have you ever heard the roar of a black hole?


    I took a breath to steady myself, but then a pain that felt like it was tearing all my organs apart surged through me, turning the warm current into scalding plasma, making me boil from the inside.


    I didn''t hear my own screams, only the lingering echoes moaning in the void.


    "Didn''t I tell you..." I said, panting and avoiding large movements, "...not to mess around without professional knowledge?" I forced a smile, not wanting to blame him too harshly, and swallowed back the blood rising in my throat, suppressing the accompanying pain and spasms.


    He murmured something like an apology, but I couldn''t hear it clearly, just as I could no longer see him clearly. But I knew I would never forget this face... and the details of this face that only appeared during our moments alone.


    As the energy flow disappeared, I quickly felt the last warmth of my life continue to drain from my broken body, drifting me inevitably toward the end.


    In the final moment, what should I say as a farewell?


    Or should I use this remaining strength for a farewell?


    Am I doing this to comfort him, or to comfort myself?


    I had come so far, overcome so many challenges and difficulties, and yet my pride still refused to let go?


    I had made so many mistakes, made so many people cry, only to disappoint more people, wasn''t that enough?


    With blurred vision, I met Luther''s brown eyes. He might have been crying, but I didn''t see disappointment. What I saw was... my own blue eyes looking back at me, like a pale blue dot in the vast darkness of space.


    That reminded me of many things.


    "Time is running out," I said, mustering all my remaining strength, knowing this was the last time I would expand my mind. "There are still many things to do." I tried to laugh lightly, closing my eyes to save a bit of energy. After all, I couldn''t see anymore.


    He responded with a gentle squeeze of my hand, understanding my meaning, and expanded his mind, accepting me.


    I was grateful to be fully aware that at this moment, I was not alone.


    Our minds fused, the endless void of the universe contracted to a single point, and then, with a brilliance that existed only at the dawn of the world, all the deepest cries of the soul blossomed.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.1

    Mongrel: Grey in pure white


    I suddenly sat up in bed, struggling to catch my breath. I threw aside the soaked blanket and stared at the sweat stains on the sheets below me. Everything was sticky--the pillow, the mattress, and all the fur on my body.


    I sighed, glanced around the room, and then focused my senses to feel the vibrations beneath the world''s surface.


    The other wolves in the dormitory emitted steady, rhythmic pulses, a sign of deep sleep. A few had sharp, jagged spikes mixed in, probably having nightmares. But everyone was still asleep.


    After confirming this, I carefully got out of bed, changed the sheets, grabbed clean clothes, and headed to the shower room.


    Due to the various strange things that always seem to happen to me, I developed many nearly obsessive habits to cope. I always go to bed after everyone else is asleep and wake up before anyone else does. Any slight noise can wake me up.


    Frequent vivid dreams are the least of my worries, even though I forget most of them shortly after waking. The feeling, however, always lingers. It''s as if there''s a hollow spot in my chest, something that should be there but isn''t, and the emptiness never goes away.


    But today''s scenario seemed new. I''m not entirely sure, as I''ll probably forget it soon enough. I never understand how my subconscious forms these images I''ve never seen before. Other times, the dreams that wake me up are the most real--entangled memories from the past.


    "...This is your responsibility! Grey will not tolerate this insult!" a voice roared, the anger in the words making the air vibrate.


    "Snow isn''t a faction where you can dump whatever you want," another voice replied impatiently, as if explaining a simple concept with great effort, causing a low growl from the other.


    "He is ''white,'' I think that explains everything! Not to mention your filthy..."


    "Watch your words, or they''ll be your last," I could hear the gritting of teeth. "That bitch..."


    "You''ve got some nerve..." growls and the sound of a scuffle.


    "Enough," an older voice said, stopping the argument. "Snow will keep the pup, and that settles it." The voice was firm and unchallengeable. "No faction is to speak of this again."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Various murmurs of agreement buzzed, forming a chorus of low whispers. One word was repeated many times, spat out like something dirty.


    I sighed, pulling myself from the memory.


    When I began to speak, the first word I understood was " ". Everyone always gave me a disdainful sideways glance, muttering the word just loud enough for me to hear. Occasionally, they would say it to my face, depending on their mood.


    It never bothered me much; loneliness is just a state one gets used to. At least, that''s what I told myself.


    Even though the sun wasn''t up yet, I perked my ears and sniffed the air, confirming the shower room was empty--no scents, no sounds, no traces, just some vibrations from a small insect on the wall.


    After a quick shower, I gathered the remaining water on my fur into my hands, forming a stream that flowed from my fingertips into the drain. I''ve always been able to do this, like some instinctual way to dry off. Over the years, I''ve become more proficient, making the process faster.


    I decided early on not to mention these abilities to anyone--the pack doesn''t favor those who stand out too much. Even without these near-supernatural skills, I was already different enough.


    Using the communal dryers would attract unwanted attention with their noisy motors, something I definitely didn''t need more of.


    After changing into clean clothes, I washed my sweat-soaked sheets and other items in the sink, wrung them out, shook them to avoid wrinkles, and then went to the balcony. I pulled out the drying rack I had found earlier, letting the morning sun dry the still-damp fabric.


    I''ve tried, but I can''t control external liquids like I can with the water on my fur, not even those on my clothes. Maybe it needs more practice, or maybe there''s a specific rule? Until I figure it out, hand-washing and sun-drying my clothes has become a daily routine--the washing machine could never just simply wash my clothes.


    Enjoying the warm morning sunlight, I jumped up and grabbed a metal rod extending from the wall. I smiled, swinging my body and tail to adjust my position, gripping the rod tightly to avoid falling.


    A few years ago, I couldn''t reach it. Back then, I could only jump and hope to grow tall enough to grab it. They say it''s an effective way to grow taller, something about gravity.


    I wasn''t sure I believed it, but it''s good to have hope. Being the shortest among my peers, even though my growth spurt isn''t over, feels a bit off. Mostly, it''s a way to entertain myself, especially when no other wolves want to play with me. Learning how to play alone becomes an important skill.


    When my arms ached unbearably and began to tremble, I let go and dropped back to the ground. Shaking out my hands to restore blood flow, I looked at my calloused paws, thinking it might make gripping easier.


    Glancing at the sun''s position, I checked the time and then took down the mostly dry clothes and sheets, hiding the drying rack in its inconspicuous spot. I returned to the room and put everything away.


    I moved quietly, and by the time I closed the bedroom door behind me, no one had noticed.


    So far, so good.


    Leaning against the cold wall, I took a deep breath, listening carefully and planning my route to the cafeteria for breakfast. I heard footsteps; a few early risers were already awake. I sighed inwardly, accepting the start of another challenging day.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.2

    "Mountains Andalusia." I had given up on finding any pattern to the food synthesizer, so I randomly picked the first word that popped into my head each day. It became a sort of grim amusement.


    The food synthesizer in the cafeteria gave me... a plate of toast crusts.


    I shrugged. At least there was a small dish of something that looked like jam on the side. Since the base organic materials for food printing were the same, it didn''t really matter what the synthesizer made. The differences were only in texture and appearance, things that affect appetite but not nutrition.


    I had wondered if this was some kind of joke targeted at me, but my years of being bullied had taught me that bullies weren''t this patient. It was just another of the strange occurrences that seemed to happen around me. Compared to being able to dry myself off with a thought, this didn''t seem that odd--after all, who really understands the workings of food synthesizers or washing machines?


    I chose a corner seat and picked up a dry, hard crust, dipping it into the red jam. Let''s be optimistic--it might actually be jam.


    I sniffed it, but there was no real scent. Just as I was about to take a bite, a slap on the back of my head almost sent the crust into my nose.


    "Sorry..." said two passing wolves in mocking tones. "...mutt." They coughed the word out as if trying to hide it, but I was sure everyone in the cafeteria heard.


    I ignored the eyes waiting for a reaction and the cruel whispers. I was certain that one day, I would leave the Senate, unlike most wolves who spent their entire lives here. So, this would all end someday, as long as I was patient.


    I just wished the food synthesizer could give me something I could eat quickly. But life never gave me easy options. Skipping lunch was a regular occurrence, so if I didn''t want to be hungry until evening, I had to endure the less crowded morning times.


    Before I finished the tough and dry crusts, I encountered two more instances of harassment. At least today, no one tried to pour some liquid on me. Ah, spoke too soon.


    I felt the bubbling pink liquid splash onto my face. But I hadn''t tried to avoid it--I lacked the motivation. It wouldn''t change anything anyway.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Amid the laughter, I closed my left eye, listening to the sound of my clothes and fur on the left side soaking up the liquid, gathering at the tips of my fur and then dripping onto the floor.


    Life never gave simple options, right?


    At the washbasin in the shower room, I hung up my washed clothes and looked at myself in the mirror.


    Snow-white fur paired with eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. White fur and blue eyes were the standard look for all Snow faction wolves--I even had a black nose. I knew some Snows were mocked for having pink or spotted noses.


    Even though I looked the same on the outside, I, like everyone else, could tell at a glance that I was different.


    I grabbed my tail, searching through the tip until I found a small tuft of gray fur. Plucking them out one by one was painful, and they always grew back gray, but I still gritted my teeth and pulled them out, flushing them down the basin.


    The only good thing was that the gray fur was only at the tip of my tail.


    I looked at myself in the mirror again, half my fur still pink and wet, perfectly illustrating my image--a mutt. I focused on the faucet, cupping water in my hand, and a thought crossed my mind.


    I guided the water through my fur, dissolving and diluting the dirt, then letting it flow back into the sink.


    Wow, I actually managed it. I couldn''t help but smile at the pure white wolf in the mirror.


    I sensed a familiar presence approaching. Oh no, it''s him. The last person I wanted to see right now.


    "Are you going to let them do this to you?" Piqsirpoq''s voice was harsh, his arms crossed and his nose wrinkled, baring his fangs slightly.


    "I don''t think I have much of a choice..." I muttered, putting on my still-dripping shirt and starting to button it. I didn''t dare call him brother, knowing he wouldn''t allow it.


    "Why won''t you defend yourself?" He was in front of me in an instant, gripping my open collar and pinning me to the shower wall. I felt the cold tile against my back.


    "I don''t want to be like them..." I whispered, ears drooping and eyes averting his gaze.


    "So you''d rather be weak?" His voice rose as he grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him, my tail curling between my legs.


    "I''m not weak..." I mumbled, ears flat against my head.


    "Yes, you are. This is exactly what weakness looks like!" he shouted, fur bristling. I tried not to focus on his exposed fangs, but he brought his face close to mine. "Pathetic."


    He released me and stepped back, his icy eyes glaring down at me, as blue a frozen lake.


    I finished buttoning my shirt and straightened it, still staring at the floor.


    "No one wants you because you''re so useless." With that, Piqsirpoq turned and swinging his tail sharply to the left as he left the shower room.


    After making sure he was gone, I returned to the sink, wiped some water on my head and trying to perk my ears back up. I rubbed my eyes and sniffled. While tidying my fur, I wondered what others saw when they looked at this blue-eyed, white-furred wolf.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.3

    The air conditioning in the lecture hall made the temperature and humidity quite comfortable, though the vibrations it generated were somewhat distracting. Therefore, I chose a front-row corner seat, as far from the air conditioner as possible.


    The seats fanned out from the central podium, rising in height as they moved away from the center. This arrangement always reminded me of the design of ancient Greek theaters. It was said that to protect the young wolves'' eyes, the lecture halls were not equipped with electronic light-emitting screens.


    I glanced up at the projection screen and then at the students in the back of the hall, many of whom were propping their chins with one hand while scrolling through their personal terminals with the other.


    "Classical geneticists noted that the principles of segregation and independent assortment could not explain all the variations in trait frequencies between parent and offspring. It wasn''t until the advent of epigenetics that there was another significant leap forward in the field..."


    A small paper ball hit my ear and then rolled to the side, joining several other paper balls on the floor.


    Sometimes, their persistence amazed me.


    "...Inheritance that does not involve changes to the genetic code! Who could have imagined, the golden rule..." Master Faurik''s voice trailed off as I looked up from my book to see a wolf raising his right hand, his tail held high.


    "Yes, Aptur?" Faurik raised an eyebrow, clearly curious why a usually uninterested wolf was suddenly so enthusiastic.


    "Master," Aptur''s mock respectful tone almost made me gag, and he even lowered his ears. "So, what kind of inheritance do mutt have?"


    I didn''t even bother rolling my eyes. Could they show a bit of logic and creativity?


    "What?" The elderly wolf clearly didn''t understand Aptur''s implication, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at the white wolf feigning innocence. By now, most of the students in the hall had given up stifling their laughter, beating their thighs or desks in uproar.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Academic masters often had this problem, too immersed in their own world to notice the changes around them.


    Faurik scanned the noisy lecture hall, his gaze finally landing on me, his slightly widened eyes showing a look of realization.


    Ah yes, welcome to my world.


    "Aptur!" The master scolded the young wolf angrily, beginning a lecture that was drowned out by the rowdy laughter in the hall. I couldn''t hear a word he was saying, only seeing Aptur''s deliberately lowered ears and the slowly swaying high-held tail. I was sure he shot me a sidelong glance, grinning and baring the tips of his canines.


    I turned my attention back to the content in my book, trying to escape the meaningless noise and continue my reading. Fortunately, that was easy; their pitiful whispers were no more distracting than the air conditioner''s hum.


    "Richter." The master called out to me as I packed up my things in the nearly empty lecture hall.


    "Master?" I asked submissively, lowering my eyes and ears.


    The old wolf walked over to me, opening his mouth slightly but hesitating to speak. Most of his white fur had lost its luster, looking a bit... scruffy against his flannel plaid shirt. But I knew those deep gray-blue eyes always shone with a wise light.


    "Your last report was very well done," the master said, clearly changing the topic. "The essence of taxonomic nomenclature." I noticed the master''s slight smile.


    "Thank you." I scratched my ear unconsciously, feeling a bit embarrassed by the compliment.


    "I think you have great potential." He continued with that faint smile. "Tell me, what do you think about museums?"


    "Master?" I sensed the possible direction of this conversation but was too surprised to organize my thoughts properly.


    "I showed your report to my colleague at Oceanus Procellarum University. He found it very interesting." The master tilted his head, seemingly amused by my reaction. "He hasn''t taken on students for many years, but who knows, a smart and promising intern..." He emphasized the last few words.


    "The Lunar?" I couldn''t suppress my excitement, raising my voice as my tail and ears stood straight up. Realizing my gaffe, I quickly scanned the lecture hall with my mind, relieved to find only the two of us there.


    "You still have three years of basic education, right?" The master chuckled at my reaction. "Think it over carefully and use this time to further develop yourself."


    "Thank you!" I jumped up, almost hugging the old wolf, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "Ahem... I mean, I won''t let you down, Master." I controlled myself, lowered my gaze and ears, and tried to speak calmly.


    Master Faurik patted my arm encouragingly, then left the lecture hall with a slight wag of his tail.


    Suddenly, I noticed a strange feeling I had never experienced before.


    It was a cool breeze blowing past my calves.


    I turned to look back, only to see my white tail swaying rapidly, the fur at the tip brushing against the desks with a swishing sound.


    In the empty lecture hall, I immersed myself in this rhythmic sound, sharing such a foreign emotion with myself.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.4

    My mood was so good that even during the evening training session, my tail couldn''t help but lightly sway.


    "Focus, you ignorant pups!" Master Qana, our swordsmanship instructor, shouted as usual, spitting as he spoke. "Half of you will serve in the Praetorian Guards in the future. If you can''t even hold a sword properly, don''t you dare say I taught you anything!" He slapped the back of the head of a wolf I didn''t know, then adjusted his stance.


    The training sessions were for the entire faction, so every Snow who hadn''t finished their basic education, would be present. I didn''t need to focus on disturbance of Piqsirpoq''s vibration to know that he was still in a bad mood.


    "You must master at least one ''real'' melee weapon. If all you can handle is a pulse spear, you''ll spend your life as wall decorations!" Master Qana walked past me, adjusting a few others'' stances. "Only real melee weapons can become an extension of your body. One day, this will make all the difference, so remember it!"


    Slash, thrust, parry, and block, we practiced these movements and stances over and over. Qana had said we must make these reactions instinctual, something we''d remember even in our dreams. I think I''ve actually dreamed about it a few times.


    "Feel the direction of the air, the shift in your center of gravity, and the vibration hidden in all living things." That last sentence made one of my ears perk up. Had he ever said that before? "Practicing basic stances cannot replace actual demonstrations, but if you can''t even hold your stance while standing still, how will you manage in a fight where there''s no room for error?" I heard a loud slap and a small whimper. "I''m talking about you, Trapper!"


    Still, only those of commander rank and above would be assigned swords, which meant most of us would spend our lives wielding pulse spears.


    And why would making a weapon an extension of your body be so crucial? I used to think it was just Master Qana''s interpretation, but after he mentioned the vibrations of living things, I started to reconsider his teachings.


    But this has little to do with me. I never planned to make a living swinging a sword. It might be odd for a wolf to think this way, but I''ve always been uncomfortable with rigid hierarchical structures. I''ve never adapted to them. If I knew I had to spend half my life in the Imperial Guard, I''d probably kill myself quickly--unless I accidentally killed someone else first from frustration--maybe I am an oddity after all, I thought.


    Thankfully, my future was clear, and it definitely wouldn''t be among the pack, not even within the Empire. Why waste any energy worrying about such trivial matters?


    Thinking about the opportunity Master Faurik mentioned, my tail wagged a bit more vigorously.


    "''Sea Ice,'' starting stance!" Qana''s command snapped me out of my thoughts, and I lowered the sword I had been holding, gripping the hilt with both hands naturally, letting the tip point to the ground.


    The training swords were standardized, not customized for the user, available in only a few lengths, and were almost identical to real swords except they weren''t sharpened. After several hours, every wolf was drenched in sweat, especially the younger ones.


    Having practiced since I was nine, these six years had ingrained some habits in me. I wasn''t particularly exhausted. But when we finally got a break, I, like everyone else, gratefully panted for air, though I kept my tongue in my mouth.


    Ten minutes later, Qana began pairing us for sparring demonstrations. As usual, no one wanted to be paired with me. I didn''t mind this at all because Qana would always spar with me personally.


    I don''t mind mastering a skill; I just hate being confined within a certain framework.


    A scream from nearby drew everyone''s attention, making all the gray wolves perk up their ears and look in the direction of the sound.


    I did the same, feeling somewhat awkward. I slowly lowered my ears, adjusting my stance uncomfortably.


    "Piqsirpoq!" Qana shouted angrily. "How many times have I told you this is practice? If you have so much energy, the dust in the storeroom won''t clean itself!"


    It seemed my brother had injured someone again. This was probably the only situation where we both ended up equally unwelcome.


    "Piqsirpoq seems to be getting angrier lately."


    "After all, there''s only a year left until the Selection. It''s normal to be nervous."


    "That guy with his tail always up gets nervous? That''s hilarious!"


    "Shh, if he hears you, someone''s going to get it again..."


    Whispers and murmurs of speculation and rumors spread around me.


    I actually had almost no interaction with Piqsirpoq. Most of what I knew about him came from overheard conversations.


    Brave, decisive, clever, though a bit hot-tempered, he was still an outstanding leader--essentially embodying all the qualities highly valued by the wolves.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    According to most rumors, it was certain that Piqsirpoq would be a candidate for the Elector next year from the Snow. Some even said he would not only become an Elector but also eventually sit on the Imperial throne.


    Oh, and there were some odd gossip pieces, more admiration or curiosity-driven. Like how he was incredibly disciplined, eating the same simple porridge for every meal, never changing for years, like some kind of ascetic monk. Or how he would sneak off to meditate in a mysterious posture late at night to rest his soul and train his body.


    But other than occasionally showing up to teach me a lesson when he thought I''d dishonored our "half" bloodline and these evening training sessions, we had no real interaction.


    I shook my head, trying to clear away the cluttered thoughts.


    As if I would care.


    "... Pair up with Richter." Hearing those fateful words, I felt like I''d been struck by lightning. My ears, tail, and fur all stood on end, and all the wolves turned to look at me.


    With an overly loud growl and grumbling, Piqsirpoq gripped his sword hilt in reverse, his face full of murderous intent as he approached me.


    The surrounding wolves all took a step back in unison, creating a small space around us.


    My ears flattened against my head, and I felt the tickling sensation of my curled-up tail touching my pants. In despair, I looked to Qana for help, but he was busy instructing others, clearly unable to spare any attention for me.


    "Are you trying to embarrass me in front of the pack?" Piqsirpoq growled through gritted teeth, his fur bristling, making him appear twice as big. I''d heard that frequent bristling was bad for the heart.


    I swallowed hard and picked up the practice sword.


    I could feel all the eyes on me, waiting for the drama to unfold. I really wished I knew how to turn off this sense of perception... the last thing I needed was more pressure.


    Piqsirpoq took the "Glacier" starting stance, holding the sword with both hands, raising it as if resting it on his shoulder, with the tip pointing back toward the ground, his body half-turned, his weight on his slightly bent back leg.


    I raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. He was either extremely confident or even more irritable than usual--I thought that was impossible.


    I responded with the "Frost" stance, lowering my body forward, holding the sword parallel to my shoulder, with the hilt against the upper part of my arm.


    As soon as my stance was set, he attacked with incredible speed, rotating his body and swinging the sword horizontally at my head.


    Starting with the "Glacier" stance only had one purpose: an overwhelming powerful strike. Normally, such a large preparatory and swinging motion would expose one to risk.


    But oh my Rationalism, he was fast!


    All I saw was a white blur and a metallic glint. It was impossible to see his movements clearly.


    But since I had guessed his intention, I rotated my body, swinging my sword upward to deflect his attack.


    With a loud metallic clang, the force numbed my fingers, and Piqsirpoq''s strike was slightly different from what I had anticipated.


    The good news was, his hand probably hurt as much as mine, and I sensed a flicker of surprise.


    But he recovered quickly, the deflected force not stopping his motion. Instead, he stepped forward again, spinning his body to bring the airborne sword down from the same direction.


    Though slightly unexpected, I had enough time to follow through with my movement, bringing my sword down in a wide arc from my left side, scraping the ground to return to the "Ice Spike" stance, then using the momentum to swing upward, trying to disarm him.


    Another loud metallic clash, and Piqsirpoq was pushed back a step, but he maintained his balance, using the force to spin and thrust his sword at me with the "Icicle" stance.


    I switched to holding the sword with one hand, meeting his attack with the "Ice Storm" stance, deflecting his thrust and twisting the hilt to entangle our swords.


    Piqsirpoq stepped back, pulling his sword free from my hold. Though he showed no outward sign, I could feel his surprise and a lot of anger.


    Anger, but still calm, like a cold flame absorbing all the surrounding warmth. Piqsirpoq then used the "Hail" stance, delivering a relentless series of slashes. I could only assume the "Rime ice" defensive stance, raising my sword to chest height, the hilt positioned near my solar plexus, deflecting all incoming attacks.


    His movements were so fast that I could no longer see them clearly, but in the moments of critical urgency, I realized I could "feel" his actions. It wasn''t just an analysis of his movements; it was an understanding of... his thoughts.


    The pressure from the surrounding gazes, the focus on finding flaws, the determination to give his all, the anxiety from his faltering attacks, the pride that could only be satisfied by victory, and a slight... unwilling respect?


    Grasping where he intended to attack allowed me to better prepare my stance and promptly defend or evade.


    We were locked in a stalemate for quite some time until both of us began to pant. Piqsirpoq switched to the " Ice shove " stance, delivering powerful overhead strikes, occasionally interspersed with wide, sweeping cuts of the "Glacier" stance.


    I returned to the "Frost" stance, continuously deflecting and redirecting his attacks with the smallest possible movements.


    I wasn''t sure how long it had been--maybe just a few minutes, or perhaps hours--I couldn''t spare the distraction. However, it had been long enough for the difference in our stamina to start showing. I knew I was close to losing my grip on the hilt. Just before my numb fingers completely lost their sense, I managed to deflect Piqsirpoq''s attack one last time, which surprisingly caused my sword to break from the base, producing a sharp snapping sound.


    I wasn''t sure if Piqsirpoq was unable to pull back his momentum in time or if he simply wanted to kill me, but all I could do was watch as his sword came closer to my head. Even though it wasn''t sharpened, I was certain that the impact could crush my skull.


    Suddenly, time seemed to slow down. The sword''s swing felt like it was moving through thick honey, yet its trajectory remained unaltered, heading straight for my head.


    How interesting. Is this what they call seeing your life flash before your eyes?


    But I waited for a moment and didn''t see any past memories rushing by.


    So, I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with Piqsirpoq--my brother--seeing countless emotions of terror flash through his dilated pupils.


    Well, at least I knew he wasn''t really trying to kill me. That''s somewhat comforting.


    Amusingly, my body relaxed, and I even felt an urge to laugh if my physical form weren''t still bound by the constraints of normal time.


    In the next instant, a silver flash appeared, and I barely caught the afterimage of Qana''s upward slash, slicing through Piqsirpoq''s sword, sending it flying into the air.


    After the hilt slipped from Piqsirpoq''s hand, the broken sword piece quickly embedded itself into the ground nearby. My brother, still not comprehending what had happened, fell backward from the momentum, gripping his right hand, his expression frozen in a state of mild terror.


    "You two really want to clean the storeroom, don''t you?" For a moment, Qana''s exasperated question was the only sound in the training field.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.5

    I rubbed my ears. Qana''s shouting still echoed in my head, causing a bit of pain. It had been nearly half an hour since the scolding, a testament to the sword master''s extraordinary volume.


    Seeing Qana wave his hand to close the storeroom door and stomp towards me angrily, I flinched again, shifting my weight uneasily to the other foot, my gaze dropping to the ground.


    "Why did you do that, huh?" The pain from having my ear yanked made me let out a small yelp. "Provoking your brother until he lost control, was it for some kind of vengeful satisfaction, or do you really have a death wish?" Qana bent down, bringing his snout close to my ear. "I thought you were the more mature type, or do you secretly wish to make up for your lost childhood by being treated like a pup?"


    "I didn''t..." I mumbled in a hushed voice, trying to suppress the hiss of pain from my ear.


    "Didn''t?" Qana seemed even angrier, raising his voice and tugging harder on my ear. "Do you think everyone present couldn''t see that you never attacked once, even when you deflected your brother''s strikes to create openings?" The master''s questioning left me speechless, unable to respond. "Clearly, the fight could have ended long ago, so why didn''t you strike?"


    "I didn''t want to hurt him..." I muttered, sniffling.


    "By the ancestors of Snow!" Qana sighed, releasing my ear. "I''m quite sure Piqsirpoq now knows his swordsmanship is no match for yours. I''ve known for a while, and I''m certain you knew too!" The sword master gave me another glare, making me wonder if my tail had curled in on itself twice over. "But soon, everyone on Hadrian''s Wall and even the entire Senatus will know!"


    I think your booming voice had something to do with that, too. Of course, I didn''t dare let any hint of that thought show, just continuing to press my ears flat against my head.


    "I really don''t see how becoming the laughingstock of the Senatus is a good way to avoid getting hurt." Qana sighed again, folding his arms across his chest. "I know you''re smart. We masters do talk amongst ourselves."


    I glanced up at Qana briefly, but the knot in his brows made me lower my gaze again.


    "When I was your age, my swordsmanship probably wasn''t even half as good as yours. And those fluid movements and reactions of yours are... remarkable. So I know that unless something unexpected happens, you''ll undoubtedly become a master in your own right." It felt really nice to be praised by the sword master who seldom did so, though I still forced my ears to stay unresponsive. "But to those self-important fools, you''re just a mutt!"


    Qana had never called me that before. Hearing that word from his mouth felt like a harsh slap, the sting burning like fire. I flinched again, feeling a lump in my throat.


    "Are you ashamed of this identity?" In an instant, Qana grabbed my collar and lifted me up, his spittle spraying on my face as he shouted. "Does being born a mongrel make you ashamed?"Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I couldn''t respond. I wanted to scream something back, to throw a tantrum, to collapse in a heap and pound the ground, to... to... have someone...


    But I couldn''t react at all. My jaw just trembled uncontrollably, and warm liquid slid down from the corners of my eyes.


    I had tried. Tears were not within my control. Rationalism knew why.


    He set me down, placing his large hands on my shoulders, staring directly into my eyes without speaking. We stayed like that for a while.


    "Don''t be ashamed," the sword master said slowly, his voice low. "Be proud."


    I wiped my nose, giving Qana a questioning look through my tear-blurred vision, unable to understand what I should be proud of.


    "No one should ever feel sorry for any inherent trait they are born with." He enunciated each word clearly, his white canines occasionally showing as he spoke. "Whether it''s lineage, faction, fur color, eye color, breed, race, gender, defect... everything is part of you." He tightened his grip on my shoulders. "And we should always be proud of ourselves," Qana''s deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle with something. "Because that is who we are."


    At this close distance, I noticed a scar crossing Qana''s right eye, nearly covered by white fur. The heat from his breath brushed my face, giving me a sense of... warmth.


    "In any case..." He stepped back and cleared his throat awkwardly, patting his clothes. "I may not be the best person to talk to you about this. Rationalism knows how bad I am at expressing myself." He twisted his neck and sighed lightly. "Be proud, okay?"


    I responded with a soft hum, wiping my tears and snot, unsure of how to handle the surge of feelings from deep within.


    "And it''s partly my fault..." Qana tilted his head slightly, scratching the back of his head. "I did intend to teach Piqsirpoq a lesson, but I didn''t expect you to... handle it like this. My intention was for you both to understand each other..." He lowered his hand, exhaling through his nose. "By the way, your parry and riposte was beautiful." Qana looked up at the rising moon. "But if you can''t deliver the decisive strike, it''s meaningless." He said slowly, his mind seemingly drifting elsewhere. "In the future, you''ll face many challenges and difficulties. Do you intend to avoid fighting back every time you encounter conflict? You can''t always just endure. That won''t achieve anything."


    I looked at my shadow cast on the ground by the moonlight, a slender, thin silhouette compared to Qana''s broad and sturdy figure.


    "I don''t want to hurt anyone..." I could barely hear my own voice. "...too many people have been hurt already."


    Qana''s response was to exhale deeply and pat my back.


    "I know you''re kind-hearted, but you also need to understand that kindness alone is often not enough. Life demands more from us." He gave me a somewhat sorrowful smile. "Purpose and meaning--the truest thoughts will guide our actions. You must constantly ask yourself, what do you really want?"


    "I want to..." I felt a bit embarrassed just thinking about it, but I still mustered the courage to speak my thoughts. "...protect those who can''t protect themselves."


    Qana nodded, his eyes filled with understanding, though that sad smile remained.


    "Most people who pick up a weapon actually think that way." He placed his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. "But you must recognize, wielding a sword means you will hurt people."


    I glanced at Piqsirpoq''s broken sword, still stuck in the ground nearby, reflecting the clear moonlight.


    "But for now," Qana suddenly slapped the back of my head, making me jump. "Go help your brother. These complicated matters can wait until you''re older." Qana turned and walked towards the stairs leading to the underground facilities. "For now, just be a mischievous, reckless little pup."


    Watching Qana disappear around the corner, I bent down to pick up the broken sword and glanced in the direction of the storeroom.


    In the moonlight, my shadow gently wagged its tail.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 1 Mutt- 1.6

    The warehouse door slid shut behind me, and I took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.


    Piqsirpoq was sitting on a small stool, wiping down a longsword, and then sneezed.


    I walked over to the toolbox, took out two masks, checked the filters, and put one on my face before handing the other to Piqsirpoq.


    He didn''t look at me or acknowledge me, but at least he took the mask and put it on.


    We continued to avoid each other''s gaze, silently cleaning the storeroom.


    Aside from practice swords, the storeroom housed a few weapons that were clearly outdated and discarded from the armory. I saw a few powerless pulse spears, various styles and materials of staves, and an assortment of swords.


    One particular saber caught my attention. I carefully picked it up, feeling its weight and balance. It wasn''t the eagle-head pommel or the ornate insignia on the guard that intrigued me, but the resonance.


    I flicked the blade, listening to the clear ring that reverberated through the air. It confirmed my suspicion: resonance, a kind of vibration in tune with my consciousness. Unlike the usual biofield resonance of living beings, this was unmistakably a different kind of wave.


    Upon examining the insignia again, I realized it didn''t ring any bells. I shrugged, gave the guard one last stroke with my finger, feeling the resonance until it faded away, and then placed the saber back in its place.


    I''d research it another day, perhaps Qana would be willing to explain its significance.


    The rest of the time, Piqsirpoq and I continued sorting through the weapons, putting them in order, and selecting those with potential defects for discard--including the two we broke today. After finishing, I updated the log on the wall terminal and locked the storage cabinets.


    "Since you''re so skilled, why do you never stand up for yourself?" Piqsirpoq asked, his back to me, tail hanging low and still, his voice muffled by the mask.


    "I don''t want to hurt anyone," I replied softly, doubting I could convince anyone. "Going after those who bully me would make me just like them." But I truly believed this. "And I don''t want to become like them."Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Piqsirpoq didn''t respond, standing there in silence for a long time, unmoving, giving no indication of his thoughts.


    "Do you know what Dad said to me the last time we met before he asked the Senatus


    to exile him?" His voice, though muffled, carried a heavy nasal tone. "He told me to..." Piqsirpoq paused before continuing. "He told me to take care of you."


    Then, he took off his mask, placed it back in the toolbox, waved at the sensor to open the automatic door, and left the storeroom.


    Because it was already late, the dining hall was empty except for me.


    "I don''t want to hurt anyone," I said, inexplicably, to the food synthesizer. Unsurprisingly, the machine wasn''t convinced either, as it provided me with a bowl of brown, viscous goo.


    Regardless of how odd it looked, it was still food. So I didn''t complain, shoveling spoonfuls of the organic paste into my mouth.


    After dinner, I headed straight to the showers. Still alone, maybe I had a bit of good luck left to spend.


    Standing under the shower head, I looked up at the tiny holes.


    Something was there.


    I knew it sounded vague, but I could feel that something was different, that something was there...


    Raising my hand seemed to help; I could sense that rhythm more clearly.


    It was strange yet familiar, something I had always overlooked. But now, I saw it.


    It was the water, the rhythm of water molecules swaying under hydrogen bonds. Delving deeper, I found the structure beyond my reach, yet still faintly sensed the polarization from uneven electron cloud distributions and the quark-level vibrations.


    It felt like seeing the truth and holding the world in my hands.


    With my consciousness, I directed the residual water in the pipes, guiding the flow against gravity as I willed.


    It was... magical.


    The water flowed in a circle around me, defying gravity. I touched the surface with the tip of my claw, feeling the turbulence, and the splashed droplets hit my face.


    Like a fool, I laughed at the wondrous sight.


    I felt the other water on the floor, within reach, as if it were an extension of my body. With a command of my mind, all the liquid rose into the air, forming a shimmering, suspended curtain.


    It was somewhat gross upon reflection, but my excitement overrode any such concerns.


    Using one foot as a pivot, I spun around, my tail raised for balance, enveloping myself in a large hollow water sphere. The differing speeds of rotation caused waves to ripple across the surface, the ceiling lights casting patterns akin to those on a gas giant onto my body.


    So beautiful.


    How had I missed this before?


    Tensing my body, I increased my spinning speed, feeling all the synchronized waves around me. Those waves resonated with me, creating a symphony in response to my existence.


    I was a string in the symphony of the world, vibrating at my unique frequency, resonating with everything.


    Amid the swirling water and shifting light, I danced with all my might, feeling the wet warmth of tears sliding down my cheeks.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - Surprise

    Surprise: Humility needs practice - usually by taking a beating.


    "''Frost,'' starting stance." I gave the command, and Luther assumed the corresponding stance.


    Barely passable, but acceptable.


    I tapped him lightly between the ears with the flat of my blade.


    "Ow!" he yelped in protest, holding his head with a pained expression. "What was that for?"


    "I should be asking you the same thing." I sighed and sidestepped, holding my sword single-handedly, leveling it at my chest. "''Rime Frost,'' second stance."


    He assumed the third stance, but I was too tired to correct him today. I swung my sword, tapping the end of the blade against Luther''s fingers, knocking his sword to the ground.


    "Ow!" he groaned, shaking his right hand and giving me a resentful look, his ears flattening against his head.


    "Defend, Luther, defend!" I rubbed my temples, wondering if the problem was actually with me. "Why don''t you move?"


    "You told me to take the ''Rime Frost'' second stance." Luther bent down to pick up his sword, his brown eyes filled with dejection.


    Realizing what Luther meant, I was momentarily at a loss for words. I had forgotten that the mutt was only seventeen, unlike me, who had started practicing sword stances, footwork, and dueling techniques since the age of nine. What seemed natural to me might be an entirely different world of thinking for him.


    I suddenly felt very sorry for Master Qana.


    "The stances help you remember the most appropriate actions in certain situations, including body balance or offensive and defensive maneuvers. It''s not just a fixed posture." I assumed the starting stance for ''Frost.'' "''Starting stance'' isn''t the first step. It''s more of a signal to your opponent that you''re ready." I swung my blade, deflecting an imaginary strike, then transitioned into the ''Frost'' second stance. "Each stance provides multiple options to respond to various situations, some leaning more towards offense..." I deflected another imaginary attack, rolled the blade to break the opponent''s guard, and thrust the tip into a vital point. "...or defense." I stepped back, withdrew my sword, and raised it horizontally above my ear to intercept a hypothetical downward slash.


    "So... uh," he scratched his head, seemingly trying hard to understand, "stances are like nodes, and the decisions you make in response to your opponent''s actions are the strategic branches downstream, guiding you to the next node."


    "Exactly." I stood straight and sheathed my sword.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "You should''ve said that earlier, now I get it." Luther replied with a smile. I was pretty sure I had explained it that way initially, but he didn''t seem very bright. "Now that I''m ready, your element of surprise is gone!" His confident tone almost made me believe it.


    "''Frost,'' starting stance." I gave the command again, willing to give it a try.


    I didn''t even need to extend my awareness to know what he was planning, just from the smug smile on his face.


    I stepped to the right, sidestepping his thrust, then pushed off forcefully, closing the distance. When my fist struck his snout, that smug, foolish expression was still plastered on his face.


    "Ow!" He fell to the ground, whimpering and holding his bleeding nose.


    "What did I tell you?" I extended a hand, helping him up. "Feel the direction of the airflow, the shift of balance, the subtle vibrations within all living things."


    "We''re in ''space,'' where''s the airflow?" he grumbled, wiping his nose with his sleeve, only to have more blood drip onto the floor.


    "That would be the recirculated air or something like that." I rolled my eyes, exasperated. If he put as much effort into other areas as he did into talking back, I was sure this mutt would quickly become an expert in some field. "Stop the bleeding yourself. I''ve taught you how."


    I took his longsword, inspected it, and sheathed it, then placed both swords back in the wall-mounted cabinet.


    Turning back, I saw him desperately trying to use his hands to stop the nosebleed that not only hadn''t stopped but was flowing down like a spilled kettle - literally - flowing down.


    "By the Rationalism!" Despite having seen much worse, this scene still caught me off guard. "Don''t move!" I extended my awareness, pulling the first aid kit from the wall, and rummaged through it for the scanner to make an initial diagnosis. "An artery? How did you manage to injure an artery?"


    I didn''t want to know the answer, so I ignored his nasal whimpering, knelt down, and let him rest on my lap. With the scanner helping me locate the injury, I found the biogel in the first aid kit.


    Thankfully, the arterial damage was superficial and unlikely to be affected by the existence field. I applied pressure to stop the bleeding, then coated the wound with the biogel. In about a minute, the gel had dried, and the job was done.


    "I think I''ll just demonstrate a few more times..." I sighed, retracting my awareness and standing up, grabbing a handful of gauze from the first aid kit for him to wipe his face, then putting the kit back in place.


    Luther got up, looking down at the floor with a dejected expression, his ears pinned back and tail hanging low. I was about to say something comforting, but the terminal on my arm vibrated twice, reminding me of the upcoming meeting.


    I sighed again involuntarily, took a few steps towards him, and placed my hand on his arm, intending to give him some pet talk. But the door of the living quarters suddenly opened, and I quickly withdrew my hand.


    "The maintenance team for the replacements..." The lead snow fox glanced at us, their expression freezing, while the other red foxes exchanged uneasy glances.


    Glancing at the half-dried reddish-brown stain on the floor, the mutt covered in blood, and the bloodstains on my chest from treating his wound, I could only awkwardly clear my throat.


    "Thanks for your help." I suppressed my panic and walked out of the living quarters with as much composure as I could muster, letting the sliding door close behind me.


    On the way to the transport pod, a strange feeling blossomed in my chest. I placed my right hand over my heart, feeling its rapid, pounding rhythm.


    Why was I so nervous? Nervous like a pup caught in the act, desperate to flee the scene.


    The frantic heartbeat offered no answers. All I could do was sift through my memories, trying to understand what was happening to me.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 2 World- 2.1

    World: In the palm of my paw, so... vast yet small.


    I stared at the ceiling of the dormitory, indulging in a moment of idleness.


    I didn''t really mind dreaming about sword practice, but I wouldn''t object to dreaming about something more pleasant, like... like... oh, Rationalism, how could I be so pathetic?


    However, another part of dream...


    I placed my palm over the left side of my chest, feeling my heart still pounding fiercely, accompanied by a strange emotion. It felt a bit like... a rhythm had skipped a beat.


    Is this what heart palpitations feel like? Should I go to the medical bay?


    A rustling sound interrupted my thoughts, drawing my attention to a change in a vibration pattern, shifting closer to a waking state.


    I sprang out of bed, landing softly on all fours without making a sound. My skills in moving silently were already honed to perfection.


    The morning routine had changed slightly. When you could control water flow with your awareness, cleanliness became a breeze.


    I was still exploring if control on such a level could induce phase changes, creating supercritical fluids would not only be cool but also highly practical. So far, I hadn''t found any method to achieve my goal, but I kept experimenting with new strategies.


    Today, I concentrated water molecules into a single point, attempting to force them into a lattice structure. If I could exert ten billion pascals of pressure with just my thoughts, I could create ice VI tetragonal crystals.


    Thinking about it, the goal seemed a bit ambitious, but I believed practice was the only path to perfection.


    Bathing and drying now took less than a minute, and I no longer worried about hanging clothes to dry, giving me more time to hang from the bar, exploring what else I could do.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I relaxed my awareness, watching the perfectly round water droplets, shimmering in the morning sunlight.


    I flicked my tail to adjust my slightly slipping position, continuing to hang from the metal bar.


    Glancing at the inconspicuous drying rack in the corner, an indescribable emotion welled up within me.


    I couldn''t remember how I first noticed it there, perhaps only a desperate and helpless soul like mine would think of the rack''s purpose. Maybe it was an antique from an era before cleaning machines became widespread, forgotten in that corner.


    Regardless, I was grateful for the assistance it had provided these days. Someday, another wolf with similar troubles might find what they need in that inconspicuous corner.


    Maybe I should leave a message, encouraging future wolves to try controlling water flow with their awareness?


    But I didn''t understand the logic behind it myself, so perhaps not.


    Is all of this connected? All the strange occurrences in my life and what I''m capable of? Which are the causes, and which are the effects?


    Perhaps one day I would find the answer, but right now, I just wanted to know if I could crystallize water at room temperature.


    So, basking in the warm morning sunlight and feeling the dawn breeze rustling through every strand of fur, I exerted all my might, applying mental pressure to the thumb-sized droplet, hoping the wildest possibility would become reality.


    I never expected it to leave me exhausted. At least I knew my limits, providing a reference for the future.


    It was no exaggeration to say I could barely lift a spoon; the pudding in my bowl felt like permafrost, difficult to scoop.


    I had no mental energy to spare for external matters, so for the first time, I genuinely didn''t notice anything happening in the cafeteria without pretending.


    Until an object entered my now narrow, blind-spot-filled existence field in a parabolic arc, and didn''t land on me as expected, I turned to see Piqsirpoq standing nearby. The entire cafeteria fell silent, the air seemed to freeze, and all eyes were on Piqsirpoq.


    I raised my gaze, following the white wolf''s raised left arm to see a red, moisture-laden berry clutched in his hand. Red juice trickled down the fur of his arm, some staining his white shirt, while others gathered at the soaked fur tips before dripping to the floor.


    He placed the burst fruit on my tray, creating a splattered pattern with the juice and seeds. Then, he slowly scanned the entire cafeteria, missing no angle. The only sound was my own swallowing.


    By catching the fruit aimed at me, Piqsirpoq sent a clear message, and I think everyone got it.


    Only after he set his tray down and left did the subdued murmurs return, but I noticed many glances still darting towards the cafeteria entrance, as if afraid Piqsirpoq might return.


    Well, that was... dramatic?


    I looked at the fruit on my tray, identifying it as a solanaceous plant''s berry from its prominent calyx and seed structure. I poked at it with a spoon, debating whether I should eat it - it seemed wasteful otherwise.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 2 World- 2.2

    "...So, the War of Succession for the Grand Duchy of Australia ultimately saw the Maned Wolf House emerge victorious." This marked the first and, so far, only time in history that a non-pedigree dog family acquired a grand duchy-level feudal jurisdiction. However, under the coordination of the then Emperor of the Ash faction, Dust, the Dingo House were allowed to retain as their family territory.


    In the subsequent courses, the biology master will explain why this is a deeply ironic event. Some believe it was a twisted jest by Dust, as many scholars argue that he wasn''t as wise as he appeared. But that''s another chapter of history.


    The newly appointed Archduke of Australia, Parma, was recognized by the Emperor and the other eight Archdukes as the holder of the Empire''s Fang after his coronation. Naturally, the Dingoes were quite vocal about this, arguing that the law prohibiting flagship involvement in Gaia''s domain conflicts was the main reason they lost the war. Now, having to hand over the most powerful starship in the solar system was simply unacceptable to them.


    However, the Dingoes'' protests were ignored. The ownership of the Empire''s flagship and the archduke title are inseparable, one of the empire''s foundational laws. That the Dingoes were allowed to retain the rest of the Empire''s Fang fleet, excluding the flagship, was already a generous concession.


    Archduke Parma, eager to prove his worth as the only non-pedigree archduke, made many rash decisions. Among the most criticized was his handling of the feline refugee crisis, which ultimately resulted in the '' Lunar orbit Massacre.'' We will delve into this in detail in later chapters."


    Master Klin descended from the podium and paced near the front row.


    "History has no beginning or end. Everything that has happened and will happen is a ripple from the Big Bang." He raised his hand and pointed to the projection screen. "If the Golden House hadn''t conspired for a century to annex the entirety of America, the Maned Wolf House wouldn''t have migrated to Australia, and there wouldn''t have been a War of Succession."


    The screen now displayed the migration route of the Maned Wolf House and the changes in control areas during the War of Succession.


    "Without the Maned Wolves'' victory over the Dingoes, the feline exodus wouldn''t have occurred, nor would the ensuing tragedy. What motivated the Golden House to unify America, and how did they succeed?" He glanced towards the back of the lecture hall, likely checking the time. "We''ll continue this next class. Don''t forget this week''s assignment: ''Succession Rights and Feudal Legitimacy.''"


    After most of the students had left the hall, I approached Master Klin, hoping to get answers to some troubling questions.


    "Why..." I greeted the master, who gave me an encouraging smile. "Why, as fellow oppressed beings, couldn''t the Maned Wolves..." I struggled to find the right words to express my thoughts. "...empathize with the fleeing felines?"


    "That assumption might be a bit too hasty, Richter," the master said as he packed his things. "Why do you think the Maned Wolves didn''t empathize with the felines?"


    "But..." I had never considered this possibility. "...if that''s the case, wouldn''t it mean that the Maned Wolves, despite knowing the pain of oppression, did the same thing as their oppressors?" The thought sent chills down my spine.


    "That''s also a possibility." The master met my gaze, his ears slightly tilting towards me. "You seem to be suggesting that it''s illogical for the Maned Wolves to become what they should have opposed?"


    I nodded, maintaining eye contact, firm in my stance.


    "So, you believe the Maned Wolves should place their own interests and those of the felines on equal footing?" The master''s pupils narrowed slightly, and his ear movements became more pronounced.


    "It sounds..." I swallowed but didn''t back down, forcing myself to stay calm. "...logical."


    Master Klin relaxed his expression, straightened his ears, and tilted his head slightly, chuckling and patting my arm.


    "Richter, you might be smart, but your knowledge is evidently not yet sufficient to wield logic as a tool in debates." He lifted his black briefcase and adjusted his tie with his other hand. "I''m not saying your idea is contradictory, not at all." He smiled and tilted his head, signaling with his eyes for me to notice my drooping ears. "Defending your position with just..." he tilted his head the other way. "...emotion, isn''t enough."Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    What did that mean? I pondered the master''s khaki suit, flicking my ears back up.


    "I believe we will have more opportunities to discuss this in-depth in the future. If you take Eulap''s classes seriously, you''ll understand what you''re missing." He tilted his head again, glancing at the electronic clock at the back of the hall. "You''re almost late for that class."


    At the master''s hint, I thanked him, grabbed my backpack, and left the hall.


    As I climbed the stairs to another floor, I pondered what I was lacking. So, believing that everyone should understand each other and not just hurt each other is purely emotional?


    Entering the philosophy floor, I found the lecture hall and, as usual, chose a seat away from others.


    I''ve never really understood where philosophy fits in with logic or why it''s called the mother of science. To me, it seems like an overestimation. My mind was still in a whirl from the last class''s "Trolley Problem," struggling to see the practical use of thought experiments beyond creating self-inflicted confusion.


    But since Master Klin said so, I figured he knew something I didn''t. So, I let my tail drop, tried to keep an open mind, and prepared to tackle the self-inflicted challenges left by philosophers thousands of years ago.


    "...The world is filled with various injustices, pain, and sorrow." Philosophy Master Eulap enjoyed moving through the seating area, encouraging interaction. "As gray wolves under the Senate''s protection, you might not fully grasp the daily struggles of enslavement, abuse, and genocide faced by others." The master turned gracefully, his shoes tapping on the floor. "However, pain is pain, though its degree might differ. Even something as trivial as the canteen''s food synthesizer failing to produce the dish you want is a form of suffering."


    Some students laughed. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes, wondering if they truly understood what it meant to have the synthesizer constantly fail to make the food you wanted.


    "So one day, the world''s most capable individuals gathered to solve the problem of ''pain'' once and for all. After much research, debate, and experimentation, they found the solution." The master returned to the front of the podium, arms outstretched. "The Happiness Machine!"


    The wolf stepped back, returning to the podium, slightly lifting his head and solemnly declaring. Some students chuckled, waking up a few who had dozed off.


    "A machine that can give you any joyful experience you can think of, perfect and without flaw! The smallest moment, the greatest joy, the wildest fantasy, there is no scenario the Happiness Machine can''t create!" The master''s tone now resembled that of a logic extremist delivering a speech, and I thought he would excel in such a role. "Don''t misunderstand; the Happiness Machine doesn''t just provide joyful experiences. It can fulfill any experience you desire." The master lowered his hands, tilting his head slightly forward. "Challenges, pain, suffering? From zero to one hundred, in any detail, you name it!"


    "The only question remaining is," the master resumed his upright stance, returned to the podium, and surveyed the hall, letting his words sink in. "Would you enter the Happiness Machine and live there forever?"


    The previously sleepy students were now wide awake, with some wolves showing keen interest.


    I had no idea this topic would captivate them.


    I refocused, feeling a stir deep within me.


    Could I experience anything I wanted? That means... becoming... anyone?


    "I wouldn''t enter the Happiness Machine," a voice said. I continued staring at my desk, fidgeting with my hands. "Fake experiences are meaningless."


    "How do you know what''s a fake experience?" the philosophy master said slowly. "How can you be sure you''re not just a brain in a vat, immersed in a solution with electrodes attached?"


    Hmm... that''s a good question. I often feel like a brain soaking in a vat.


    "Uh... but I..." The voice hesitated, struggling to articulate something so obvious.


    Yes, how do we explain that I am me, the sky is blue, the sea is green, and I''m here daydreaming? The simpler, the more fundamental something is, the harder it seems to explain clearly.


    Or rather, is an explanation even necessary? Does this prove that the essence itself has some redundant flaw? Isn''t pure existence a self-evident truth?


    "I''m sitting here, speaking," the wolf finally tried to describe their current state.


    "You ''feel'' yourself sitting, speaking, and seeing things--all electrical signals in the brain." Master Eulap pointed to his head. "External electrical stimulation can perfectly simulate your current sensations. This technology existed centuries ago, used to help the blind regain sight or simulate other senses." The master waved his hand, and the screen showed an image of a pair of goggles with wires, chips, and twelve pairs of neural network diagrams. "Applying it to those with normal physiological functions has some limitations, but overall, what was once a thought experiment has long been reality."


    "But even if I can''t distinguish between real and virtual, deciding to enter the Happiness Machine knowing all future experiences are fake makes everything meaningless, so there''s no motivation to enter."


    Fake and... real? I tapped my fingernail slowly on the desk.


    "So, being able to ensure the reality or falsehood is the most crucial premise?"


    The master continued the dialogue, possibly trying to prompt everyone to think about their motivations and whether they align with the ultimate goal.


    Oh, so that''s where the logical aspect of philosophy lies. The key isn''t necessarily about solving the problem but in the process of proposing ideas, self-examining, and debating.


    But at the moment, I wasn''t in the mood to marvel at the subtlety of the mother of sciences or to feel excited about finally understanding this point.


    I still couldn''t stop imagining what I would see after entering the happiness machine. Maybe it would just be endless emptiness.


    How enviable it is to be so decisive, to be able to reject entering the happiness machine simply because they believe those happy experiences are fake.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 2 World- 2.3

    At dusk, my energy had mostly recovered, but since endurance has never been my strong suit, I fell behind during our daily cross-country run, ending up as the last one in the group.


    The setting sun cast a golden glow on the snow, its dazzling reflection on the mountain walls made me squint my eyes.


    I''ve never been fond of winter. It might sound odd for a grey wolf with three layers of fur to say this, but I really hate the cold. Not feeling cold and feeling comfortable are two different things.


    I lowered my body, quickly running across the rocky slope, adjusting the angle of my tail to maintain balance, and stepping forward before my foothold could crumble.


    The terrain near Mount Ulamun is rugged and fragmented, but in summer, this mountainous region will show another side. The snowy, barren cliffs have a very aloof beauty, but I can also appreciate the lush, vibrant scenery.


    A few laughs and vulgar jeers caught my attention, directing my gaze to the female Snow pack on the opposite mountain path. They were making clear derisive gestures towards us, and the male wolves at the front of our group took it as some form of encouragement, responding with even louder, crude flattery.


    I rolled my eyes inwardly, reminding myself not to stoop to such childish behavior.


    Back at the training ground, I found everyone already in position. Today, Master Polota was in charge of the guidance. His agile movements and swordsmanship were completely different from the powerful, oppressive style of Qana.


    I searched for Piqsirpoq''s presence, considering keeping my distance from him, but quickly noticed he wasn''t in the training ground. As I pondered the possible reasons, I sensed Qana''s presence approaching from behind, making me turn to face him immediately.


    "The sword masters have unanimously agreed that your training should advance further," the burly sword master said in a calm tone, without any comment on my awareness of his approach. "Follow me."


    Wasting no time, the master ascended one of the several steps carved into the mountain wall. My navigation skills aren''t great, so to avoid getting lost, I hurriedly followed Qana''s large strides.


    "Master, I don''t want to sound ungrateful..." I began, but Qana turned to raise an eyebrow at me, prompting me to clear my throat and get to the point. "I think the masters know that I won''t stay in the wolf pack in the future..." Qana maintained his raised eyebrow expression, preventing me from continuing, making me lower my gaze to my boots.


    "Precisely because of that," Qana said as he turned back, still in his calm tone. "We don''t have much time." He placed a hand on his sword hilt, rubbing the rounded pommel with his thumb. "Don''t you find it strange why I''m training you instead of Polota, who has a style more similar to yours?"


    At first, I didn''t realize Qana meant he would personally guide me, but I didn''t understand why the arrangement was made. The master''s feigned indifferent tone made me think further inquiry might not be wise, so I maintained a grateful silence, submissively accepting the master''s decision.


    "Is Piqsirpoq also receiving private instruction from a master?" I asked in a respectful tone, softly.


    "You really have no interest in what''s happening in the Senate, do you?" Qana snorted lightly and asked. I didn''t know how to respond, as the description was quite accurate. "Young wolves of sufficient potential will undergo initial group training, eventually selecting a five-member team plus reserves to represent the faction in the Selection." He paused at a fork in the path, then continued down one. "The Selection is the best chance to showcase oneself and greatly affects the possibility of becoming a prince-elector candidate--and Piqsirpoq is a hot favorite for this year''s Snow."


    Before I could respond, Qana led me to a platform carved out from the mountain. The entrance was well-hidden, impossible to find unless one was familiar with the terrain.


    "Qana Snow," the master said to a seemingly indistinguishable rock wall at the end of the platform, and the black shale silently parted to both sides.


    Qana didn''t waste time explaining anything to me, simply walking inside. I had to follow quickly, unsure of when the wall would close again.


    "Welcome, Sword Master." As we stepped through the opening, a neutral electronic voice sounded, and when the entrance silently closed behind us, soft light filled the interior, illuminating our surroundings.


    Alright, that was pretty cool.


    While Qana was operating a terminal on the black wall, I surveyed the room--it didn''t take long because there was nothing in the small space. The floor, ceiling, and walls were made of the same smooth black material, and I couldn''t determine the source of the light.


    "Choose a weapon that suits you," Qana said, walking to my side and pointing to a wall that slid open to reveal various swords. "I''ll have one custom-made for you later."


    It took me a moment to understand Qana''s intention.


    Suppressing my surprise and excitement, setting aside my countless questions, I couldn''t care less about whether I deserved such a gift. I could only think of the sword that would belong to me--my sword.


    Is this what it means to be overwhelmed with joy?


    As I picked up and tested different swords, feeling their balance, I noticed something peculiar--the vibration. Just like the military saber in the armory, each sword here resonated subtly under my touch.


    I momentarily forgot about the idea of having my own sword and looked at Qana with a questioning expression, tilting my head and folding one ear for answers, but he remained unmoved.


    Unable to read anything from his poker face, I changed tactics and expanded my consciousness, trying to interpret his thoughts from the waves he emitted.


    "Stop." As soon as my consciousness touched Qana, he spoke.


    The authoritative command in his voice made me immediately withdraw my consciousness, lowering my gaze and tail. I didn''t know if he had detected what I was doing or how he knew.


    "Although the number of psychics is very small, their existence and capabilities are not unfamiliar within the Canine Empire or even other parts of the solar system. But except for significant figures, the general public either hasn''t heard of psychic-related information or treats it as unreliable folklore. This is true even for wolves, who have relatively tight-knit communities." With Qana''s explanation, I began to understand something--there are forces deliberately concealing the existence of people like me, and there are others like me out there.


    Others who can do those seemingly impossible things--my kind. I looked up at Qana.


    "You are still very weak now, and the waves you emit are not easily noticeable, unless you send out probing waves that touch other psychics." Qana sighed and slightly slumped his shoulders. "I initially thought I could wait until you reached the age of eligibility for the Selection before worrying about this, but clearly, I misjudged many things."A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    He drew his sword, the broad sword with a slanted guard matching its owner, devoid of any decoration or unnecessary structure, yet a mere glance at the unadorned blade revealed its brilliance.


    Although he always used a blunt practice sword when sparring with me, Qana occasionally demonstrated moves with his own sword, so this wasn''t my first time seeing it up close. However, it was the first time I noticed the waves radiating from it.


    "You need to quickly learn the technique of shielding your own waves. Before you can quietly use your abilities, do not expand your consciousness outside this room." Qana circled the room with his sword, and I seemed to see a faint white glow. Was it an optical illusion or just an afterimage? "Simply expanding your consciousness to sense waves is fine; it won''t leave detectable ripples in the conscious domain. But actively expanding your field or further manipulation is a completely different matter. I will teach you how to differentiate between these two later, but for now, we must prioritize."


    After Qana finished speaking, I felt a certain...stagnation, as if encased in amber. I slightly moved my limbs and tail, like trying to swim with all my fur soaked.


    "All minds, outside their ''circle of existence''--the body--have ''circles of consciousness'' of varying range, structure, and density, depending on the strength of their will and other factors. Most circles of consciousness are too weak to cause any physical waves or effects. Those strong enough are the psychics." Qana tapped his chest twice with his thumb and then pointed at me. "They can do all sorts of miraculous things within the domain controlled by their consciousness."


    I felt that stagnation grow stronger, making it hard to even breathe, as if submerged in deep water, with an invisible force pressing on my chest.


    "But in most cases, different individuals'' circles of consciousness repel each other, so when strong circles of consciousness come into contact, it will be like this." Qana pointed to my hand. "Reining in your constant circle of consciousness and hiding it within your circle of existence is the basic way to avoid detection. Once you can skillfully retract and release it, we will discuss the advanced techniques."


    I tried to follow Qana''s instructions, retracting my consciousness. Like the reverse of expanding my consciousness, I... retracted it inward. I realized this might be easy for me because--hiding, not attracting attention--these were things I had practiced for over a decade.


    When my consciousness was fully retracted, that heavy stagnation disappeared. I raised my hands, flexing my fingers to confirm my movements were back to normal.


    "Very good, just as I expected, this part should be quite easy for you," the master said with a slight nod of approval, a common sign of praise from him. "If your abilities are discovered, it will pose a significant danger to you, so you must master the art of concealing your fluctuations." Qana''s gaze met mine, his tone becoming more intense. "I trust I don''t need to remind you never to reveal the content of our training sessions here, aside from the swordsmanship."


    Once the constraints of action were lifted, I took down the half-sword I had been eyeing earlier, holding it in my hand, feeling the perfect balance and the resonant hum.


    "I was a bit worried you might choose a rapier," Qana said with a shrug, walking back to the terminal and pressing a few buttons to retract the blade rack, which was once again covered by the black wall. "But..." he tilted his head slightly and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "You didn''t choose the half-sword to make a statement, did you?"


    "I just think it suits me," I said, turning the sword in my hand and listening to the sound of the blade slicing through the air. "What would a half-sword signify?"


    "Although the name is a bit odd, simply put, a half-sword is also known as a hybrid sword," Qana explained, removing his dark brown cloak and hanging it on a black cylindrical object that had appeared at some point. "It refers to swords that cannot easily be classified as either single-handed or two-handed."


    The master approached me, his cloakless figure revealing his rugged muscles beneath his white shirt, and his nearly two-meter height gave me a powerful sense of intimidation that I hadn''t noticed outdoors.


    "Is it because I''m a mutt?" I flinched slightly at the term. "My status has turned my abilities into..." I mulled over the irony. "...a danger?" I realized how most Snow, even the entire Senate, would view me--a powerful anomaly--as an unstable, uncontrollable threat.


    "That is only one small part of it. Psychics are too precious to be dismissed, even the most conservative and outdated individuals cannot deny this. There are many dangers in this world that you are not yet aware of." Qana''s deep blue eyes flashed with a cold glint, his expression darkening. "Not just that--there are many who will seek to suppress you simply because of your innate traits or status. Often, the things that come with your abilities can be deadly--or worse."


    As soon as the master finished speaking, he executed a smooth slash that seemed mismatched with the enormous sword he wielded. I quickly raised my sword to block the attack, ear keen for any further moves, and shifted my stance into the "Frost", preparing for the next offensive.


    "Good, keep it up," he said as I dodged his chop and immediately closed in to strike at his abdomen. The master withdrew his sword and changed to a reverse grip, lifting the sword to his ear in the "Icicle" stance, creating an arc that lifted my blade and caught it with the guard, pulling it away.


    "In a crisis, an untrained psychics will instinctively extend their awareness to protect themselves, much like a startled insect. You must transcend this level; psychic are not just survival instincts."


    Unable to retract my sword, Qana used his left hand to forcefully push the sword''s end, relying on his strength and height advantage to drive the attack from above.


    I tried to block the attack with the guard, but Qana''s immense strength forced me to retreat a few steps to maintain my balance. He relentlessly pressured me, leaving no room for respite.


    Straining all my muscles to resist, I managed to halt Qana''s sword for a moment. I immediately withdrew my resistance to disrupt my balance, sidestepping and causing the master to stumble slightly forward. Seizing the opportunity, I raised my leg and aimed a kick at Qana''s nose.


    I hoped to at least disrupt his rhythm, but Qana, with a casual smile of ease, caught my left foot with his massive left hand.


    I didn''t stop; using the leverage from his grip, I bent my left leg and spun my whole body off the ground, using all my strength to kick at Qana''s face with my right foot.


    As I exhaled sharply, I found myself lying on my back, my mind racing through what had just happened. Qana''s reaction was faster than I was used to; during our usual practice, he hadn''t used his full strength--he had immediately grabbed my foot and slammed me to the ground as soon as he detected my intent.


    But my sword was still in hand. I curled my body, aiming for Qana''s ankle with a slash. Qana, moving so quickly that I barely saw an blur, performed the "Icicle", knocking my sword from my grip. I still refused to give up, tensing my entire body from the ground and leaping up, but a rough, hard object met the tip of my nose, halting all my actions.


    "Don''t freeze up," Qana said, his breathing still steady and calm. "Immediately lean back to somewhat mitigate the impact. The pain from a direct strike to the nose is unbearable for any canine creature. In a death match with similar skill levels, a precise hit to the nose will determine the outcome."


    I pressed my ears flat against my head and looked up at the master.


    "In the domain of a psychic''s consciousness, there are many disadvantages when fighting against him." Qana withdrew his foot and extended his hand to help me up. "But you performed well, and most importantly, you didn''t instinctively expand your awareness out of fear."


    I picked up the fallen sword and stood back in front of Qana, lowering my gaze to listen quietly.


    "Or rather, did you not actually feel the real danger?" The master rarely used a joking tone, but it was not laced with much sarcasm. Still, I kept my eyes on the ground, not changing my posture.


    "I think I did..." I recalled the sensation from earlier. "I thought you might really break my nose."


    "Then you should have reacted, not frozen." Qana scolded, though my ears were already pressed flat and could not droop further. "Maintain the retracted consciousness state and stay vigilant." I followed the master''s command, lifting my gaze and focusing on him.


    Qana held the sword in his right hand, fully extended parallel to the ground. A strong resonance emanated from the sword, followed by a wave of vitality that pierced through me.


    "This is a sword technique specially designed for psychics by the Snow faction," he said, his voice resonating in sync with the sword''s hum, almost like a chant. "You will continue practicing from the basic stance until you can perfectly conceal your vibration before I teach you the ability-related aspects." Qana made no other moves, but I already felt the immense pressure from him bearing down on me. It was as if the air became dense and heavy, with waves of impact shaking the room.


    I tried to control the reaction of my hair, but my adrenaline surged, my heart raced, and I could even hear my arteries pounding next to my eardrum--this was the truest sense of facing fear. I ignored the tingling sensation crawling under my skin, knowing it was my instinct urging me to extend my protective field. But I also knew I could surpass this level.


    "Snow," Qana''s voice floated through the space, and my vision was filled with countless white afterimages.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 2 World- 2.4

    This whole day, I truly understood for the first time what it meant to be mentally exhausted--there was no issue with physical activity, but I lacked the desire to drive my body. Obviously, retracting my consciousness circle was also something that drained my spirit. When the training ended, Qana was a bit surprised that I managed to maintain this state for so long. The small acknowledgment from the swordsmanship master made me feel somewhat elated.


    Because of this, Qana allowed me to use my "psychic" to clean and dry myself.


    "''Psychic''." I said softly, savoring the vibration of the word in my mouth. Yesterday, I still knew nothing about my almost supernatural abilities. Today, I knew what to call this power. It felt... interesting. Having a name to call it made it seem less mysterious, abstract, and distant, and more like something real and tangible, easier to understand and control. It felt like a part of me.


    Without extending my consciousness, I thought about the power contained in a name--the process of naming it and the final understood appellation--while using the consciousness circle around my body to expel the water clinging to my fur.


    I tried to speak decisively, to utter my own name, but the only sound was the uncontrollable trembling of my jaw and a broken low growl from my throat.


    I punched the white tiles of the shower wall, letting the pain from my knuckles pull me out of my thoughts.


    Exhaustion can effectively shorten the time it takes to fall asleep but does nothing to help with a night full of dreams.


    "... What about a name?" an old, tired voice asked.


    "How could he have one? He''s just a mutt!" a voice replied indignantly.


    "Then according to the rules..." the old voice sighed helplessly.


    The sound of suppressed sobbing, calling out into the endless void hoping for any response, but only receiving endless confusion, without any definite answer...


    I suddenly opened my eyes, sat up in bed, and realized that these were not my own feelings, even though the overwhelming loneliness resonated with a familiar deep feeling in my chest.


    It was a vibration, a... searching vibration. Qana had taught me how to differentiate between types of vibrations, and vaguely, I could feel that almost inaudible... call. The call was weak but definite, calling to any willing to listen.


    I scanned the room, perked my ears, and evaluated various physiological indicators, concluding that everyone else was still sleeping soundly. I got out of bed quietly and left the room on tiptoe.


    In the pitch-dark corridor, the faint ripple continued to pull me. I didn''t dare to disobey Qana''s orders, so I didn''t extend my consciousness. I continued to search for the source of the pulse, judging the direction from the changes in its strength.


    The vibration itself was very weak, so the changes in strength were not obvious. I often had to walk quite a distance before realizing I was going in the wrong direction. But gradually, I discovered that the center of the pulse seemed to be in a place very familiar to me.


    After passing through the shower room, I confirmed that whoever was sending out the searching vibration was on the balcony.


    The bright light reflecting off the snow piles took me a moment to adjust to, so I didn''t notice him immediately.


    "What are you doing here?" I turned sharply towards the source of the voice, just in time to see Piqsirpoq stand up, wipe his face a few times, and look at me with cold eyes.


    I didn''t know what to say, but the moment I opened my mouth, I noticed he was completely naked, with wet fur clinging to his skin, making his muscular lines stand out in the bright moonlight.


    Completely exposed.


    I felt the hot blood rush to my ears and immediately turned away, convinced that if I hesitated even a second, my ears would actually catch fire.


    Say something, say anything! I cleared my throat, but even the sound of that cough was awkward, and I still didn''t know what to say.


    "I asked you, what are you doing?" Piqsirpoq grabbed my collar and brought his snout close to my face, his hot breath hitting my face.


    Oh, Rationalism witness, he was so close, too close, and how was he so wet! He''s your brother, he''s your brother, your blood relative, you share the same father but different mothers... No, that doesn''t help at all! Think about how he''s ignored you all these years, never considered you important... But he stood up for me--no, now is not the time to think about that!


    In despair, I wanted to scream. Piqsirpoq''s scent at this close distance clearly evoked some distant warm memories. No, no, don''t think about that!


    I suppressed all the rising emotions, feeling a tingling at the ends of my limbs. I abruptly turned my head away, hoping that not directly inhaling his scent might help a little. My eyes darted around, pleading to focus on anything else.


    When I saw the clothes drying rack, I immediately understood why Piqsirpoq was now standing naked on the balcony. Also, those strange rumors about him waking up in the middle of the night to go to some mysterious place. Or why he always ate the same meals in the cafeteria for years.


    How could I have been so blind? Shouldn''t I be the one who understands the most?


    With our chests pressed against each other, our heartbeats resonated within our chests.


    "Drying rack," I murmured, feeling a bit of dryness in my throat.


    "What?" he still said angrily, his brows furrowed tightly.


    "Did you make the drying rack?" I swallowed and tried to speak in a calm tone, flattening my ears and adopting a submissive posture.


    "The ''drying rack''?" He followed my gaze, possibly understanding what I was talking about. Qana had explained many things to me today. "Yes, I put it together from scraps in the storeroom." He turned his gaze back to me, pressing down his right ear with a puzzled expression.


    A strong sense of guilt welled up, and I could feel a sting in my nose.


    "You only have one set of clothes left?" I asked, looking directly into Piqsirpoq''s eyes.


    "No, I just wanted to take a thorough moonbath, I heard it''s good for your health," he said with obvious sarcasm.


    "At first, occasionally, only the color would change, or the buttons and pockets would disappear." I kept my tone calm, not wanting to sink into negative memories. "But sometimes the style of clothes put in would be completely different when taken out, and a few times my clothes were directly disassembled, not even leaving a fiber." Piqsirpoq''s heartbeat slowly calmed down, and he began to listen seriously. "But I didn''t know how to explain this to anyone, so I had to start hand-washing my clothes and then waiting for them to dry every morning."


    Piqsirpoq didn''t speak for a moment, staring straight into my eyes as if searching for any sign that I was mocking him.


    "I always believed someone was playing a prank on me, constantly trying to catch the culprit." He finally spoke, his body slightly relaxing. "I only gave up when I had just one set of clothes left, forcing me to get up in the middle of the night to wash them." He lightly snorted through his nose. "I was seen a few times, which is probably the origin of those strange rumors."


    "So you can''t use meditation to let your body and soul rest separately?" I asked, and Piqsirpoq glared at me, clearly not appreciating my attempt to break the awkward atmosphere.


    "The cafeteria''s food synthesizer." His pupils slightly contracted, seeming to understand something. "You never managed to order what you wanted to eat, right?"


    "That''s a bit of an understatement," I said realistically. "But after all, it''s just energy, shoving it in your mouth isn''t that difficult."


    Piqsirpoq let go of my collar, stepped back, and looked me up and down. His icy blue eyes revealed a certain... sadness?


    "Jupiter''s flight." He sighed softly. "This would create a flavorless porridge, but at least it wouldn''t be some horrifying abomination." He shivered, and I didn''t want to know what the worst thing Piqsirpoq had ever eaten was.


    "Qana said..." I wasn''t sure about the exact scope of the sword master''s prohibition, but this was Piqsirpoq, my... suffering half-blood brother. "... Machines with decomposition and recombination functions always malfunction near powerful psychics. The stronger the psychic, the more obvious it is."


    "A psychic?" Piqsirpoq tilted his head, it seemed his training hadn''t covered this.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Although Qana hadn''t said it directly, I could guess that teaching me about such things was likely forbidden. I glanced at the drying rack again and made a decision.


    I didn''t extend my consciousness--I didn''t dare--instead, I placed my hand on Piqsirpoq''s shoulder, feeling the ripple of his consciousness domain.


    Piqsirpoq looked at my hand in confusion, raising one eyebrow.


    His consciousness domain was also very strong, although the basic state occupied a smaller space, almost clinging to the skin, the clear pulses still declared the power of its owner--and our consciousness waves were even quite similar. I adjusted my ripple frequency until our consciousnesses resonated.


    I reached out to him, extending a part of my consciousness to make contact with his.


    Piqsirpoq shuddered violently, his eyes widening, his dilated pupils filled with astonishment, his blue eyes fixed on me, his jaw slightly open, but he didn''t pull back.


    Our consciousnesses resonated at the same frequency. I could feel my own awareness like a stream of energy flowing over his skin. Now, our circles of consciousness were one.


    I gently exerted my will, separating the liquid from the soaked fur, starting from the tail, until all the water collected along our fur, converging at my hand touching his shoulder. From there, it flowed to the fingertips of my other hand, forming a water ball. Piqsirpoq maintained his look of surprise, watching me throw the water ball off the balcony, disappearing from sight.


    For a moment, aside from the sound of liquid hitting the snow and the occasional gust of wind, there was no other sound. The bright moonlight even caught the finest hairs at the ends of our fur, and the gentle, lazy frequency of the cold wind made our shadows sway lightly.


    "How long have you been able to do that?" Piqsirpoq finally seemed to come to his senses, accepting what had just happened.


    "Basically, since I can remember," I replied. "But usually, I only control the water on myself. This is the first time I''ve tried to dry someone else."


    "This world is crazy." Piqsirpoq snorted through his nose, walked to the edge of the balcony, and flicked his tail to the left. "So, what, am I also a... ''psychic''?" he asked, waving his right hand dismissively.


    "Probably." I answered cautiously. "Only strong enough psychic can emit a searching vibration." Qana hadn''t explained it clearly, but had mentioned that not every psychic could control waves; the weakest could only passively sense them.


    "So, you not only kicked my ass in swordsmanship despite being three years younger than me with three years less practice and experience," he leaned on the balcony with his elbows, pressing his hands to his temples, "but you also have this... psychic ability," he hesitated over the word. "You''ve been able to do it since you can remember..." Piqsirpoq raised his right hand, waving his wrist aimlessly in the air. "Whatever ''it'' is."


    I listened quietly, guessing where this might be headed. I started to understand why Qana said he hoped we could understand each other.


    "They said I was very talented and had high expectations." Piqsirpoq laughed bitterly twice. "Bullshit." He spat the curse, looking up at the moon.


    The wind picked up slightly, making Piqsirpoq''s ears and tail tip sway gently, and a tear fell from his blue eyes.


    "Who lets a child take care of another child?" Piqsirpoq''s tone was so familiar, it was like listening to my own monologue. "Why... do I have to try so hard to gain recognition, as if I have no value if I''m not exceptional enough to be used by others?" The sparkling tear fell from the tip of his fur, glistening in the moonlight. "This world is broken."


    Piqsirpoq clenched his fists and hit the edge of the balcony, knocking some snow off.


    "The royal family basically can''t directly interfere with the nine Grand Duchy, and a bigger question is, why is it a feudal system?" He showed his fangs and asked angrily. "Interbreeding between faction is prohibited to protect the ''purity of the strain.''" Piqsirpoq growled through gritted teeth. "Yeah, the purity of the strain, as a means to control the nine Grand Duchy?" He laughed bitterly. "The Senate is the largest pimping business in the Empire!"


    Like my brother, I was full of questions about these things. But I knew I couldn''t stay in the pack, so I never cared, only treating the knowledge as tools and power, which were my chips to leave far away. How the Canine Empire turned out had nothing to do with me.


    But I never thought, as someone who wanted to be accepted, to recognize and belong to the pack, clearly understanding these bizarre things yet having to endure them, what kind of pain it would be.


    That''s probably why it all suddenly exploded. How long had Piqsirpoq been running out at night, curling up in a corner, and sobbing quietly? Why hadn''t anyone noticed? Why had I never noticed?


    I only knew that I had no parents, but I never realized that Piqsirpoq had also lost his father. And I didn''t even know when he lost his mother. I only thought of myself.


    "Screw the Selection, Snow can eat my shit!" He started sobbing, his voice heavy with nasal sound. "Everything is meaningless, it''s all a game, a show to provide the biggest bread and most extravagant circus to those poor souls, half-awake in a drunken stupor, tormented by a hangover!" Piqsirpoq wiped his eyes and laughed. "The Senate, ha, really meaningful."


    I wasn''t sure I fully understood what Piqsirpoq was saying. I listened carefully to the history master''s lectures, so I knew about the feudal system of the Canine Empire, and what bread and circuses were. But my indifference to the whole environment made me like an outsider--as I really was an outsider--I had no interest in understanding more, it would never be my world, and I was never treated as one of them.


    But Piqsirpoq''s appearance still pained me. I couldn''t explain this feeling, we were really not familiar. I could only guess that I was actually hurting for myself.


    "Why does the inheritance law exclude females, eugenics prohibit any unnatural conception, and what''s with the eyebrows... in the name of Rationalism, none of this makes any sense!" He clawed at his head with both hands, pulling his hair.


    "Uh, eyebrows?" I wasn''t sure why eyebrows were grouped with all these things.


    "Yes, eyebrows in the asshole of Rationalism!" Piqsirpoq turned his head, pointing at his eyebrows. "Didn''t you notice, the body language of wolves never uses eyebrows, not a single one? All eyebrow-related emotional expressions rely solely on the eyebrows, but dogs aren''t like that!"


    "I''ve never seen any dogs..." I could only murmur in response, as Piqsirpoq stood too close again, forcing me to focus on his eyebrows.


    "Never mind, none of it matters." Piqsirpoq said, his body slumping. "I hate this senseless world. It''s like some twisted monster hiding behind the scenes, randomly adding absurd rules, just to see how we powerless mortals react."


    "Maybe it really is like that," I whispered. If we could really blame all the bad things on some unseen force, how easy it would be.


    "What?" Piqsirpoq clearly didn''t catch my sense of humor.


    "If someone really is controlling this world, what would you do?" I hypothesized, thinking about my preferred solution.


    "I''d make them all eat shit and reshape the world with my will." Piqsirpoq said with a determined expression, as if he had long prepared this answer.


    I couldn''t help but laugh at his response. Soon, Piqsirpoq laughed too. We laughed like idiots, our voices overlapping.


    I wiped the tears from my eyes, looked at the drying rack, and made another decision.


    "The key to psychic is realizing the existence of ''self.''" At least, that''s what Qana said; I wasn''t sure what it meant. "That''s why we''re taught to use swords, because being treated as part of the body, the rules of psychics powers apply to weapons. This doesn''t work for shooting types of firearms or bows, even javelins; thrown objects or energy almost never get recognized as part of the body, even the most determined strong psychics can''t do it."


    I held Piqsirpoq''s still dripping shirt in one hand and handed him his pants with the other. He silently took them without saying much.


    "So the simplest way to operate psychic without expanding the circle of consciousness," I didn''t quite understand why this wasn''t considered expanding the circle of consciousness, but apparently, the rules of psychic were different from what we thought was common sense and definitions, "is to extend the definition of ''self,'' or reverse it, include the target within the range of ''self.''"


    I tried to extend my consciousness to the shirt, like I did to Piqsirpoq earlier. But my circle of consciousness kept rejecting it, even avoiding the fabric''s surface.


    "Well, I guess knowing it''s ''your'' shirt creates some difficulty," I sighed, stopping my attempts.


    I looked in Piqsirpoq''s direction, just in time to see him extract liquid from the fabric, gathering it into a transparent water ball in front of his muzzle. Piqsirpoq''s expression was a bit surprised, as if not quite sure he had done it himself.


    "Wow, it took me a long time to control things outside my body," I genuinely admired, looking at the fist-sized water ball.


    Piqsirpoq met my gaze and smiled. It stirred a certain emotion in my chest. I couldn''t remember a time when he was that kind to me.


    Then, the water ball suddenly burst, wetting the fur on our faces. Piqsirpoq and I looked at each other and laughed.


    "Does the world make a little more sense now?" I asked Piqsirpoq, directing the water from my fur to the ground.


    "A little bit," he replied, mimicking my actions to dry his fur. He looked at the splashes on the floor, still somewhat disbelieving. It would probably take some time to process; it was indeed a bit supernatural, and our brains weren''t designed to understand this kind of thing.


    "Actually, I..." What I was about to say was interrupted when Piqsirpoq suddenly hugged me tightly. "I..." It was as if my thoughts were suddenly cut off; I couldn''t remember what I was about to say, and his warmth was transmitted to me. So warm.


    "Thank you," he said softly, his tone a bit hesitant. "And... I''m sorry."


    For some reason, this made my vision immediately blur. I didn''t know that being hugged felt so... safe. Amidst all the cold, hostile gazes surrounding us, I finally had a safe haven of my own. I felt that I was the one who needed to apologize, but I was too choked up to speak, so I could only hold him tightly in response.


    Under my fingertips, the texture of his deep, fine fur was so smooth and warm. The steady heartbeat and the warm scent buried deep in my memory made me... Oh, damn it, damn it!


    I struggled to push him away; this feeling was too much of a buzzkill. But apparently, many things in this world are irrational and differ from what our simple brains assume.


    I had a reaction, and because of our position, he must have felt it too. Why? I clearly didn''t have... didn''t I? I quickly pushed this question aside, knowing that thinking about it now would do no good.


    Piqsirpoq was initially a bit puzzled, but during my hesitant struggle to remain calm or cover it up, he realized what was happening.


    He glanced down, then looked back up to meet my eyes. He repeated this process, finally showing a look of sudden realization, but his confusion did not diminish. In fact, I would say it increased.


    The bewilderment in those blue eyes made me ashamed, and I immediately averted my gaze. My ears, burning hot as if on fire, stood up uncontrollably, and the tail coiled between my legs was of no help, as it only emphasized the bulge in my groin.


    If I weren''t so stiff from embarrassment, I would probably try to cover my face and imagine myself fading from this world, erasing any trace of my existence.


    Piqsirpoq scratched his right ear, made a sound somewhere between a cough and a hum, then also looked away. He took the shirt from my hand, nodded quickly to show his gratitude, then grabbed the rest of his clothes and hurriedly left the shower room without looking at me again.


    I didn''t notice his tail, but it felt like... he was running away.


    That went well, wasn''t it?


    I took a few deep breaths, then glanced at the bulge in my groin, reached into my pants, and adjusted it to a more comfortable position.


    He''s your brother, for Rationalism''s sake, even if he''s only a half-brother, that doesn''t change the fact.


    I sighed deeply and leaned my whole body against the balcony railing, wondering how abnormal I could be.


    I stayed like that until the moon set and the first rays of dawn fell on me. I rolled my eyes, looking at the surroundings turned golden by the rising sun, including those corners previously covered only by shadows.


    The sunlight will shine equally on everything. Really, everything?


    As if to answer my question, the warm morning breeze, carrying the scent of distant grass and the subdued heat of the rising sun, gently kissed my face.


    Yes, really everything, truly.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - My name

    My name: For some people, this question is difficult to answer simply.


    "...Five people are working on the trolley car tracks, the noise of the construction is so loud they don''t notice the trolley car in the distance..." Luther raised his hand to ask a question, and I nodded, giving permission.


    "What is a trolley car ?" he asked, looking puzzled in a somewhat cute way.


    "Let''s change to a more appropriate scenario for the times," I said, pacing back and forth as I thought of a simpler, more understandable description. "On a magnetic levitation track, a transport ship is moving straight ahead. Its obstacle detection system is clearly malfunctioning because five people are somehow standing in its path, completely unaware of the ten-ton metal block speeding towards them without any sign of slowing down."


    I checked to see if he was following my explanation, but the lack of difference between his blank and focused expressions didn''t reveal much.


    "Conveniently, the control panel is right in front of you. With the push of a button, you can divert the transport ship onto another track." I expected him to be curious why the control panel was conveniently placed there, but he didn''t interrupt. "But unfortunately, on the other track, there''s also someone standing there for some reason."


    He tilted his right ear, perhaps wondering why so many people would be on the magnetic levitation track. Oh, trust me, you''ll understand in the future.


    "So, if you redirect the transport ship, the five people who would have been hit will be saved, but the person on the other track will be doomed." I walked back in front of him, looking into his eyes, which made the mutt uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. Perhaps it wasn''t necessary, but I wanted to emphasize the gravity of the situation. "So, the remaining question is--will you press the button and divert the transport ship?"


    I could see the turmoil in his eyes. Was he weighing the value of five lives against one, or was he considering whether his hand pressing the button would be stained with blood?


    "I would stop the transport ship," he finally said.


    "That''s not one of the options," I said curiously. Avoiding the pressure of making a choice is a common tactic, but it ultimately circles back to the same point. Let''s see where this path leads us and what we find along the way.


    "Captain Arthur said you once ignited the fusion reactor of the Empire''s Heart with sheer willpower," he said, meeting my gaze with a determined look. "And you said I would become stronger than you. If a psychic is someone who creates miracles and breaks rules, stopping a transport ship shouldn''t be difficult."


    He raised his chin defiantly, his sharp features forming a slightly challenging expression.


    "I don''t dislike that answer," I said positively, trying not to let too much resignation seep into my tone. "Remember how you feel now; in the future, I''m sure this courage to defy the rules will come in handy."


    He immediately smiled and even wagged his tail. Interesting...


    "But what if there are ten billion transport ships?" I think ten billion might still be manageable for him, but that''s not the point. "You must understand that one day, you ''will'' face a difficult choice with no way to avoid it." I placed a hand on his shoulder, emphasizing my words. "You need to know very clearly whether or not you''ll press the button and why you choose that way."


    His ears drooped slightly, and his brown eyes were filled with distress.


    Yes, if you truly care, it''s never an easy matter.


    "I don''t think I can answer that question now..." he murmured, looking uncertain.


    "Deep thought is a sign of wisdom," I said, stepping back. "We can discuss your decision later."


    If it were any other time, I might have told him that time waits for no one, and while you''re hesitating, the trolley car... no, the transport ship is still moving. But today, I''ve had enough philosophical discussion, and perhaps contemplation isn''t a bad thing--sometimes, genuine feelings are more important than logical understanding.


    "It''s time to continue practicing your abilities." I checked the time and made a decision. Even though he is always on the receiving end of the beatings, I could see the excitement in the mutt''s brown eyes. Like most teenagers, exciting activities always lift his spirits.


    I extended my consciousness, pulling out two pieces of adamant from a hidden compartment in the storage box, shaping them into spheres that orbited around us in an elliptical trajectory. He extended his consciousness as trained, neutralizing my conscious circle, so our conscious circles formed two semi-circles connected by their diameters. As the spheres entered each of our fields, we needed to take control of the adamant, maintaining a stable trajectory until they entered the other''s field, repeatedly.


    This is basic practice, sensing and judging the motion of objects, how to interfere with them using consciousness, and how much force to apply to achieve the goal. He wasn''t very skilled yet; two pieces were his limit, but I believe practice is the path to perfection.


    "Even though we have much to learn, we have at least determined that the core of psychic abilities revolves around the concept of ''self.''" I suddenly shaped one of the adamant pieces into an icosahedron, watching to see if he could maintain its trajectory. "How would you describe yourself to others?" He caught the metal piece and managed to keep a perfect elliptical trajectory. "In other words, what does ''I'' mean to you?"


    "I..." he hesitated, perhaps because I suddenly changed the shape of the other adamant piece to a cube, distracting him. "I am a mutt, Luther."


    "Species and name, a very Imperial answer," I thought with a smile, knowing I would have likely given the same answer when I was young. "So, what is your understanding of ''Luther''?" I changed the speed and added extra vectors to the metal pieces, complicating the trajectory, but he managed to keep it stable.


    "Just... me." He answered even more hesitantly, a drop of sweat trickling down his forehead. Introspection, concise but beautiful.


    "Names often carry meanings, whether expectations or cultural heritage." I split the adamant pieces into four, changing their shapes and having them orbit us at high speed on different elliptical trajectories. "Sometimes, these things imposed on us help us understand ourselves better."


    "We..." His eyes darted back and forth but found a way to stabilize the metal pieces. "We lower-class people don''t have such things," he said sharply.


    "That''s why I said ''sometimes,''" I replied softly, lowering my ears a bit. He lowered his gaze to apologize for his outburst.


    This kid is still sensitive about noble and commoner issues, but perhaps--let''s say--pampered as I am, I have little right to complain.


    "Understanding others is also crucial. Knowing ''I'' naturally leads to the question--what is not ''I''." I expanded my consciousness, starting to erode his field.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The mutt looked panicked, clearly unaware that consciousness fields could be used this way.


    "How do you distinguish self from others?" He expanded and strengthened his field boundaries to resist my erosion--but this wasn''t the way to stop it. "Not knowing yourself makes it impossible to know others. Likewise, not knowing others means you can''t know yourself."


    I applied some pressure, speeding up the erosion. He changed tactics, expanding his consciousness to envelop mine completely, only allowing me to continue eroding his field from all directions.


    "Of course, you could use a complete rejection strategy, ''you are you, and I am me''." He apparently understood my hint, successfully stopping the erosion. "But ''rejection'' alone is not enough for someone with skills or strength above yours..." I tilted my head, realizing this guy probably wouldn''t encounter anyone stronger than him, but the point was made. "...for a psychic. It''s not enough." I casually raised my right hand to emphasize.


    Erosion resumed, and he looked up at me, deep in thought. This mutt might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but with the right encouragement, he often surprised those who underestimated him.


    "Most of our preconceptions are wrong." I increased the adamant''s speed, making him pull his consciousness back to focus on control. "For example, are ''nobles'' always a certain way?"


    With enough deep erosion of his consciousness field, I could subtly correct the trajectory without the metal pieces flying out.


    "Let''s use Arthur as an example," the serious German Shepherd''s image flashed through my mind, making me chuckle. "Arthur Deutsch, a purebred German Shepherd, naturally inherited the family name."


    I merged the adamant back into two spheres, realizing he couldn''t handle such detailed psychic operations yet. The mutt wiped his sweaty forehead, panting lightly, focusing again on resisting my erosion.


    "But as a low-ranking noble, Baron Arthur had no land or wealth to inherit, just the family name. Without the means to navigate complex social circles, Arthur joined the Navy at sixteen." The mutt raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You didn''t know, right? He couldn''t even afford the Imperial Naval Academy; he worked his way up from the rank of a soldier." I said lightly. "Not to downplay your experiences or compare hardships, but sometimes being born a low-ranking noble isn''t luckier than being a commoner."


    Erosion slowed as he found a way to resist. Yes, understanding--understanding is most important; even trying can bring unimaginable changes. I nodded at him, seeing his smug expression, finding it amusing. Are you mistaken? Erosion hasn''t stopped yet.


    "By the time we met, he had already served in the Empire''s Heart Fleet for nearly a decade. Every member of the fleet, be they soldiers or officers, deeply respected his leadership abilities." I reminisced about Arthur''s deeds and the scene when we first met. Maybe I would share more details with this mongrel dog another day; who knows, offering a good role model might help... inspire him? "Arthur--honorable, noble--he lived up to the meaning of his name through his actions."


    "So... do all nobles have cool names?" He was clearly struggling to multitask, but the white shirt drenched in sweat showed he was giving it his all.


    "Well..." I pondered how to answer his question. "Yes and no."


    He rolled his eyes at my response, prompting me to flick the ear of this impudent mongrel dog, making him yelp. He put up a defensive barrier, but it was evidently fragile and blurry, as if it could shatter at any moment.


    "I''m not attacking you physically," I explained, pressing further and dispersing his barrier, causing him to shiver violently. "My mental erosion on your consciousness is too deep; you can''t stop me from directly touching your mind. So, find a way to stop the erosion."


    I flicked his ear again. He let out a weak whimper of complaint but didn''t let his guard down.


    "Back to our topic, yes, nobles often have cool names." I thought it might be better to delve into historical culture without delay, as knowledge is literally power for the psychics. "And no, people outside the nobility can have cool names too."


    He tilted his head, squinting slightly and folding his right ear.


    "Luther means warrior," I said calmly. He tilted his head to the other side, seeming doubtful but not displeased. Lost in thought, the mongrel dog''s large brown eyes blinked before he looked down at the floor.


    "And... what does Richter mean?" he asked after a long silence, meeting my gaze again.


    Ah, I hadn''t expected him to ask this. I had probably subconsciously tossed this question into some dark corner to forget about it. My heartbeat skipped a bit, making me feel uncomfortable.


    "It has no meaning," I said calmly. "Richter has no meaning."


    "But you''re a Wolf." A wave of energy rippled from the edge of his domain, clearly not buying my explanation. "Wolves are all royal members, with names corresponding to their respective factions," he said challengingly. "Like the current emperor--Piqsirpoq, which means ''snow.''" He crossed his arms and looked at me askance.


    "How do you know this so well?" I suppressed the bitterness in my mouth and asked.


    "After you asked which branch I belonged to, I talked with Ian about it," he shrugged. "People of the lower classes love discussing the royal family; fantasies help endure reality."


    His tone, calm but with a hint of sharpness, rendered me speechless, and I felt a sudden impulse to vent my long-suppressed emotions. But I held back.


    "Piqsirpoq doesn''t just mean ''snow''--it''s ''accumulated snow''--the Snow faction wolves are named after snow-related terms. Like ''Qana''--''falling snow,'' ''Klein''--''remembered snow,'' and so on." I let some images flash through my mind, feeling the sting as I uttered their names. "Other factions use similar rules. For instance, the Ash faction''s emperor, Dust Ash--''dust''--while the faction name means ''ash.''"


    I noticed the erosion had stopped, but he seemed too focused on the conversation to realize.


    "But... why does ''Richter'' have no meaning?" He was still dissatisfied with my explanation, probably thinking I was deliberately hiding something. "Aren''t you also a Wolf of the Snow faction?"


    "I''m not a Snow," I answered faster than I intended, revealing that even after all these years, I hadn''t truly let go. "Only those wolves who are expected to achieve something get names from their faction." My gaze drifted towards the viewport, where I saw a white wolf with blue-eyed looking back. "The rest are named according to a letter sequence chart, basically at random."


    "Oh." He responded simply, tapping the floor lightly with his boot, eyes downcast, lost in thought.


    At that moment, I noticed a change in the consciousness domain. He... had let down his boundaries and was instead eroding mine, causing our consciousness circle to intertwine and mix.


    "That''s the correct response." I nodded in approval. "It''s almost impossible to prevent a skilled and understanding adept psychic eroding your domain. Because the premise of erosion is understanding, which is the highest principle in psychic rules." I extracted the sweat from his clothes and threw it into the sink. "But if you respond with the same strategy, our domains will merge and interlock."


    I tried to flick his ear again but was blocked this time. I thought I saw a glint of triumph in the mongrel dog''s eyes.


    "You should notice that in this state, our domains make us both the center, allowing us to control the domain." I released my control over the aurum, letting him take over entirely. He explored this unfamiliar merged state of consciousness, somewhat confused. It was like an abstract painting, with distorted edges intermingling yet still distinct. "Since we can''t fully explain the principles of abilities, no one knows why this happens," I said, adjusting my clothes and noticing my own sweat. "But this is a common trait of consciousness circle used in cooperation or combat among psychics."


    I pointed to a locker, signaling him to return the aurum. He complied, then turned back, looking at me with those big, watery brown eyes. There was an emotion in them that made me uneasy. Before I could speak, he did.


    "I think ''Richter'' has a clear meaning," the mongrel dog said slowly. I unconsciously watched his white fangs as he spoke. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly looked away. "Richter is you." He scratched his ear and looked down at the floor. "Richter is your name."


    The blurred vision and the sting at the bridge of my nose made me so distracted that I almost missed the special vibration in the consciousness circle. It was a sign of the boundary dissolving and consciousness merging! Reflexively, I released the consciousness circle, letting our merged domains disappear, leaving only his.


    The mutt gave me a puzzled look, probably not yet understanding the significance of this vibration.


    "Arthur is on the bridge; he might need your help." I feigned calmness, picking up the terminal on my arm, pretending to press random buttons, fabricating a poor lie. "We''ll continue the lesson next time."


    "Uh... okay..." He released the consciousness circle too, gesturing toward the door, then awkwardly attempting some unrecognizable actions before giving up, scratching his head, and leaving the quarters.


    Once the door closed again, I exhaled a long breath, letting my body slump. I wasn''t even sure what game we were playing, but this mutt always managed to leave me in disarray.


    I took off the red commander''s coat, hanging it on the wall hook, then walked to the metal table by the viewport, picking up the glass pot and pouring myself a cup of black coffee.


    I took a few sips of the dark liquid, feeling the caffeine start to take effect.


    The vast deep space, the sparse stars, and the reflection of that white wolf with blue-eyed .


    "Richter," I whispered, feeling a sharp pang in my chest. "Richter is me." Even with my jaw trembling, I finished the sentence. The warm, wet sensation slid from the corner of my eyes as I finally let down my guard, embracing the buried emotions. "Richter is my name." It was like it was a part of me.


    Then, like a helpless pup, I cried uncontrollably.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 3 - Bread and Circuses 3.1

    Bread and Circuses: The grand arena cheered equally for barbarism and civilization.


    I opened my eyes and wiped the damp corners. I had already forgotten the dream''s content, but somehow, I felt much more comfortable inside.


    I sat up, yawned, stretched my body, and glanced at the slightly bright bluish-purple sky outside the window. I had slept longer today.


    As usual, I silently turned over and got out of bed. The moment my feet touched the floor, I released the tension in my leg muscles, springing across half the room and landing lightly by the door. I grabbed my backpack and slipped out of the room.


    Keeping my body low, I dashed through the corridors, occasionally twisting my body and swinging my tail to maintain balance, stepping on the walls to change direction, navigating the shortest path at high speed.


    I performed agile and fluid movements that could only exist in the imagination, perfectly showcasing my balance and explosive power. It was the epitome of grace, as if gravity couldn''t bind me, following only the rules I set. The world blurred into streaks, yet remained vividly clear.


    The stance of an psychic-- that''s what Qana called it -- abilities that not only controlled external objects but also propelled one''s own body, adjusting with precise force. Coupled with perfect perception of airflow, friction, gravity, and the distribution of objects in space, every minute variable could be mastered flawlessly.


    Most psychics unconsciously used their perceptive abilities to adjust their movements before displaying the power to control external objects. Therefore, individuals with sensitive minds and excellent physical coordination were often key indicators of potential psychics. However, Qana said he only confirmed my abilities after that wild incident in the shower, where I made too much commotion. My previous unconscious behavior of hiding my abilities left him uncertain about my awakening.


    But Qana still wouldn''t clearly explain why having abilities would pose a great danger to me, or why he didn''t show the same attention to my brother -- Qana knew Piqsirpoq was an psychic.


    Although these things didn''t really matter, I just wanted to enjoy the exhilarating sensation of the wind rushing past my fur.


    Becoming the wind, unrestrained and free.


    I still wasn''t sure what material this black solid was, only that it conducted heat quickly, the cold seeped into my spine from my back.


    "Get up, I know you absorbed the impact," Qana sheathed his sword, sounding a bit irritated. He didn''t like wasting time talking. "By the way, nice reaction."


    I placed my palms beside my head, curled up my lower body, then contracted my abdomen, springing up from a supine position, standing upright with my tail, and landing back on my feet. Qana watched the whole process silently, not commenting on the extravagant move.


    "You''ve almost mastered the technique of shielding yourself. I think we can prepare for the next step." He focused his consciousness, tapping the "mirror circle" at the outermost edge of my consciousness domain, causing ripples to spread.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Feeling the sword master''s approval, I sensed my tail wagging restlessly, like an overly excited pup.


    "But the preliminary rounds of the Selection have already started, so take this time to relax and have some fun." Qana sent a searching vibration, which was neutralized by an identical wave from my mirror circle, causing it to disappear into space.


    "But..." I finally understood that Qana meant to pause our training. "I have no interest in the Selection," I mumbled.


    Afternoon training was usually suspended for the entire Selection process, with most Snows treating it as a rare holiday, fully immersing themselves in the upcoming event -- participation -- something I never understood. But I didn''t expect my personal guidance to follow this rule; I might have gotten used to always being an "exception."


    "The world doesn''t revolve around you." Qana snorted, neutralizing my domain, then walked over and knocked on my head. "Who do you think has to oversee and judge, and prevent you hot-headed pups from killing each other?"


    "I don''t even know what the Selection is about..." I released my consciousness circle, rubbing my head and complaining. These extra holidays were usually spent in the library, where I enjoyed the quiet, solitary time and the irresistible charm of paper books.


    "I know you never care about what happens in the Senate, but this is a bit too much, it''s unhealthy." Qana sighed, turned and headed towards the exit, gesturing for me to follow. "When I was your age, I used to get so excited about the Selection, until it became my job." There was a hint of lament in the master''s tone.


    I followed silently, leaving the secret room with Qana, the black shale closing behind us without a trace.


    "Your defense circle didn''t activate just now," Qana suddenly said as we stepped onto the stone stairs.


    "Uh..." I scratched my ear, feeling embarrassed for not even noticing it. "Right."


    "Don''t make that mistake again." He continued in a calm tone without turning back. "Do you think I won''t hurt you? You should always stay vigilant and protect yourself."


    I didn''t know how to respond, just feeling a stuffy sensation in my chest.


    "But..." I wanted to say something, but the words caught in my throat.


    "Someday, you might meet someone truly worth trusting, and together, you will make a profound impact on the world." Qana stopped and turned to me. "I don''t want you to... encounter some kind of accident before that." He tilted his head.


    "Even if it means never truly trusting anyone..."I don''t want to know what kind of ''accidents'' he have in mind, and unsure why he hinted that I should guard against him.


    "There, there," Qana gave a somewhat sad smile. "Who''s talking about ''never truly trusting anyone''?" He ruffled my head, making my ears stand up again.


    The sword master turned back and continued walking.


    "Aren''t psychics able to read others'' emotions and thoughts?" I asked quietly, trying to voice my doubt. "Then why are there still... accidents or considerations about whom to trust?"


    "What do you think is the meaning of an psychic''s existence?" Qana didn''t answer directly but threw a new question at me.


    "Some kind of... overwhelmingly powerful individual, breaking limitations to achieve near-miraculous feats?" I hadn''t really thought about this question. "Is there any particular meaning to that? Isn''t an ability just a trait? Like evolution, it has no direction, just a... tool."


    "Meaning must be assigned, and only assigned meaning has meaning. We are all just particles randomly colliding in the vast world, but meaning gives us existence." Qana''s voice echoed between the rock walls, slightly detached. "One day, you will find the answer to why psychics exist."


    Although the sword master''s tone seemed to decide the end of this topic, something about Qana''s way of speaking made me notice a question I hadn''t thought about.


    "But..." If the existence of abilities truly had a meaning, it implied the possibility of a higher-level existence. Isn''t this some irresponsible fantasy? And what answer would I get? How would I describe and interpret this question? "Isn''t existence itself the most practical meaning?"


    "Oh?" Qana stopped, turned back to me with a faint smile, and one ear perked up in interest. "Have you been spending too much time with Eulap?" His deep blue eyes gleamed with a playful glint, yet also seemed to search for something. "Then tell me, what do you think about ''existence itself''?"


    Qana''s low voice resonated within the rock walls, eliciting a certain resonance, like the most thorough self-examination or the purest curiosity, eagerly awaiting my answer.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 3 - Bread and Circuses 3.2

    Void roams, and suddenly, a gleam of light appears.


    It is not a beginning but an awakening, a consciousness.


    From the sound of cries, the world opens up.


    Scorching body heat, delicate fur, a sense of comfort and warmth, and a wet, warm licking.


    Touch and embrace, kisses and whispers, snuggling together, like the temperature of golden sunlight beginning to melt the snow.


    "Qirnangajuq."


    Laughter.


    "Stop showing off; I never learned Inuktitut."


    More laughter.


    "Gray snow."


    I opened my eyes, surprised that I had fallen asleep--something that had never happened before.


    Noticing that I was lying on the book, I immediately sprang up from the desk, wiping the corners of my mouth to check for drool, fearing it might have soiled the book.


    Luckily, there was no damage. I flipped through the pages, thoroughly inspecting it from cover to cover, ensuring it was in perfect condition. Otherwise, the librarian would have skinned me alive. Even though this was a reprinted version based on the library''s archives, it was already a century old, and Master Ontara took his duties very seriously. I had no desire to find out if the rumors about some books being bound in wolf skin were true.


    Then again, this book was "Atlas Shrugged." It would be hard to make it any dirtier, even if I peed on it. I shivered at the thought of some of its content and wondered if steel wool could scrape the memory from my brain.


    Qana had mentioned that psychics could manipulate memories, so maybe I could try that sometime.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Gathering my things, I slung my backpack over my shoulders and handed the book to the robotic arm on the shelf, letting it check the book''s condition and reshelve it.


    "Changing tastes?" On my way out of the library, Master Ontara looked up from the terminal, a rare occurrence.


    "Exploring different perspectives of the world, or something like that." I found a noble-sounding answer and praised myself for my bravery. "Understanding different viewpoints might help with... communication."


    "Young pup should keep an open mind." Master Ontara grinned, making me wonder if he was mocking me or telling some joke only he understood.


    "But..." I hesitated, then turned back to the master''s desk. "Is it really possible to understand each other, these... fundamental differences?" I asked the question that had been bothering me for a long time.


    "It is possible." The librarian pushed his glasses up, and the changing display text reflected in his eyes, the celestine-like irises flashing various light spots that made it hard for me to maintain eye contact. "Objective facts are the basis for dialogue and discussion. Even if the stances are different, it is possible to negotiate a solution acceptable to everyone." He stuck out his tongue and continued, "At least, it was before the ''post-truth era'' began."


    "How did they finally... resolve the issue?" I had heard of that era, one of the darkest periods in Gaia''s history. "What allowed people to start communicating again without throwing the whole world into a happiness machine?"


    "Oh, trust me, they almost did that." The librarian laughed, taking off his glasses to wipe the corners of his eyes.


    They?


    "But that''s the historian''s job; I don''t like to meddle in others'' professions." Ontara winked at me and gestured towards the library exit, indicating I could leave as he continued working on the terminal.


    I had more questions, but after sensing the unusual vibration, I bowed to the master and left.


    It was a wave--Master Ontara had tried to achieve some effect on me using a vibration I didn''t recognize, but it was neutralized by my mirror circle.


    I made a mental note of the pattern, moving slowly down the empty corridor and pondering.


    Psychics could perform various miraculous things, but specifically, what were they? How many had I not even considered? And just among the Snows, how many psychics were here? How many had I missed, and which ones, as Qana had said, could be dangerous to me?


    What about beyond Hadrian''s Wall, beyond the Senate, and the world? Even though I didn''t care about the Senate, I couldn''t say I truly understood the outside world, let alone the parts related to psychic. I started to understand why Qana said we didn''t have much time.


    I silently resolved that once Qana had the time, I would thoroughly ask him about the community of psychics and their relationship with the world. I no longer wanted to fumble through this incomprehensible world under a curtain.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 3 - Bread and Circuses 3.3

    Apparently, everyone had already left early to secure their spots, so there wasn''t a single person in the capsule station. I found the platform heading towards the "Colosseum" and watched the white, streamlined capsule silently glide through the vacuum coil tube, stopping in front of me as the tube''s opening and the capsule''s door simultaneously opened.


    The seats were quite comfortable, the kind that made you sink in and never want to leave. This was my first time using the capsule high-speed rail, so I wasn''t sure if this was standard or a special upgrade for the celebration event like the Selection.


    A few seconds after the tube sealed, the capsule began to move. I heard this thing could reach speeds of up to a thousand kilometers per hour, but with the Hadrian Wall to the Colosseum only about a hundred kilometers away, I wouldn''t get the chance to experience the top speed.


    In the vast darkness of the underground space, I watched each electromagnetic coil blur into the background, feeling a kind of low-frequency, stable vibration in the air.


    I took out my personal terminal and activated the browser to search. Some things the Library Master said earlier made me think about my previous questions regarding the happiness machine.


    "Neural interface, visual reconstruction." As soon as I spoke, the terminal screen displayed the search results, and I selected an entry that seemed to fit my needs.


    "... In most cases requiring visual reconstruction, the optic nerve has atrophied and cannot function properly. Therefore, the most common alternative is to use the facial nerve as a substitute conduction pathway."


    I scrolled down the page, looking at several photos showing different styles of goggles. The basic structure was the same: dark lenses with high-polymer structures crossing the snout, covering the area from the brow to the cheekbones, with metallic pads on either side extending to the temples.


    "... The surgery is irreversible and often results in the loss of taste. In rare cases, it can lead to issues with facial muscle control."


    I tapped my temple, imagining the feeling of having to choose between two senses to sacrifice.


    "... The goggles detect head and eye movements and transmit visual signals back to the brain. By fully simulating neural electrical signals, the imaging result is theoretically indistinguishable from original vision. However, current technology still faces some obstacles in capturing non-luminous objects."


    Noticing the capsule slowing down, I sped up my reading.


    "... By connecting to other external electronic devices, the neural interface essentially becomes a type of ''electronic eye,'' blurring the line between reality and the metaverse. Naturally, incorporating features like photography, high magnification zoom, and invisible light detection, the term ''world seen through the eyes'' takes on a very different interpretation. Since these signals are directly input into the brain, information security is a crucial concern..."


    The capsule slid into the station, and upon re-entering the illuminated area, I was immediately struck by the grandeur of the Colosseum''s high ceilings. Various reliefs and murals looked down from above, making me feel insignificantly small. I pulled the browser page to the bottom, intending to finish reading the entry before the capsule came to a complete stop.


    "... Hearing can also be restored using similar methods, at least simulating the original electro-physiological signals. However, given the limited number of neurons in the brain, the assistance provided by signal simulation is still limited... For more extreme cases, or applications in severe disabilities, refer to the ''Happiness Machine'' entry."


    I shrugged, closed the screen, and put the terminal back into the strap on my left arm. I had gathered enough information and temporarily had no further questions about the happiness machine.


    The capsule and the tube opening synchronized and opened. I stepped onto the platform, took a moment to admire the ceiling''s artwork, and then looked around. Following the signs on the walls, I found my way to the auditorium area, where the viewing rooms for the broadcast were located. I chose the least crowded broadcast room as my destination, but according to the display, there were still nearly a thousand people inside, almost the size of an entire faction.


    At one of the intersections, I saw several older gray wolves from different factions


    waiting by the entrance of a moving cabin, quietly chatting with each other. According to the sign, it led to the ground seats, so although they weren''t wearing toga robes, they should be notable figures in their respective factions.


    "Hey, it''s Snow!" An excited voice, trying to stay low but failing, said. It took me a while to realize they were referring to me, as there were no other white wolves in the hallway.


    The fur on my neck stood up, itching irritably, and my ears drooped helplessly against my head.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Only outsiders would use the name Snow to refer to me... It felt strange, and I didn''t know how to react. Does it affect whether I am truly considered Snow if I haven''t been accepted by the pack? If a wolf isn''t accepted by the pack, is it still a wolf? What do I think of myself? Do I consider myself Snow? If not, then what am I?


    "Where are your manners?" A deeper voice reprimanded, and the first voice let out a faint whimper.


    Seizing the moment, I glanced back towards the source of the voices. It was two young Nyxies, the older one looking about my age, with thick, shiny black fur reflecting the soft light from above.


    Noticing my gaze, the older wolf lowered his eyes, slowly shifting his ears back, and swished them a few times. When he saw that the young wolf was still staring at me, he bared one side of his fangs and let out a low growl, making the young wolf immediately lower his gaze and ears, tail curling slightly between his legs.


    I flattened my ears against my head, slightly parted my mouth without showing my teeth, blinked, and gently wagged my tail to show goodwill and defuse the tension, indicating that I was not offended.


    Many people often say that the all-black fur of the Nyx faction makes communication difficult, but I think those who say that are just making excuses for their incompetence--laziness is just laziness.


    "The pup is visiting Colosseum for the first time and got a bit too excited," the black wolf said, walking over and apologizing again with his ears lowered. "Aether Nyx." He lightly pressed his palm against his chest and bowed his head to introduce himself.


    "Momus Nyx." The young wolf tried to mimic Aether''s gesture but was a bit clumsy, to which the older black wolf responded with a light sigh and lowered his head further.


    Even among the Nyx faction, known for their elegant demeanor and natural pride, not all members were born that way--I silently mocked my own thoughts.


    "Richter." I introduced myself with the same gesture, noticing Aether''s ears twitch slightly but showing no other reaction, while Momus looked at me with a puzzled expression.


    "Why is your...?" Momus''s question was cut off as Aether quickly smacked the back of the young wolf''s head, leaving only a black blur.


    "Shall we go in?" Aether suggested, ignoring the young wolf''s soft grumbling. "It''s about to start."


    "Of course." I said, giving Aether a grateful look. He maintained a serious expression, nodding at me with a slight movement, making his yellow eyes seem to flash with a golden glow. Maybe it was the lighting, or perhaps just my imagination.


    The automatic door to the broadcast room slid open as we approached, revealing a circular room similar to a lecture hall but completely round, with rows of curved seats and a central holographic projector displaying the terrain and landscape of Colosseum. Most of the wolves inside were looking at their terminals, and I knew the broadcast server offered zoom and focus features on specific areas of the arena.


    "It''s Qana!" Momus, who had seemed sullen a moment ago, lit up with excitement as we settled into an unoccupied area, his attention drawn to the swordmaster on the screen. "I wish I could be trained by The Empire''s Premier Swordsman instead of reciting what some dead guy did thousands of years ago..."


    Aether raised an eyebrow, glancing at the mumbling young wolf, his thoughts unreadable.


    "Qana hasn''t been The Empire''s Premier Swordsman for many years," I pointed out, watching the swordmaster, who was growing increasingly impatient with the interviewers. I couldn''t help but admire their bravery. Whenever Qana looked at me like that, I couldn''t help but tuck my tail between my legs.


    "Of course, you have to consider their prime. Qana is undoubtedly the best among the living swordmasters!" Momus continued to stare at the image of Qana, his tone as if stating an obvious fact. Aether frowned at this, perhaps considering whether to scold the young wolf again for his impoliteness. "And most of The Empire''s Premier Swordsman have been from the Snow faction; other factions don''t even get a chance..." The young wolf''s tone grew somber as he glanced at me, then lowered his eyes, looking at his dangling feet.


    "I think Qana would be happy to hear that you support him." Probably not. "I can convey your sentiments to him." I could almost imagine the swordmaster raising an eyebrow at me, but I didn''t want to disappoint the young wolf.


    "You know Qana Snow?" His ears perked up, and he turned towards me suddenly.


    "Uh... yes." I confirmed with my body language. "He is my swordsmanship instructor..."


    The young wolf suddenly pounced on me, grabbing my collar and excitedly shouting something at a speed I could only guess was a request to meet Qana. For a moment, I didn''t know how to react to this sudden development and could only let the pup jump around on me until Aether grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, lifting Momus and placing him back in his seat.


    The surrounding wolves were loudly cheering for their favorite teams during the interviews, so the whole episode went unnoticed by anyone else. The only performers in this little drama were Aether, looking both helpless and embarrassed, Momus, still wildly waving his limbs and attempting to pounce on me again, and myself, left with no choice but to straighten my disheveled clothes.


    "After today''s event, I have an appointment with Qana," I recalled the message from the swordmaster sent to my terminal last night, asking me to watch the Selection and meet him after the first day''s schedule. I wasn''t sure if this was the kind of meeting where I could bring along a fervent fan. "Maybe there''s a chance to..."


    "That''s fantastic!" Before I could finish, the young wolf interrupted me with a loud cheer, his voice rising in volume and pitch with every word. Aether immediately grabbed Momus by the snout, muffling his speech into incoherent sounds.


    Interestingly, this didn''t deter the young wolf''s expression of joy at all. He continued to flail his limbs and wriggle in his seat. At least Momus was successfully restrained, and Aether looked at me apologetically, his ears flattened against his head.


    For some reason, the sight made me smile, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. I blinked at Aether and gently shook my head, indicating I didn''t mind. The black wolf immediately perked up his ears, released Momus, and quickly turned his gaze to the broadcast, feigning sudden interest.


    Confused, I slowly folded my right ear, but I noticed a slight blush at the tips of Aether''s sparser ear fur. Realizing what this reaction meant, I turned my gaze away as well, feeling a warm flush rise to my cheeks.


    Well... this is... interesting? Is this what being... uh... complimented feels like?


    We both stared at the broadcast screen, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him steal a glance at me before quickly looking away again. It made it harder to focus on pretending to watch the broadcast, and my ears grew warmer. For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of Momus''s tail fur.


    Is it because it''s the first time receiving goodwill from someone my age that this feeling is so... intense? Or is this what they call... an indescribable emotion?


    "How big is the Colosseum anyway?" Momus broke the awkward silence, and I was sure I heard Aether sigh in relief. Naturally, I did too.


    "The plain area is about three hundred and forty square kilometers if you use the levee as a baseline," Aether said, showing the young wolf his terminal and pointing to the coastal region''s levees. "The sloped area has a projected area of about twenty-five thousand square kilometers."


    I looked at Aether, my ears perked towards him in admiration. He shrugged, indicating it was no big deal.


    "It''s really huge," Momus said, swinging his little legs in sync with his tail''s movement.


    "After all, the initial plan was to encompass the entire basin," Aether said, to which the young wolf nodded in response.


    "I thought it was the Ash faction responsible for planetary studies," I said, turning back to the broadcast with a submissive tone, not wanting to be misunderstood.


    "This falls under history," Aether clarified, adjusting his posture and placing his terminal back on his arm.


    "The most boring kind..." Momus muttered, his tail flicking to the left in displeasure.


    Aether showed a nearly helpless expression, patting the young wolf''s head. Before he could say anything, the other wolves in the room cheered like a wave, drawing our attention back to the broadcast.


    A thunderous roar marked the official start of the first match of the Selection.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 3 - Bread and Circuses 3.4

    Dots began to appear on the projected map, grouped in clusters of five, distributed evenly across the slopes surrounding the basin. These represented the seven factions, each marked in their respective colors. Briefly, a live feed focused on one of the teams'' leaders--Piqsirpoq, whose icy eyes scanned left and right, issuing commands with calm authority.


    From the information given earlier, I knew that the preliminary round was a free-for-all points competition. Within a limited time, teams scored points by capturing zones, seizing targets, or incapacitating enemy teams. The scores and captured zones from the first day would carry over, making an early advantage crucial for future rounds.


    "As expected, Snow''s team moved towards the central area without wasting a moment, aiming to secure the resources there. Is this a display of confidence in their combat skills, or merely an extension of Snow''s pride?"


    I figured it was both, fitting Piqsirpoq''s character well. Yet, it was likely a calculated decision rather than a rash move.


    Each faction had its own areas of expertise. Nyx handled history, politics, and law; Gray dealt with biology and medicine; Ash focused on planetary environments and physics; and Snow''s domain was the art of war and combat. That''s why, most of the time, the title of "The Empire''s Premier Swordsman" belonged to a Snow member, with only occasional exceptions from other factions. Other canines across the Empire''s history held the title less than ten times.


    Thus, Piqsirpoq wasn''t worried about increased skirmishes in the central area; he probably welcomed it. Securing better equipment from the central zones would boost their chances of successfully pursuing and defeating enemy teams in the expansive terrain. Without such an advantage, relying on a strategy of incapacitating opponents would be challenging given the dispersed starting positions.


    "Other teams are efficiently searching for nearby equipment and beginning to secure their initial zones, while Snow has already opened several crates... Jackpot! Look at their excitement--boys and their toys!"


    Two Snow members I didn''t recognize each slung a newly assembled rifle over their shoulders and started distributing batteries. Piqsirpoq strapped a longsword to his waist--his typical style. The other two Snow members were crouched nearby, though I couldn''t see what they were doing.


    "Most teams have secured their starting zones, putting everyone ahead of Snow, who has only gathered a few resource points so far. All teams are moving to their next targets... Wait, am I seeing this right?"


    A murmur of excitement spread through the broadcast room, a buzzing hum of whispers.


    "Nyx''s team is spreading out! Even though capturing the outer zones isn''t too challenging, Nyx must be confident... Oh, it''s ''The Cloak''! Nyx''s team just found ''The Cloak''!"


    Three black dots on the map turned semi-transparent, moving swiftly in different directions. Curious, I pulled out my terminal, connected to the internal network, and zoomed in on Nyx''s semi-transparent team members.


    Black wolves ran, hoods up, cloaks billowing behind them, shifting colors and patterns to blend with their surroundings. I tapped the equipment info, revealing the cloak''s details: electronic signal shielding and optical camouflage.


    "Bold move! But even with stealth capabilities, spreading the team is risky, not to mention capturing zones reveals their location. Will Nyx''s high-risk strategy pay off?"


    The closest two teams to Nyx started closing in, shortening the distance, likely aiming to pick off the scattered black wolves.


    "Do you know him?" I asked the Nyx members beside me, pointing to the terminal and zooming in on the black wolf leader''s profile.


    "Olethros?" Aether shook his head slightly. "Not really."


    The young wolf seemed too engrossed in the broadcast to respond to me.


    "The second stage of zone captures is complete! Nyx''s strategy worked, giving them a temporary lead!"


    The arena map filled with more black zones than the second-place team by four. But seeing Nyx''s positions, Flash and Wood''s teams quickly moved towards the nearest Nyx zones.


    "Direct conflict in the Selection rarely happens this early, usually not until zone saturation. It seems Nyx''s new strategy is provoking different responses. Will they manage... What?"


    The remaining two black dots also turned semi-transparent. Flash and Wood''s teams hesitated briefly.


    "Five cloaks! What''s happening? Did Nyx really find five cloaks? Is that even fair?"


    I replayed the timeline, focusing on the Nyx team. I noticed that while one member was busy solving the capture puzzle, the others swiftly searched the nearby equipment crates, just like most teams. The difference was that the black wolves ran farther, checked more crates, and didn''t spend time assembling weapons. Instead, they took single-piece auxiliary equipment, giving them more chances to inspect more crates and gather what they needed.


    Even though they could disappear from the radar, true invisibility with optical camouflage was still very difficult. Splitting up was still a disadvantage for the Nyx team, and obviously, both Flash and Wood knew this.


    "Oh," Aether muttered, understanding dawning on his face. "Olethros has led them into a trap."


    "A trap?" I rewound the timeline and checked the Nyx members'' equipment list but found nothing resembling trap-making materials or tools.


    "Not that kind." He gestured toward Flash''s team. "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link."


    The semi-transparent black dots remained still, with a few pale yellow dots passing close by Olethros without noticing him.


    As I zoomed in, I caught the moment Olethros jumped from a tree, pinning the rear-most, isolated Flash member to the ground, face down.


    "Beautiful takedown! One of Flash''s members is unconscious, adding significantly to Nyx''s score. But is exposing their leader to enemy attacks worth it?"


    The commotion behind alerted the blond wolves, who turned to attack the retreating black wolf. Two threw what looked like snares. The black wolf glanced back and dodged smoothly, leaping to the side. But as he landed, a plasma shot hit him, sending Olethros rolling on the ground, dry yellow leaves swirling into the air.


    "Oh, that must hurt! The Nyx leader is still conscious, but can he still move?"


    A Flash member approached Olethros cautiously, aware the black wolf wasn''t knocked out.


    Suddenly, Olethros , who had been lying on the ground, raised a hand and threw something at the nearest enemy member, who dodged quickly. Another Flash member, however, got tangled in a smoldering cloak, swearing as he tried to free himself.


    Olethros seized the opportunity, nimbly getting up and moving swiftly between cover, escaping Flash''s attack range.


    "It seems the cloak absorbed some of the plasma damage. Olethros is still mobile! Now, Nyx has pulled away, and Flash seems intent on chasing them. But as the saying goes--while the mantis stalks the cicada, the oriole waits behind!"


    A burst of plasma fire forced four Flash members to seek cover, abandoning the chase, prompting cheers in the broadcast room as black-furred arms waved in the air.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Wood''s team approached from another direction. Despite having long-cooldown plasma rifles, three members carried rifles, giving them a firepower advantage. Flash''s leader shot at Wood''s nearest member, forcing them into cover, then issued orders to the rest.


    "This is a trap forcing them to fight each other," Aether explained. "With one member down and inferior equipment, Flash can be annihilated by Wood if they choose."


    The black wolf synced his terminal with mine, manipulating the interface and highlighting the semi-transparent black dots retreating to a farther distance.


    "Even with superior firepower, Wood can''t avoid losses in a direct confrontation." Aether pointed to Olethros'' dot. "Olethros is still nearby, but they don''t know the other Nyx members are capturing more zones. Any decision to attack or retreat must consider third-party interference."


    I nodded, understanding the tactical situation. Clearly, strategy was part of history too.


    "Flash and Wood are in a stalemate, with Nyx applying constant pressure from the side! A brilliant setup that will surely boost Olethros'' reputation! But let''s hear from Master Thanatos!"


    A frame appeared in the lower-left corner of the screen, showing a sharp-eyed black wolf.


    "This is a typical Spartacus game," he explained, drawing lines on the arena map. "Flash and Wood are like two gladiators of unequal strength." Thanatos circled the two teams. The camera showed Wood advancing while Flash tried to retreat, occasionally exchanging plasma fire. "The stronger gladiator will undoubtedly win, but the survivor will remain a slave to the Romans." Thanatos squinted slightly.


    "Master Historian often mentions this game model," Aether added, shrugging. "The only chance for gladiators to win is to recognize the true enemy is Rome and cooperate to rebel. But the risk of the first to lay down arms is too high, so the equilibrium is the Romans continuing to enjoy the gladiators killing each other, with rebellion never occurring, especially since Rome holds an information advantage."


    I nodded, pondering the situation. I didn''t understand all the technical terms Aether used, but I grasped the current scenario--for Flash and Wood, the best outcome would be to stop fighting and attack Nyx. But Wood didn''t know where Nyx was or their combat capabilities, and they couldn''t resist the temptation of eliminating Flash. As for Flash, being under attack made cooperation with Wood impossible.


    I was witnessing a highly condensed, simplified reenactment of history. Somehow, it made me feel a bit sad.


    "But Nyx isn''t entirely safe in this scenario either." Thanatos smiled, pointing to other teams. "The Celts, Gauls, and Germans are still active."


    Gray, Ash, and Mottle each captured a new zone. Gray and Ash, because nearby enemy teams were engaged in their own standoffs, also started splitting members to increase their capture speed.


    Nyx''s lead was shrinking. I saw Olethros frown momentarily, but he remained low behind cover, not taking further action.


    "More interestingly," Thanatos laughed, showing his white fangs. "The Huns arrived four centuries early."


    The central zone of the arena turned white as Snow''s score surged to first place. The room of white wolves erupted in cheers, even a few howls.


    "What a shock! Although it''s just the first-generation Deep Blue, solving the central zone puzzle in such a short time is definitely a record!"


    "It seems chess is a form of warfare," I remarked. Aether nodded, scratching his chin.


    The camera focused on Piqsirpoq, whose icy eyes glanced at us sharply, his fur and ears swaying in the wind.


    As biased as it might sound, honestly, he looked quite handsome.


    "Snow''s leader looks a lot like you," Momus said with a smile.


    "Oh..." I tried to minimize the hesitation in my voice. "Piqsirpoq is my brother."


    "So cool!" Momus said happily, elbowing Aether, who just grunted in response. "I wish I had a brother that cool."


    Aether''s expression didn''t change, but I caught the moment his body stiffened. I was familiar with that feeling of knowing you weren''t needed.


    "Why not? Aether is cool too." I said, feeling my mouth curl up. "I''m sure Piqsirpoq doesn''t even know what the Spartacus dilemma is."


    I glanced at Aether. His expression didn''t change, but I was sure his ears stood a bit straighter. The little wolf also made a skeptical sound, glancing at Aether, but Momus''s wagging tail revealed his true feelings.


    I refocused on the broadcast, keeping up with the latest developments.


    I wasn''t saying this out of pity, was I? I truly believed Aether was cool too. And compared to Piqsirpoq, Aether was definitely a more competent brother. Besides, so what if it was out of pity? My smile widened, and my tail tip wagged gently.


    The broadcast''s lower-left frame showed Qana repeatedly waving off the camera, not wanting to be disturbed.


    "Bold tactics, Skrynia has always demonstrated impressive chess skills." Qana finally gave up resisting, crossing his arms and evaluating. "The central zone puzzle had some luck involved, but Snow''s team made excellent decisions, capitalizing on favorable opportunities." He examined Snow''s equipment info. "This is a fully equipped tactical team. With their abilities, eliminating other poorly equipped teams will be easy. Even if all factions unite against Snow, it will only delay the inevitable."


    Qana''s prediction caused murmurs in the room, many wolves whispering to each other. The sword master wouldn''t make such a conclusion lightly; it seemed the situation had reached a critical point.


    I replayed the timeline, and while Skrynia played chess with Deep Blue, the others cleared out the central zone''s equipment crates.


    "The key question now is whether Snow intends to further solidify their lead, setting a more stable foundation for the coming days, or quickly eliminate other teams to prevent them from surviving and creating variables." A new frame appeared, and a light blond wolf, clearly displeased with his team''s bottom ranking, spoke in a low voice.


    Who knows, maybe he was just like Qana, annoyed by constant interruptions.


    "Or perhaps," Thanatos spoke again, clearly enjoying the commentary selection process unlike the other two masters, "the remaining factions will decide to unite against Snow, willing to fight even without any chance of victory?"


    "I tend to believe they will act more rationally," a female brown wolf joined the conversation. "While there''s still a chance, they should divide the remaining areas and try to snatch limited resources from weaker opponents. Dog eat dog... or in this case, wolf eat wolf."


    "These moments are always thrilling and exciting, right, Master Willow?" Thanatos enthusiastically asked. "What kind of surprises will the young ones bring us, revealing new possibilities?"


    "Not at all," Willow pushed her glasses and replied succinctly, making Thanatos laugh again.


    "But look, Wood''s team has stopped attacking Flash." Thanatos pointed out the arena''s edge activities, causing Willow to click his tongue. "Oh, they''re negotiating, good job!" Thanatos even clapped his hands and laughed, while the light blond wolf raised an eyebrow, looking less anxious.


    "...a waste of teaching." Willow muttered something inaudible, but it made Thanatos laugh even harder.


    I rewound the timeline to after Snow occupied the central area. Nyx decided to stop hiding and took over four more areas from slopes to plains. This change clearly made the brown wolves uneasy, leading Wood''s leader to halt their attack.


    "Claiming to cooperate while taking advantage of the chaos." The light blond wolf grumbled and glanced sideways, where I guessed Thanatos was sitting.


    "Hey, Master Lux, that''s not very gracious." Thanatos smiled cunningly.


    "If Flash''s team were leading, I could be gracious too." Lux crossed his arms and leaned back, making Thanatos laugh again, while Willow just pursed her lips and said nothing.


    "I might sound odd saying this," Qana still tried to fend off the camera, making his screen shake, "but let me remind all masters that we are accountable to the Senate."


    After Qana spoke, Thanatos shook his head but still had a smug smile, while Lux''s face turned even grimmer. Willow rolled her eyes and shook his head, clearly feeling exasperated. As for Qana, he finally managed to black out his screen, disappearing from view.


    It seemed the interaction among the masters was a highlight of the Selection process, with the broadcasting wolves not wanting to miss any juicy details. Soon, Qana''s image reappeared on screen, and I noticed his hand gripping the sword hilt tightly, veins bulging, indicating he used a lot of willpower to keep the sword sheathed.


    "I heard they used to be very close," Aether suddenly said, catching me off guard.


    "What?" I perked up my ears, turning to Aether.


    "Qana Snow and Willow Wood," he murmured. "Qana almost requested to transfer to Wood''s base, a hot topic at the time." Aether glanced at me and continued slowly. "The Empire''s Premier Swordsman and a renowned interstellar econometrician. It wasn''t just their factions; the whole Senate was abuzz."


    "But..." I knew some members from different factions temporarily lived in non-native bases due to work or assignment. But Aether''s tone made it sound like Qana planned to... leave Snow. "Aren''t they from different factions?" I always thought this was forbidden.


    "It used to be common, but now it seems only Nyx remembers." Aether fell silent for a while. "Actually, it wasn''t long ago, just about ten or twenty years."


    He gestured at the diverse wolves in the broadcast room.


    "Different factions preserve the most suitable assets according to their genotypes." Aether tapped his temple. "Efficient logic and memory from neural synaptic networks," he glanced at me, "high-density myelin and unique metabolism granting nerve reflexes and physical qualities," the black wolf pointed at a mottled wolf in front of us. "Mottle''s absolute pitch, color sensitivity, and relatively high synesthesia frequency, enabling them to explore the world in ways others can''t comprehend." Aether''s tone grew detached, his gaze distant.


    I scanned the broadcast room, observing the various wolves with different fur and eye colors. This was something all wolves were constantly reminded of from birth--the reason we are who we are.


    "But what about those who can''t meet these expectations?" Aether lowered his gaze, looking at Momus. The little wolf was happily laughing, baring white teeth, and wagging his tail vigorously, focused on the projection screen, oblivious to his brother''s gaze. "Previously, wolves from different factions commonly left their birthplace to develop in suitable fields--even outside the Senate''s reach--without losing the faction''s support." Aether turned back, yellow eyes on the ground, ears drooping. "Until... that incident happened."


    I knew exactly what he was talking about. Suddenly, my tail tip started to itch, even though I knew it was just an illusion--I had just plucked out the new gray hairs yesterday.


    "Sorry..." I squeezed the words through clenched teeth, ears flat against my head.


    It felt like falling, eternally, endlessly, and emptily into the darkness.


    No one would hear me, no one would see me, no one... could catch me.


    My existence was a mistake, embodying all abnormalities, unable to belong anywhere, because I was an outlier. How many problems could have been avoided if I had never been born? Wolves unsuited to their factions could move freely, Piqsirpoq wouldn''t have lost his father, and even the mother I never met would probably have been better off. A mutt... isn''t that what I am? A mutt, just...


    "Why apologize?" Aether said.


    "What?" Deep in my thoughts, I didn''t immediately grasp what he meant.


    "Why apologize?" The black wolf slowed his speech, repeating, his white fangs showing slightly as he enunciated each word, yellow eyes still on the projection screen. "Is it your fault?"


    The fall stopped. Not landing on solid ground, but something caught me in the endless darkness. At the bottom of the abyss, there was a faint light. Weak and flickering, as if it might disappear at any moment, but undeniably there.


    Was this my fault?


    No one should ever apologize for their innate traits--any of them.


    This isn''t my fault.


    Understanding this simple truth, I leaned back, allowing myself to relax.


    It was just that simple.


    The remaining time passed with occasional gasps and cheers from the surrounding wolves, responding to the commentator''s excited tone. Even when Piqsirpoq''s face appeared again as the focus of the screen, I didn''t pay much attention.


    Now, something more important occupied my thoughts.


    Through blurred vision, I saw myself more clearly.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.1

    Lyre and Sand: "''Build the empire with wheat, not sand.'' It''s said that I dance amidst the flames, playing the lyre and singing."


    After meeting with Qana yesterday, we practiced with longswords until late into the night, which might have exhausted me too much. It wasn''t until I heard a distinct sound that I woke up. Opening my eyes, I saw the sword master threading his belt through the loops of his pants.


    I wanted to look away because it felt really weird, but I couldn''t. The sight was too overwhelming--it was a work of art.


    Qana''s short, pure white summer fur didn''t cover the sculpted, knotted muscles of his back, paired with huge, bulging biceps and deltoids, making him look like a magnificent marble statue.


    I heard the clink of metal as Qana buckled his belt, then he turned to face me, seemingly searching for something on the bed.


    For the love of Rationalism, turn your head away! Or at least close your mouth and lift your jaw!


    I saw my conscience standing nearby, tugging at my ear and yelling admonishments. But I also noticed he kept glancing at Qana--humph, hypocrite. Wipe your own drool first.


    But I could understand the struggle--his abs were so defined they showed through his fur, and his massive, rugged pectorals...


    I finally regained some rationality and snapped my head away. Staring any longer might have made the urban legend about nosebleeds from excitement a reality.


    Why does this keep happening? It''s so weird! Do other wolves with the same "preference" have this trouble, or am I an outlier even among the minority? Maybe I could ask Aether--can I ask Aether? I could ask Aether, right?If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    I helplessly scrubbed my face and snout fur with my hands, trying to wake up or something.


    Great, first Piqsirpoq--my half-brother--and now Qana. Though the temperamental, unsmiling sword master hadn''t shown any special interest, I was certain he paid far more attention to me than to other wolves. Even more than what a direct master-apprentice relationship warranted.


    Not just in the past year of solo sword training; even before that, I had sensed it. During dusk training sessions, he always tried to teach me more and was much stricter with me than with others. Since last year, I thought my doubts had been answered--it was just the talent he saw in me and our shared abilities as psychics, that nurturing feeling for a junior.


    But later, I overheard some young wolves gossiping in the cafeteria, mentioning that Master Polota confirmed Qana only agreed to share sword training duties a few years ago, and his time spent on it far exceeded the usual assignment. Other sword masters joked it was some kind of guilt for slacking off too long. I later verified that Qana started participating in dusk training exactly when I was nine--the year I began learning how to hold a sword.


    All these things together ruled out mere coincidence. For some reason unknown to me, Qana cared deeply about me.


    Yesterday, I didn''t think much about learning of Qana and Willow''s relationship, but this discovery added a new possible explanation to my list--Qana saw in me the child he never had the chance to have.


    I buried my face in my hands, wondering if voicing this thought would make me vanish from sheer embarrassment.


    But I think I knew, I always...


    "Don''t waste time if you''re awake. Breakfast starts in ten minutes." The sword master interrupted my thoughts. I looked up at him, and Qana was fastening his broadsword to his belt, then grabbed the cloak from the wall. "I''ll give you five minutes." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.


    I immediately threw the blanket aside, sprang out of bed, and rushed into the bathroom. I grabbed a toothbrush with one hand and turned on the faucet with the other, guiding enough water to start washing up.


    By vibrating the water at high frequencies to create cavitation, dirt detached from my fur--though I still didn''t dare use it on my teeth, fearing it might shatter them. Now I was skilled enough to separate the dirty water into a stream and direct it away, letting clean water continue to flow over me. And my clothes no longer retained any liquid, so I didn''t even need to undress, cleaning my outfit simultaneously, elevating the efficiency of my hygiene to the peak.


    It was almost like using supercritical fluid, but simpler and less labor-intensive. Maybe not everything needed to be done in a complex, elaborate way, no matter how cool it seemed--though that didn''t mean I''d stop trying to create supercritical water--for... science?


    When I finished dressing and stood before Qana, he raised an eyebrow and gave me an amused look.


    "Uh... what''s wrong?" I asked, shifting my weight to the other foot, feeling uneasy under the sword master''s imposing gaze.


    Qana lifted his hand and poked my chest twice. When I looked down, I saw the care label sticking out of my shirt collar.


    Suppressing the embarrassed heat creeping up my cheeks, I turned my short-sleeved crewneck shirt inside out, corrected it, and followed the sword master out of the room.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.1

    Lyre and Sand: "''Build the empire with wheat, not sand.'' It''s said that I dance amidst the flames, playing the lyre and singing."


    After meeting with Qana yesterday, we practiced with longswords until late into the night, which might have exhausted me too much. It wasn''t until I heard a distinct sound that I woke up. Opening my eyes, I saw the sword master threading his belt through the loops of his pants.


    I wanted to look away because it felt really weird, but I couldn''t. The sight was too overwhelming--it was a work of art.


    Qana''s short, pure white summer fur didn''t cover the sculpted, knotted muscles of his back, paired with huge, bulging biceps and deltoids, making him look like a magnificent marble statue.


    I heard the clink of metal as Qana buckled his belt, then he turned to face me, seemingly searching for something on the bed.


    For the love of Rationalism, turn your head away! Or at least close your mouth and lift your jaw!


    I saw my conscience standing nearby, tugging at my ear and yelling admonishments. But I also noticed he kept glancing at Qana--humph, hypocrite. Wipe your own drool first.


    But I could understand the struggle--his abs were so defined they showed through his fur, and his massive, rugged pectorals...


    I finally regained some rationality and snapped my head away. Staring any longer might have made the urban legend about nosebleeds from excitement a reality.


    Why does this keep happening? It''s so weird! Do other wolves with the same "preference" have this trouble, or am I an outlier even among the minority? Maybe I could ask Aether--can I ask Aether? I could ask Aether, right?Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    I helplessly scrubbed my face and snout fur with my hands, trying to wake up or something.


    Great, first Piqsirpoq--my half-brother--and now Qana. Though the temperamental, unsmiling sword master hadn''t shown any special interest, I was certain he paid far more attention to me than to other wolves. Even more than what a direct master-apprentice relationship warranted.


    Not just in the past year of solo sword training; even before that, I had sensed it. During dusk training sessions, he always tried to teach me more and was much stricter with me than with others. Since last year, I thought my doubts had been answered--it was just the talent he saw in me and our shared abilities as psychics, that nurturing feeling for a junior.


    But later, I overheard some young wolves gossiping in the cafeteria, mentioning that Master Polota confirmed Qana only agreed to share sword training duties a few years ago, and his time spent on it far exceeded the usual assignment. Other sword masters joked it was some kind of guilt for slacking off too long. I later verified that Qana started participating in dusk training exactly when I was nine--the year I began learning how to hold a sword.


    All these things together ruled out mere coincidence. For some reason unknown to me, Qana cared deeply about me.


    Yesterday, I didn''t think much about learning of Qana and Willow''s relationship, but this discovery added a new possible explanation to my list--Qana saw in me the child he never had the chance to have.


    I buried my face in my hands, wondering if voicing this thought would make me vanish from sheer embarrassment.


    But I think I knew, I always...


    "Don''t waste time if you''re awake. Breakfast starts in ten minutes." The sword master interrupted my thoughts. I looked up at him, and Qana was fastening his broadsword to his belt, then grabbed the cloak from the wall. "I''ll give you five minutes." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.


    I immediately threw the blanket aside, sprang out of bed, and rushed into the bathroom. I grabbed a toothbrush with one hand and turned on the faucet with the other, guiding enough water to start washing up.


    By vibrating the water at high frequencies to create cavitation, dirt detached from my fur--though I still didn''t dare use it on my teeth, fearing it might shatter them. Now I was skilled enough to separate the dirty water into a stream and direct it away, letting clean water continue to flow over me. And my clothes no longer retained any liquid, so I didn''t even need to undress, cleaning my outfit simultaneously, elevating the efficiency of my hygiene to the peak.


    It was almost like using supercritical fluid, but simpler and less labor-intensive. Maybe not everything needed to be done in a complex, elaborate way, no matter how cool it seemed--though that didn''t mean I''d stop trying to create supercritical water--for... science?


    When I finished dressing and stood before Qana, he raised an eyebrow and gave me an amused look.


    "Uh... what''s wrong?" I asked, shifting my weight to the other foot, feeling uneasy under the sword master''s imposing gaze.


    Qana lifted his hand and poked my chest twice. When I looked down, I saw the care label sticking out of my shirt collar.


    Suppressing the embarrassed heat creeping up my cheeks, I turned my short-sleeved crewneck shirt inside out, corrected it, and followed the sword master out of the room.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.1

    Lyre and Sand: "''Build the empire with wheat, not sand.'' It''s said that I dance amidst the flames, playing the lyre and singing."


    After meeting with Qana yesterday, we practiced with longswords until late into the night, which might have exhausted me too much. It wasn''t until I heard a distinct sound that I woke up. Opening my eyes, I saw the sword master threading his belt through the loops of his pants.


    I wanted to look away because it felt really weird, but I couldn''t. The sight was too overwhelming--it was a work of art.


    Qana''s short, pure white summer fur didn''t cover the sculpted, knotted muscles of his back, paired with huge, bulging biceps and deltoids, making him look like a magnificent marble statue.


    I heard the clink of metal as Qana buckled his belt, then he turned to face me, seemingly searching for something on the bed.


    For the love of Rationalism, turn your head away! Or at least close your mouth and lift your jaw!


    I saw my conscience standing nearby, tugging at my ear and yelling admonishments. But I also noticed he kept glancing at Qana--humph, hypocrite. Wipe your own drool first.


    But I could understand the struggle--his abs were so defined they showed through his fur, and his massive, rugged pectorals...


    I finally regained some rationality and snapped my head away. Staring any longer might have made the urban legend about nosebleeds from excitement a reality.


    Why does this keep happening? It''s so weird! Do other wolves with the same "preference" have this trouble, or am I an outlier even among the minority? Maybe I could ask Aether--can I ask Aether? I could ask Aether, right?


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I helplessly scrubbed my face and snout fur with my hands, trying to wake up or something.


    Great, first Piqsirpoq--my half-brother--and now Qana. Though the temperamental, unsmiling sword master hadn''t shown any special interest, I was certain he paid far more attention to me than to other wolves. Even more than what a direct master-apprentice relationship warranted.


    Not just in the past year of solo sword training; even before that, I had sensed it. During dusk training sessions, he always tried to teach me more and was much stricter with me than with others. Since last year, I thought my doubts had been answered--it was just the talent he saw in me and our shared abilities as psychics, that nurturing feeling for a junior.


    But later, I overheard some young wolves gossiping in the cafeteria, mentioning that Master Polota confirmed Qana only agreed to share sword training duties a few years ago, and his time spent on it far exceeded the usual assignment. Other sword masters joked it was some kind of guilt for slacking off too long. I later verified that Qana started participating in dusk training exactly when I was nine--the year I began learning how to hold a sword.


    All these things together ruled out mere coincidence. For some reason unknown to me, Qana cared deeply about me.


    Yesterday, I didn''t think much about learning of Qana and Willow''s relationship, but this discovery added a new possible explanation to my list--Qana saw in me the child he never had the chance to have.


    I buried my face in my hands, wondering if voicing this thought would make me vanish from sheer embarrassment.


    But I think I knew, I always...


    "Don''t waste time if you''re awake. Breakfast starts in ten minutes." The sword master interrupted my thoughts. I looked up at him, and Qana was fastening his broadsword to his belt, then grabbed the cloak from the wall. "I''ll give you five minutes." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.


    I immediately threw the blanket aside, sprang out of bed, and rushed into the bathroom. I grabbed a toothbrush with one hand and turned on the faucet with the other, guiding enough water to start washing up.


    By vibrating the water at high frequencies to create cavitation, dirt detached from my fur--though I still didn''t dare use it on my teeth, fearing it might shatter them. Now I was skilled enough to separate the dirty water into a stream and direct it away, letting clean water continue to flow over me. And my clothes no longer retained any liquid, so I didn''t even need to undress, cleaning my outfit simultaneously, elevating the efficiency of my hygiene to the peak.


    It was almost like using supercritical fluid, but simpler and less labor-intensive. Maybe not everything needed to be done in a complex, elaborate way, no matter how cool it seemed--though that didn''t mean I''d stop trying to create supercritical water--for... science?


    When I finished dressing and stood before Qana, he raised an eyebrow and gave me an amused look.


    "Uh... what''s wrong?" I asked, shifting my weight to the other foot, feeling uneasy under the sword master''s imposing gaze.


    Qana lifted his hand and poked my chest twice. When I looked down, I saw the care label sticking out of my shirt collar.


    Suppressing the embarrassed heat creeping up my cheeks, I turned my short-sleeved crewneck shirt inside out, corrected it, and followed the sword master out of the room.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.2

    Bacon and eggs, cheese sausages, and honey toast. I must be dead, and Rationalism has forgiven me--heaven does exist.


    "You know, being able to stuff all sorts of bizarre things into your mouth and swallow them is not mutually exclusive with appreciating fine food." I polished off half-melted Camembert cheese paired with a raw egg yolk--oh, the rich, intoxicating aroma rushing over my tongue--and then scooped up a large spoonful of acai yogurt.


    "Absolutely no criticism intended," Qana said, still watching me, taking a sip of milk from his mug. "I''m just worried you''ll eat too much and have indigestion later."


    The sword master''s reminder made me recall the issue. I sheepishly lowered my ears and scraped the remaining yogurt from the wooden bowl.


    The dining hall was filled with various aromas, some fresh and pleasant, others rich and hearty, creating a delightful atmosphere. The sizzling oil pans, whether frying or grilling, each had their distinct rhythm. It was a feast, a perfect symphony played by the orchestra of vibrant senses.


    Is this the world as experienced by the wolves of Mottle?


    I wish everyone could enjoy this happiness every day.


    "Why not just use a food synthesizer?" A very mood-killing question suddenly popped into my mind, but I felt it was necessary to ask.


    "There are too many psychics here," Qana chuckled, setting down his empty cup. "Do you think the weirdest meals a food synthesizer can make are the scariest things? Think again--use a little more creativity."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    I set the empty bowl aside and started drinking my oat bran soy milk to finish off my breakfast.


    "So, in places far from the Colosseo, ingredients are printed and then brought in for cooking, right?" Qana nodded in confirmation to my question.


    "Food synthesis technology is the foundation of not just the empire but the entire solar system''s primary industry. The Asteroid Belt Alliance cultivates fungi, the Ares Federation grows algae, the Lunar breeds yeast, and the Canine Empire, blessed by Gaia, has various high-yield crops for starch, protein, and oil production." I glanced around the dining hall, watching the different wolves enjoying their meals, listening to the clinking of their utensils and their cheerful conversations. "If it weren''t for... the serf class, would any of this be possible?"


    Qana''s deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, and he remained silent for a while, just watching me.


    "Yes," the sword master said, slowly enunciating the words, occasionally baring his canines. "After all, there was a time when that was true."


    "Then why..." Knowing that we weren''t living off the exploitation of the lower classes was a relief, but it raised a bigger question. "If it''s not necessary, why..."


    "Often, things that seem nonsensical are the most practical demonstrations of ''sense.''" Qana sighed, rubbing his temples. "Remember when I talked to you about purpose and meaning?" I nodded. "Without these things, it''s as if you don''t exist. And non-existence is terrifying; it drives insecure people to do even more terrifying things just to prove their existence."


    Qana''s answer was almost as good as no answer at all. I tilted my head, folding my right ear down for further explanation. But the sword master shook his head gently and pointed to my mug.


    "This isn''t something that can be explained in a few words. We''ll have a chance later," he said, scanning the dining hall quickly with his sharp eyes. "When there aren''t so many ''red eyes'' around." Qana grinned, baring his canines--an expression he usually wore before drawing his sword. Then he tapped my mirror circle with an almost imperceptible force to emphasize his point.


    The ripple was so faint it disappeared immediately, causing only a very small disturbance.


    I nodded slightly, lowering both ears in acceptance, and finished my drink.


    I could guess "red eyes" referred to psychics, but I didn''t understand why. Or why discussing these matters was an issue. As my knowledge grew, the fog shrouding the world only thickened, a phenomenon hard to grasp. Or perhaps this was the nature of truth?


    I set my empty mug down, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and signaled to Qana. After he nodded back at me, he got up and led me out of the dining hall.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.3

    The transport capsule to the Colosseo''s surface moved with a slow but steady rhythm. I could hardly feel any shaking, only the occasional metallic clanking sound as we passed each floor.


    "Master Ontara tried to influence me with some kind of wave," I said, glancing at the floor numbers slowly increasing on the capsule''s door--Level B368--seriously?


    "That bastard," Qana snorted in displeasure, though his statue-like expression and posture didn''t change. "Did you feel anything?"


    "No." I glanced down at the tips of my shoes. "The wave was neutralized by my mirror circle, but I memorized the waveform."


    "You neutralized a gamma-level psychic''s directional wave with just your mirror circle?" Qana looked at me, a hint of surprise on his face. "And he''s a fully trained psychic..." The Swordmaster continued to murmur. "I knew you were strong, but I didn''t expect this level." He stared at me in silence, as if lost in thought. "Show me," Qana finally said. "The waveform Ontara used."


    Qana extended his consciousness, enveloping me within it. I could feel a sort of shield at the outer edge of his consciousness--not like the mirror circle, but a more direct and forceful rejection.


    I figured Qana would explain it to me when the time was right, so I simply followed his previous teachings. I expanded my own consciousness, allowing our fields to merge through mutual erosion. Then, I recreated the wave that Ontara had used, watching it dissipate against the edge of Qana''s consciousness.


    "A confusion wave," Qana clicked his tongue. "Not explicitly forbidden, but still a rotten thing to do." He withdrew his consciousness, and I did the same, our merged field disappearing. "He must have let slip something he shouldn''t have, right? I know Ontara can never resist the chance to flaunt his knowledge." The swordmaster wrinkled his nose, revealing the tips of his canines.


    "The Archivist said, ''They almost did it,'' and I think he meant putting everyone into the Happiness Machine." I shivered at the memory of the discomfort when the wave was disrupted. "Who are ''they''?"


    Qana''s mouth twitched slightly, and he looked away.


    "The last people you need to know about," he said in a low voice, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword, a low growl rumbling from his throat. "If we''re lucky, you''ll never find out who ''they'' are."


    "Are psychics ranked?" I took his clear hint to change the subject. "What does ''gamma-level'' mean?"


    "It''s a rough classification, really, without much substance. But simply put, it reflects an psychic''s power," Qana answered, removing his hand from the sword hilt. "A gamma-level psychic can project directional waves beyond their consciousness field, which has a radius of at least five meters, and can dominate the collective consciousness of more than ten non-psychics within that field."


    "Oh." That was... pretty specific for something that was just a "rough classification."


    "Not counting the epsilon-level dragons, gamma-levels make up about five percent of all psychics. They''re considered elite." Qana glanced at me briefly before continuing. "So even though Ontara is a carnivore and not specialized in mental directional waves, you neutralized his influence by matching his waveform." His voice trailed off, and he fell silent again, leaving only the mechanical hum of the elevator.


    Clank, clank. Steady, slow. B304, B303.


    "So, what level are you?" I asked, partly to dispel the uneasy quiet, partly out of curiosity about how strong the swordmaster was. And I had just realized what Qana meant... I used to think that only the grey wolves could use powers. We, who were simply tasked with guarding the many legacies, only had certain traits as a result of carefully selected genes.


    "Just at alpha-level," Qana shrugged, seemingly indifferent. "My consciousness field, when fully expanded, can just cover the entire planet of Hermes, though back then, the Hermes base had just over a million staff members, not as many as now, and not beyond what I could suppress."


    "A planet-sized consciousness field?" I couldn''t hide the admiration in my voice as I looked up at the burly white wolf. "How many people are there like that?"


    "Nine, according to the current records," Qana turned to meet my gaze, his deep blue eyes seeming to look at something far away. "And I''m certain the tenth has already appeared." He slowly turned his head back to face forward. "It''s even possible that the first..." He mumbled something too soft for me to hear.


    "Oh." I could only scratch my ear in response, adjusting my stance.


    I seriously suspected Qana was like this because of Willow. He''d been noticeably different since arriving at the Colosseo, no longer suppressing his emotions. Was this what they called... hmm... the impact of emotions on rationality? Would I ever have the chance to experience this kind of brain-numbing situation?


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    For some reason, Aether''s yellow eyes flashed through my mind--I immediately shook my head vigorously.


    You''ve only known him for a day, and he didn''t even ask for your contact info or anything. Just because he flattered you, and now you''re swooning? That''s just pathetic.


    I sighed inwardly, having gained a preliminary understanding of how feelings could impair one''s thinking ability.


    But thinking of Aether reminded me of something else.


    "Aether mentioned that you and Master Willow were... close." I wasn''t sure how to say it without sounding like I was prying into Qana''s privacy, so I adopted the most submissive posture I could manage--any more, and I''d have to lie on the ground and expose my belly.


    "Willow and I ''are'' still close." Qana shot me a glare that made me shrink back, my tail tucking tighter. But at least he didn''t reach for his sword, which was a good sign--relatively speaking. "Damn that Nyx and their perfect memory." Qana spat. "I thought that after all these years, people would finally lose interest in gossiping about it."


    The swordmaster huffed, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture. Seeing Qana''s reaction made it even harder to bring up what I had planned to say.


    "What?" Qana asked impatiently, adjusting his cloak before crossing his arms again.


    "I''m... sorry," I scratched my ear, and Qana shot me a glance that made me tense up even more, so I sped up my words. "Because of my parents''... transgression, all the grey wolves'' opportunities were ruined. It was an immeasurable act of selfishness--in every way." I lowered my head, staring at the floor as my tail tip began to itch again. "I completely understand why all the other wolves hate me; they have every reason to. But despite being deeply affected... Qana, you... you..." I hadn''t realized how hard it would be to say this out loud. "You''ve been so kind to me." I gritted my teeth and forced myself to finish. My body was so tense that my limbs tingled, trembling uncontrollably.


    I am the most dangerous, most tainted taboo. Never before has a grey wolf committed such a selfish, vile act of desecration. As a member of the pack, I should know that the pack is the wolves, and the wolves are the pack. My mere existence is an affront to the pack...


    A large, firm hand rested on my shoulder, and Qana pulled me toward him. My shoulder pressed against his belt, and his dark cloak draped over my left side, warm and comforting. Qana''s steady breathing caused his broad chest to rise and fall, and his body heat slowly seeped into me, making me stop shaking.


    "Once, a very wise wolf told me," I had no idea Qana''s voice could be so gentle, "''No one should ever apologize for any trait they were born with. Because that is who we are, that is our true self--and we should always be proud of our true self.''"


    Qana''s powerful hand gripped my shoulder, and he took a deep breath before gently resting his chin on the top of my head, pressing my drooping ears flat.


    "Love doesn''t follow reason," Qana said with equal tenderness, and I could feel the vibrations from his throat. "I even believe that who we fall in love with, and who falls in love with us, isn''t something we can control." He chuckled softly. "So no matter who loves whom, it''s no one''s fault. If you ask me, there''s probably nothing more right than that."


    "But... but..." My throat was dry and sore. "But that doesn''t mean they should have..."


    My voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence. Qana waited patiently for a while, but the bitterness in my mouth only grew stronger.


    "When a system treats individuals unfairly, people tend to believe that the individual is at fault because it allows them to maintain their belief that following the rules will protect them from random misfortune. And when those who have been treated unfairly start demanding fair treatment, they''re perceived as asking for special privileges--this is utterly absurd. The first step to freeing everyone from an unfair system is recognizing that we are not wrong." Qana spoke in that gentle tone again, rubbing his chin lightly against my head. Perhaps it was a conversation he''d had with Willow, discussing their future... or perhaps it was an unspoken regret.


    "What does that mean?" I asked, sniffling.


    "One day, you''ll tell me the answer." He continued in a soft voice, and I caught a whiff of Qana''s scent from his cloak--something like... pine trees.


    "I hope one day I''ll find my own ''very wise wolf'' too," I murmured. I couldn''t help but wonder what Willow would think if she heard Qana describe her that way. Would she be offended, or take it as a compliment?


    "Oh, I know you will." Qana chuckled, patting my back before pulling his hand away and standing straight.


    "I wish I had your confidence..." I grumbled, scratching my ears as I tidied the fur on my head that had gotten messed up.


    "Psychic s are always drawn to each other," Qana said, looking up to check the floor level. "Maybe it''s because of their heightened sensitivity, allowing them to hear each other''s truest calls. Or perhaps the conditions that awaken these psychics make people with similar life experiences more able to understand each other. Then again, maybe, at the root of it, none of this makes any sense, and it never needed to."


    "So... which kind are you and Master Willow?" I boldly guessed. Qana only gets this talkative and emotionally expressive when it involves that female gray wolf from Wood.


    "Well... a little of all?" The swordmaster tilted his head, scratching his ear in reply.


    Noticing the slight flush at the tips of Qana''s ears, I couldn''t help but grin widely, though I managed to stifle my laughter.


    "That Nyx is a psychic who hasn''t awakened yet, in case you hadn''t noticed," Qana suddenly said, making me instinctively turn to look at him. "Of course, I''m talking about the older one, not that little demon." Qana shivered.


    "Oh..." I awkwardly shifted my weight, shoving my hands into my pockets and switching my weight to the other foot. "How do you know?"


    "You agreed that he''s your ''friend''," Qana teased. "That''s never happened before, so it immediately made me suspicious. I was worried our innocent and naive Richter might be charmed into a dangerous, colorful jungle without realizing it, so I checked with a pulse wave." He grinned mischievously at me, nudging my shoulder with his elbow.


    Blood rushed to my ears so fast it felt like they might catch fire. I turned my head away, aiming a punch at Qana''s side, which only made him laugh harder.


    "Back by midnight, no staying over!" Qana turned to face me, raising a finger sternly. I was pretty sure my ears were now steaming. "You know what they say about black wolves."


    "Uh... hard to communicate?" I tilted my head in confusion.


    "That''s a shortcoming," Qana gave me a mysterious smile, then turned back to glance at the elevator''s floor indicator. "I''m talking about what they''re long on."


    I glanced at the floor display too, pondering what Qana meant. When I finally understood, I angrily punched him again, which only made the swordmaster laugh even harder.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.4

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    <div>

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.6

    "Damn Venetian bastards!" Zelus swore. "Backstabbing, treacherous dogs..."


    "We''ve discussed the issue of racial slurs before," Geras said calmly, his yellow eyes casting a sideways glance at Zelus, who immediately fell silent.


    "Sorry," Charon said, scratching his ear. "I''ve got business to attend to."


    "Ottoman cannons, fire. Accuracy and damage checks--roll two d20s." Aether manipulated the interface, and two marble-white twenty-sided dice rolled from the edge of the map. They both landed on twenty.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me..." Zelus groaned, tugging at the fur on the sides of his face. He looked like he was about to lose it again, but another glance at Geras made him clamp his mouth shut.


    "The cannonball strikes the weakest point of the wall with perfect accuracy. With a deafening crash, Theodosian Walls, which had protected the city for a thousand years, finally crumbles. And whether out of bravery--or foolishness--Constantine XI, who was personally commanding from the wall, vanishes in a cloud of dust. This officially marks the end of the Roman Empire."


    Zelus'' fur was disheveled from his frantic scratching. His expression was hollow as he listened to the conclusion, his ears drooping so low they were almost flat against his head.


    "In the great fire, the City of World''s Desire falls. The once-glorious achievements are now scattered ashes. But the ashes still retain some heat, and if they land in the right place, the flames will one day reignite. And this, this is the legacy of the Empire, the fire that will soon illuminate the new world--look forward to it next summer in the ''Dawn of the Renaissance'' expansion, exclusive to the Steam platform!"


    "Well, you know what they say about Paradox Interactive," Geras remarked, tilting his head. "Endless expansions."


    A few of the Nyx laughed, starting to pack up, while Zelus got up and trudged to the bathroom, looking defeated.


    "Uh..." I scratched my ear and looked at the other black wolves, seeking their input. "Is he... crying?"Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Zelus is a very emotional person," Geras replied, sliding his finger across his terminal. "Though... he''s not very restrained, but he''s always very invested." He raised an eyebrow and tapped a few more times on his terminal. "If you''ll excuse me."


    After Geras left the room, Charon also took his empty glass and bowl to the sink to wash.


    "Hey, I hope you weren''t too bored," Aether said softly, crouching down beside me, trying to pick up the now-sleeping Momus. The wolf pup squirmed a bit, flicking his tail over mine, tickling me.


    "Not at all," I replied, gently supporting Momus'' lower half to help Aether lift the pup onto the bed. "I enjoyed the historical reenactment--Ottoman cannons killing Constantine XI? That''s so cool, like the proletarian revolution happening four hundred years early."


    Aether laughed at that. After I mentioned that it was time for me to go, the black wolf offered to walk me out.


    "I think he likes you," Aether said as I put on my shoes at the entrance. I followed his gaze to Momus, who was curled up on the bed. "He''s always wanted... a friend who''s more like him."


    "Oh." I looked back at Aether, meeting his yellow eyes. "I think we could... you know..." I scratched my ear. "...help each other out."


    Aether nodded and escorted me to the hallway.


    "By the way," he said, operating his terminal, "we should exchange contact information."


    "Oh, sure." I felt my tail wag slightly and couldn''t help the smile creeping onto my face.


    "This is my account." He held his terminal interface toward me, turning his head to the side. I noticed a faint blush at the tips of his ears.


    "Actually, I..." I hesitated, scratching the back of my head as I pulled out my own terminal. "I don''t know how to use it."


    "Huh?" He tilted his head, taking my terminal and fiddling with it. "You''re even using the default profile picture? Have you really never used the communication function?"


    "I..." I lowered my head, feeling a tight pressure in my chest. "...I never had the chance."


    "Oh, sorry." Aether''s ears drooped as he apologized, realizing he''d said something wrong.


    "It''s okay," I waved my hand to show I didn''t mind. "I''m used to it."


    "All done." He handed the terminal back to me. "Now we can contact each other directly."


    "Thank you." I slid the terminal back into the strap on my arm, glancing at the nearby transport pod. "I''ll just..." I gestured upward.


    "Right. Goodnight." Aether bowed to me, and I returned the gesture before he turned and left.


    What an interesting experience... The multiplayer mode of Imperator: Rome was much more engaging than I''d expected.


    Does this mean that simply imagining things without real experience only leads to distorted results? If I ever get the chance...


    "Hey," Aether''s voice caught my attention, and I turned to see him standing a short distance away. "You should smile more." The black wolf''s yellow eyes met mine, the blush on his ears now visible through the thinner patches of fur. "I think it looks really good."


    "Oh." His words made me smile involuntarily, my tail wagging gently, and Aether responded in kind. "I''ll try." I bowed to him once more. "Goodnight, Aether."


    "You too, Richter." After he left, I kept watching the spot where he''d disappeared until the transport pod arrived.


    As the pod carried me upward, I stared at the steadily increasing numbers above the door, lightly clutching the fur on my left chest along with my shirt. My heart pounded, sending a wave of chaotic, unfamiliar emotions through my veins, leaving my limbs tingling and my head light. But the smile on my face, that was something certain, something sure.


    I think... I could get used to this feeling.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 4 - Lyre and Sand 4.6

    "Damn Venetian bastards!" Zelus swore. "Backstabbing, treacherous dogs..."


    "We''ve discussed the issue of racial slurs before," Geras said calmly, his yellow eyes casting a sideways glance at Zelus, who immediately fell silent.


    "Sorry," Charon said, scratching his ear. "I''ve got business to attend to."


    "Ottoman cannons, fire. Accuracy and damage checks--roll two d20s." Aether manipulated the interface, and two marble-white twenty-sided dice rolled from the edge of the map. They both landed on twenty.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me..." Zelus groaned, tugging at the fur on the sides of his face. He looked like he was about to lose it again, but another glance at Geras made him clamp his mouth shut.


    "The cannonball strikes the weakest point of the wall with perfect accuracy. With a deafening crash, Theodosian Walls, which had protected the city for a thousand years, finally crumbles. And whether out of bravery--or foolishness--Constantine XI, who was personally commanding from the wall, vanishes in a cloud of dust. This officially marks the end of the Roman Empire."


    Zelus'' fur was disheveled from his frantic scratching. His expression was hollow as he listened to the conclusion, his ears drooping so low they were almost flat against his head.


    "In the great fire, the City of World''s Desire falls. The once-glorious achievements are now scattered ashes. But the ashes still retain some heat, and if they land in the right place, the flames will one day reignite. And this, this is the legacy of the Empire, the fire that will soon illuminate the new world--look forward to it next summer in the ''Dawn of the Renaissance'' expansion, exclusive to the Steam platform!"


    "Well, you know what they say about Paradox Interactive," Geras remarked, tilting his head. "Endless expansions."


    A few of the Nyx laughed, starting to pack up, while Zelus got up and trudged to the bathroom, looking defeated.


    "Uh..." I scratched my ear and looked at the other black wolves, seeking their input. "Is he... crying?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Zelus is a very emotional person," Geras replied, sliding his finger across his terminal. "Though... he''s not very restrained, but he''s always very invested." He raised an eyebrow and tapped a few more times on his terminal. "If you''ll excuse me."


    After Geras left the room, Charon also took his empty glass and bowl to the sink to wash.


    "Hey, I hope you weren''t too bored," Aether said softly, crouching down beside me, trying to pick up the now-sleeping Momus. The wolf pup squirmed a bit, flicking his tail over mine, tickling me.


    "Not at all," I replied, gently supporting Momus'' lower half to help Aether lift the pup onto the bed. "I enjoyed the historical reenactment--Ottoman cannons killing Constantine XI? That''s so cool, like the proletarian revolution happening four hundred years early."


    Aether laughed at that. After I mentioned that it was time for me to go, the black wolf offered to walk me out.


    "I think he likes you," Aether said as I put on my shoes at the entrance. I followed his gaze to Momus, who was curled up on the bed. "He''s always wanted... a friend who''s more like him."


    "Oh." I looked back at Aether, meeting his yellow eyes. "I think we could... you know..." I scratched my ear. "...help each other out."


    Aether nodded and escorted me to the hallway.


    "By the way," he said, operating his terminal, "we should exchange contact information."


    "Oh, sure." I felt my tail wag slightly and couldn''t help the smile creeping onto my face.


    "This is my account." He held his terminal interface toward me, turning his head to the side. I noticed a faint blush at the tips of his ears.


    "Actually, I..." I hesitated, scratching the back of my head as I pulled out my own terminal. "I don''t know how to use it."


    "Huh?" He tilted his head, taking my terminal and fiddling with it. "You''re even using the default profile picture? Have you really never used the communication function?"


    "I..." I lowered my head, feeling a tight pressure in my chest. "...I never had the chance."


    "Oh, sorry." Aether''s ears drooped as he apologized, realizing he''d said something wrong.


    "It''s okay," I waved my hand to show I didn''t mind. "I''m used to it."


    "All done." He handed the terminal back to me. "Now we can contact each other directly."


    "Thank you." I slid the terminal back into the strap on my arm, glancing at the nearby transport pod. "I''ll just..." I gestured upward.


    "Right. Goodnight." Aether bowed to me, and I returned the gesture before he turned and left.


    What an interesting experience... The multiplayer mode of Imperator: Rome was much more engaging than I''d expected.


    Does this mean that simply imagining things without real experience only leads to distorted results? If I ever get the chance...


    "Hey," Aether''s voice caught my attention, and I turned to see him standing a short distance away. "You should smile more." The black wolf''s yellow eyes met mine, the blush on his ears now visible through the thinner patches of fur. "I think it looks really good."


    "Oh." His words made me smile involuntarily, my tail wagging gently, and Aether responded in kind. "I''ll try." I bowed to him once more. "Goodnight, Aether."


    "You too, Richter." After he left, I kept watching the spot where he''d disappeared until the transport pod arrived.


    As the pod carried me upward, I stared at the steadily increasing numbers above the door, lightly clutching the fur on my left chest along with my shirt. My heart pounded, sending a wave of chaotic, unfamiliar emotions through my veins, leaving my limbs tingling and my head light. But the smile on my face, that was something certain, something sure.


    I think... I could get used to this feeling.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - Hope



 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 5 - Roses and Violets 5.1

    Roses and Violets: Blood is red, the sky is purple.


    "Did you exchange contact information?" Qana spread butter on his pancakes, then drizzled honey on top.


    "Yeah." I tossed a handful of blueberries into my mouth, mumbling through the fruit, feeling my ears droop.


    "What do you two talk about?" Qana cut his pancakes with a motion as fluid as a sword strike, dividing the entire stack into two perfect halves without a single crumb falling.


    "I''m not telling you." I crunched on the raspberries, the tiny nuts* cracking between my teeth.


    "Rebellious phase," Qana remarked as he speared half a pancake with his fork and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Have you exchanged private photos yet?"


    "What''s a private photo?" I sniffed at the blackcurrants, cautiously trying one.


    "Well..." Qana''s right ear twitched. "Just make sure you never send them first."


    "Alright... I guess?" I shrugged, popping the last blackberry into my mouth--Rationalism, if I ever got sick of the food synthesizer, what would I do?


    "Has he invited you to the ball?" Qana asked after finishing the other half of his pancakes.


    "A ball?" My ears definitely didn''t twitch just now.


    "Yeah, the big crisis in paradise." Qana licked the honey off his knife, speaking in a mocking tone.


    "I''m starting to miss the perpetually grumpy you." I downed the rest of my oatmeal soy milk, grumbling softly.


    "Careful what you wish for." Qana pointed his knife at me, one side of his mouth curling up to reveal a canine tooth.


    I huffed, leaning back in my chair as I wiped my mouth with a napkin.


    "A grand ball to close the preliminaries, open to everyone." Qana took a sip from his mug, tilting his head as he reached for the sugar jar. "Note, I said everyone." He shook the glass jar, poured out some brown sugar, and stirred it with a teaspoon. "Almost every important faction from Gaia and the Lunar will be attending, not just the representatives invited to watch the competition--like the Lunar Government and the Nine Archdukes'' delegations."


    "Pimping..." I muttered under my breath. Qana raised an eyebrow, his mug frozen just before his lips, but he didn''t say anything.


    "Anyway..." He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea before continuing. "This is one of the few events where young male and female wolves are allowed to attend together, so it''s an important... social opportunity for members of each faction." Qana set his empty mug down on the table. "I think you understand."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Pimping," I repeated, still convinced of my point.


    "You''re too cynical." Qana grinned, showing more teeth this time. "Not everyone enjoys the same ''privilege'' as you."


    "Seriously?" I tilted my head, giving the sword master a helpless shrug, palms up. "Enjoy?" To emphasize my point, I slowly tilted my head the other way, folding down one ear. "Privilege?"


    "Don''t take out your frustration on me," Qana waved a hand dismissively. "He might just not have invited you yet."


    "For Rationalism''s sake, I''m not!" I bared my canines in defense. "And it''s your dumb comments that are making me angry!"


    "You''ve been bristling since I first mentioned the ball." Qana pointed out matter-of-factly.


    I sighed, relaxing my body and smoothing down my fur.


    "And you could always invite him. Is this about shy modesty or something to do with self-identity?" Qana raised an eyebrow at me. "Like a certain role you''re playing?"


    "I''d rather scour the internet for a bunch of unreliable and dubious anonymous advice than discuss this with you." I pressed my hands against my ears and laid my head on the table.


    "Your loss." Qana made a "suit yourself" gesture. "Not everyone is as open-minded as I am."


    I wrapped my arms around my head, letting out a low growl.


    "Do you think I should invite him?" I finally asked, my throat vibrating in resonance with the wooden table.


    "I can''t see any reason not to," Qana replied.


    "But I don''t want to go to the ball... It sounds like a big social event full of people." I muttered. "I hate big social events full of people."


    "Then don''t go." Qana responded, as if it was the simplest thing in the world--well, wasn''t it?


    "But what if Aether''s waiting for me to invite him?" I sat up from the table, rubbing my eyes.


    "Here''s some advice from someone who''s been there," Qana folded his hands together, resting his arms on the edge of the table. "Be clear about your feelings and listen to his. Honesty is almost always the best strategy." Qana had switched to that gentle tone again. "You two are psychics, this should be a lot easier."


    I exhaled through my nose, nodding as I leaned back in my chair. A thought suddenly occurred to me.


    "Is that what you did?" I asked Qana quietly.


    "Yes." He nodded. "I was also fortunate to have a wise and understanding wolf willing to listen to my feelings."


    That was so sappy it was almost gross. I never would have guessed Master Willow would appreciate that kind of wolf. But seriously, how did they even get together in the first place? I never thought I was the gossiping type.


    I shook my head, forcing myself to focus and not get lost in random thoughts. This was time-sensitive; I had to decide what to do.


    I propped my elbows on the table, clasping my hands together as I rested my chin on my knuckles, weighing the pros and cons of each option.


    Just then, as if it were some kind of omen, the automatic door slid open, and three wolves from the Nyx faction walked in. They chatted happily with each other, their white teeth always gleaming against their jet-black fur, and I could even see the laughter in those yellow eyes.


    That... deep laughter.


    "I''ll be back before midnight." I stood up, making my decision.


    "In fact," Qana smiled as he looked into my eyes. "I''ll be sleeping in the room attached to the conference room tonight." His smile widened. "Big days are always busy, you know what I mean?"


    "No idea." My ears definitely didn''t perk up, and they definitely weren''t getting warm.


    "After watching him for a month, I think I can safely say he''s a decent guy." Qana shrugged. "Probably won''t do anything too inappropriate."


    "I still don''t know what you''re talking about." I tucked my tail and turned to leave, but Qana gently pulled me back by the collar.


    "But that doesn''t mean I won''t worry." Qana said quietly, and I felt his consciousness circle suddenly expand, enveloping us both and setting up a barrier. "If anything happens, contact me immediately, okay?"


    He demonstrated a directional wave, and I recognized the pattern of Qana''s pulse, understanding that it was a psychic communication signal for long-distance contact. I nodded, indicating I understood.


    "I''ll show up right away and skin him alive." He gave me a smile that showed both his canines--kind of scary.


    "Not funny." I grumbled, gently pushing him away. "You''re being weird."


    Qana spread his hands, not denying it.


    "Just a reminder, don''t mention anything related to psychic abilities. Unlike others, the Nyx faction remembers anything to do with psychics very clearly--they obviously take their duties very seriously. If you trigger his ''awakening,'' it could cause unnecessary trouble." He released the consciousness circle.


    "Oh..." I murmured. Qana had never clearly explained what conditions were required for a psychic to awaken, or why I had been able to use Domination, a relatively advanced psychic power, since I could remember.


    "Alright, alright, enough lecturing. Otherwise, you''ll lose the ''experience'' of it all." Qana stood up, patting my arm. "I trust you can take care of yourself. Like I said before, just be an ignorant little pup for now." He adjusted his clothes and sword, glancing around the room. "Now go and cause some trouble."


    I nodded a farewell to the master, heading toward the automatic door to leave the dining hall. Meanwhile, I was mulling over the wording of the ball invitation, lightly swaying my tail.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 5 - Roses and Violets 5.2

    I wandered aimlessly, pacing back and forth in a deserted corridor. The marble statues on either side struck various incomprehensible poses, their expressions resembling someone who had been constipated for seven days.


    "...''Sincerely''? Really? Wouldn''t that sound too weird?" I sought advice from Justitia Snow, but the pure white wolf''s reply was as unhelpful as his reign.


    People often said that every emperor of Snow was nothing more than a simple-minded brute, so maybe I should consult someone else.


    "I think you''d appreciate a more logical, meticulous approach." Erebus Nyx gazed down at me with wise, penetrating eyes. "And it has nothing to do with you being a Nyx, of course. No stereotypes involved!" His expression didn''t seem to buy my excuse. "Ah, forget it, I didn''t say anything!"


    Deciding not to continue arguing with wolves clearly out of touch with the younger generation''s social circles, I resumed my little adventure, wandering aimlessly through the area.


    Entering a certain exhibition hall, I immediately recognized the enormous symbol of the Tree of Life, intricately carved to dominate the entire ceiling space.


    The trunk, branches, pathways, and radiating roots were all inscribed with the Latin names of various taxonomic groups. I couldn''t pronounce any of them, but pretending to understand was still cool. Something like this: "Canis lupus," I recited in an imagined scholarly tone, secretly relishing the exaggerated satisfaction.


    The most striking exhibit, though, was the massive skeletal structure hanging from the ceiling--a type of fish, perhaps? With some curiosity, I moved closer, passing by a few yellowed ancient books left open and something that resembled... teeth.


    Interesting. Were fish really that big back in the day?


    When I stood directly beneath the massive skeleton, I noticed something unusual--it wasn''t a fish. What I had mistaken for fins were actually distinctly homologous structures of limb bones. And that looked like a scapula.


    Moreover, the vertebrae''s segmentation pattern, with fused sections... I counted them and confirmed that it was a mammal, some kind of mammal I had never seen or even heard of.


    Even though only the bones remained, standing this close, I could still sense the majesty and grandeur of the creature when it was alive. I reached out my hand, opened my consciousness, and felt the lingering memories within, listening to the deep songs that once roamed the endless depths of the ocean. For a moment, I was stunned by the ancient chanting--a voice that spoke directly to the soul, resonating in the deepest hollow within.


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    Was this one of our common ancestors, a member of a lineage that has long disappeared in the tides of evolution? Why have I never encountered knowledge of such a magnificent creature? How much have I overlooked simply because of my ignorance? Could it be that this specimen is so ancient that it was lost in the sea of information? But since it''s preserved here, it must mean...


    "Are you lost?" A voice behind me startled me, breaking my train of thought. I quickly realized that the speaker had concealed his presence from my consciousness circle''s detection.


    Trying to appear composed, I turned around and saw a pure gray wolf from the Gray faction, staring at me expressionlessly, his gray eyes appearing particularly cold.


    Once my mirror circle neutralized the interfering wave pattern, I understood why I hadn''t sensed him.


    "Uh..." I scratched the back of my head, trying to put on my most innocent expression. "I was looking for the banquet hall." I hoped my lie wouldn''t be too obvious. "Trying to secure a good spot before the ball starts."


    "You''re way off from where you need to be." He moved past me, bringing with him a sense of oppressive pressure. "Let me show you the way."


    "Thank you so much!" I said in a respectful tone, adopting a submissive posture.


    But as the gray wolf placed his hand on my shoulder to guide me out of the exhibition hall, I detected a cold, strange sensation.


    Probing wave! It was an active probe, using an consciousness field to envelop the target and gather information. Unlike the directional wave, it couldn''t just be neutralized.


    I quickly retracted my consciousness field, hiding myself while continuing to walk as normally as possible. Fortunately, Qana had made me practice this many times.


    "You know the ball isn''t open for entry yet, right?" He said in a flat tone.


    "Oh, but I thought maybe I could queue up?" I grinned foolishly, forcing myself to ignore the icy sensation flowing down my spine, pooling at the tip of my tail. I was almost trembling.


    "Don''t be silly, the queue doesn''t open until an hour before the ball." The cold sensation faded as the gray wolf seemed to relax a little, patting my shoulder. It seemed he hadn''t found anything.


    "Worth a try?" I tilted my head in response.


    "Opportunities to act foolishly should be seized while you''re young." He shrugged, setting the route on my terminal, then stood at the hall''s entrance, watching me leave.


    It wasn''t until I turned the corner that the heavy pressure from those gray eyes disappeared. I immediately leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.


    That cold sensation... It was like mercury, seeping deep into my body, trying to strip my soul away. But I had hidden myself too well; he couldn''t reach me.


    It seemed I had unwittingly wandered into some kind of restricted area, glimpsing a secret that the psychics didn''t like to share.


    But why was it displayed so openly if they didn''t want everyone to see it? It probably meant that I had subconsciously bypassed some sort of defense mechanism.


    But I was certain that sending out a probing wave now would be a very foolish decision, so I immediately headed in the direction away from that exhibition hall.


    After this unexpected event, I decided to end my little adventure and take the opportunity to act foolishly.


    I removed the terminal from the strap on my arm, opened the five-thousand-word draft of my invitation, and hit send.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 5 - Roses and Violets 5.3

    "I must say, I''m flattered." Aether showed me his terminal screen, where my invitation had filled the entire display with densely packed text.


    Grabbing my ear, I felt the blood rush to my face and averted my gaze slightly.


    "Also, you look great in black," he said earnestly, putting away his terminal. "You should put more effort into your wardrobe."


    The warmth of the blood in my face intensified. I cleared my throat, adjusting my tie and the cufflinks on my suit jacket. I doubted I''d ever get used to being the subject of compliments.


    "You too," I replied sincerely, meeting Aether''s eyes. "You look really good in white."


    I wasn''t trying to flatter him; I was just stating the truth. Aether''s well-fitted white shirt perfectly highlighted his mysterious, alluring figure with every movement. He wasn''t wearing a tie or any purely decorative accessories. The open collar, with the top button left undone, and the jacket casually draped over his arm gave him a somewhat... relaxed yet elegant vibe.


    My gaze wandered to his tail behind him, slowly swaying with a subtle curve, almost like... a flowing darkness.


    "Hurry up!" Momus suddenly grabbed my tail from behind, tugging at it a few times.


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    "Oh, sorry." I patted pup on the head to soothe him before turning back to Aether. "Where''s your pack?"


    "They went ahead," Aether said. "Except for Zelus, of course. He''s never been a fan of balls." He shrugged. "Though I always thought you didn''t like them either."


    "Oh," I replied awkwardly. "Well, it''s always good to experience new things." So that''s why he didn''t invite me? Why didn''t I think of that?


    The wolf cub tugged at my tail again but was stopped by a low growl from Aether. I gestured soothingly to both, letting them know I wasn''t offended.


    As we walked toward the ballroom, I found myself between the two Nyxes. "You''re going to spoil him," Aether murmured, while the wolf cub turned his head away, one hand still gripping my tail.


    "Hmm..." I glanced at the wolf cub, who stubbornly refused to meet his brother''s gaze. "Let''s call it my compensatory behavior." I ruffled Momus''s head, but he still wouldn''t look back.


    "Are you not on good terms with Piqsirpoq?" Aether asked quietly.


    "I suppose you could say there''s ''a lot of room for improvement,''" I murmured in response. "If I could seize the chance to talk more, it might help... but as you know, that''s not so easy." One doesn''t need the Nyxes'' powerful logic to understand what I meant. "So, I guess I''m a bit envious of you two, being able to..." I couldn''t finish the sentence, unsure how to describe this bond or relationship--something I might never fully comprehend.


    Am I incapable of treating others with kindness? After being so accustomed to being ignored, can I still connect with others genuinely? To avoid inevitable disappointment and failure, I''ve stopped caring about anything. After all this time, is it even possible for me to feel anything deeply? Do I have a chance to learn how to... love?


    How can I know I''m not just clumsily imitating something I''ll never truly understand?


    I felt Momus gently squeeze my tail, and I looked down at him. The wolf cub''s ears and gaze were lowered, staring at the floor. I glanced back at Aether; he sighed softly, his ears drooping slightly, his tail giving a small, brief wag. Momus kept staring at the ground, but I noticed his eyes quickly flicked to Aether and then back. The little pup began wagging his tail in sync with his brother''s rhythm, and his grip on my tail tightened a bit more.


    Maybe... there''s nothing wrong with imitation. Imitation is a start, and if we''re willing to move forward with determination, facing all obstacles honestly, perhaps we''ll each find our own answers at the end.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 5 - Roses and Violets 5.4

    The ballroom queue moved quickly, so quickly that we were ushered inside before I even had a chance to properly study the paintings lining the hallway.


    Passing through the narrow entrance hall illuminated by flickering orange flames, we stepped into an opulent, vast space that felt like another dimension entirely--calling this place a hall would be a gross understatement.


    The ceiling towered about seven stories high, adorned with frescoes and reliefs that exuded a solemn atmosphere. Though the distance made it impossible to discern their themes, the frescoes still hinted at something grand. Meanwhile, intricate flowing lines carved into the massive stone columns resembled some kind of living vine, entangled and intertwined, showcasing the beauty of the craftsmanship as they stretched from the floor up to the ceiling.


    At the center of the ceiling was a giant, inverted tree, with the world-famous Tarn¨®w Crystal embedded in the heart of its canopy. The massive, transparent crystal boasted an uncountable number of tiny facets, casting light onto the prism assemblies that formed the tree''s leaves, filling the entire hall with a soft, warm yellow glow.


    I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the dazzling light. I had read about it before--Tarn¨®w Crystal was a marvel of science and art, a masterpiece that no one had ever been able to replicate. And it was said that if you stared directly into the crystal''s light, you might see something... staring back.


    The mezzanine level''s protruding balconies resembled hidden caves, clearly reserved for the most distinguished guests, offering them a secluded space to engage in transactions and negotiations befitting their status.


    As for the floor beneath our feet, it was no less impressive than the rest of the structure.


    It was an enormous mandala made of fine marble sand in the seven distinct faction colors, fixed in place by a transparent polymer material. The seven colors swirled around the outer edge, forming a chaotic ring, followed by parallel lines radiating out from the center, evenly spaced and aligned. However, once within the projection of the massive tree''s canopy, the lines twisted and spiraled like a vortex, converging toward the center.


    At the vortex''s heart was the emblem of the imperial flagship--the Emperor--of the Great Gray Wolf House, encircled by nine other emblems, each representing the flagship of one of the nine major families.


    The Hadrian''s Wall structure was mostly underground, and I had seen large facilities before, but this was... astonishing.


    "The Mottle faction claims that the ballroom of the Colosseo is one of their finest achievements, and that naming it in any way would diminish its value," Aether said, surveying the space. "But most people just call it the ''Tree Hall.''"


    I think the reason was obvious.


    I spent a bit more time marveling at this masterpiece, feeling a twinge of envy for the hands and minds capable of creating such beauty. I couldn''t help but wonder what it would look like if Snow had designed it--perhaps a throne made from the weapons of defeated enemies?


    Even Momus had fallen silent, his eyes wide as he stared at the crystal embedded in the great tree.


    Suddenly, a furious barking broke through all the hushed conversations and soft music. Many wolves--and other canines--in the hall perked up an ear, looking toward a particular balcony on the second floor.


    After a brief but intense argument, followed by the sounds of objects clattering and glass shattering, a predominantly black and brown canine, dressed in a perfectly tailored black mandarin-collar suit, stormed out of the hall with an expression of utter displeasure. He bared his teeth at anyone who dared to get in his way.


    Two other canines, dressed similarly and of the same breed, hurried after him with lowered ears and tucked tails, constantly apologizing to everyone they passed. As they brushed past us, I noticed that each of them wore a small rectangular badge on their collars, featuring vertical black, red, and yellow stripes.


    As I watched the three canines leave the hall, countless questions swirled in my mind, including curiosity about the unfamiliar style of their suits. Before I could ask Aether, a loud, smug laugh drew my attention--and it made my fur stand on end.


    Coming from the same direction as the brown-furred canines, a very tall canine slowly approached, casting a disdainful gaze at everyone who met his eyes.


    He was... shining. His golden-yellow fur looked as though it had been meticulously groomed, soft and radiant, gleaming with both luster and resilience. But his ears... It was the first time I had ever seen floppy ears on a canine--so, this was a dog?


    His dark gray suit was of a style occasionally seen in the Senate, different from the mandarin-collar suits of the previous three. The golden dog also wore a deep blue tie, secured with a gold tie clip, and a light blue pocket square that shimmered with the sheen of silk. Although he, too, wore a rectangular badge on his collar, the design differed from that of the three canines earlier--one side featured narrow red and white stripes, while the other displayed a white star on a blue field.


    Only after these canines had left the hall did the conversations and music gradually resume.


    "Who was that?" I was certain that the murmurs around us were asking the same question, but I preferred to find a reliable source of information.


    "The three German Shepherds were the Archduke of Germany, the Marquess of Berlin, and the Count of Brandenburg," Aether explained, immediately understanding from my gaze that this information meant little to me. "Father and sons," he added. "The head of the German house rules the Grand Duchy of Germany, which includes most of Western and Southern Europe, as well as Greenland."


    "I paid attention in geography class," I muttered. "And the other one... the floppy-eared dog?" I shuddered at the thought.


    "A Golden Retriever, one of the floppy-eared dogs--there are many of them," Aether said, as if it were no big deal. "The Archduke of Golden isn''t known for being easy to get along with, and he''s been eyeing the Grand Duchy of Germany''s Greenland for some time." Aether scanned the hall, then pointed to one of the mezzanine balconies. "It''s said that the current Archduke of Australia once got into a huge fight with the then-newly crowned Archduke of Golden here in the Tree Hall, many years ago."


    I glanced at a few maned wolves on the upper levels, their faces serious as they looked toward the entrance, whispering among themselves.


    "So, is it territorial tension?" I asked Aether, noticing the subtle stiffness in the black wolf''s posture and how he quickly averted his gaze.


    "Oh, I know this one!" Momus piped up, seeming pleased to have a chance to join the conversation. " Sixteen years ago, the Archduke of Germany and the Archduke of Golden had a--"


    "Momus!" Aether barked in a tone I hadn''t expected him to use, and the young wolf immediately fell silent, his ears drooping as he whimpered softly.


    "Uh..." I was startled too, unsure what had just happened, but I tried to ease the tension. "It looks like there''s a refreshment table over there." I gestured toward the long table near the band.


    I didn''t actually want anything to drink, so I simply circled the table a few times, studying the various drinks and snacks.


    I noticed Aether had moved to the opposite end of the table, away from me, where he grabbed Momus by the scruff of the neck, bringing his muzzle close to the young wolf''s ear, whispering something with a serious expression.


    Well, I can only say that socializing is a challenging endeavor. Is it because I don''t understand all the subtle cues or changes in atmosphere that I keep finding myself in these situations? Or would I, if I had Nyx''s perfect memory, be aware of all the taboo topics and hypersensitive?


    I''m not sure I want to know the answer.


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    "Hey, hey, it''s Krotra!"


    The faint whispers caught my attention, and I swiveled my ears toward the sound.


    "Didn''t you get her account last time? What happened after that?" one voice teased.


    "She said, ''It''s not you, it''s me.'' What do you think?" came the frustrated and annoyed reply.


    "Tough luck, man." The sound of laughter, laced with schadenfreude, followed.


    I slowly swiveled my ears back, not wanting to eavesdrop on someone else''s private conversation. "Important social event," right?


    "Ugh, I really wish we could meet more often. Being separated by distance and only seeing each other every four years is torture!" A loud voice near the refreshment table drew my attention--it was one of the Woods.


    "Keep it down! This is a public place; what you''re saying is indecent!" I could feel his friend''s worried glance in my direction.


    "Like you''re not thinking the same thing," the loud-mouthed Wood retorted, seemingly unconcerned about sharing his thoughts with everyone around.


    "But I wouldn''t say it in public. That''s the key difference!" I had to admit his friend had a point.


    "Alright, alright, I was just saying! Besides, we''ll be twenty-two next year, and the ban won''t apply to us anymore." The loud-mouthed Wood poured himself a drink and tossed a tiny umbrella into it.


    "Well, Poplar still has six years to go..." another Snow muttered as he poured himself a drink.


    "Who told you to be a weirdo who likes cubs?" The mocking tone was clearly too loud, as I noticed the surrounding conversations suddenly quiet down, and many eyes turned their way. The two Woods eventually decided to pretend nothing had happened and left with their drinks.


    Important social event.


    I shrugged. As someone who understood the pain that rumors and misunderstandings could cause, I decided not to judge others too quickly.


    The canines coming and going around me all seemed to naturally strike up conversations with anyone they happened to cross paths with or chat casually for a few moments, as if it were an instinct.


    Some were exchanging opinions on the quality of the drinks and the Tree Hall, while others shared gossip, including the few seconds of interrupted broadcast during the first day''s events and the recent clash between the Archduke of Germany and the Archduke of Golden.


    What''s the principle behind this?


    Even if there was a conversation I wanted to join, some sort of discomfort kept me from taking that step--it was a barrier, like being enveloped in a tangible fog that separated me from others.


    This feeling... it''s exactly like the stagnation I experience when my actions are hindered by the consciousness circle.


    I knew that if I extended my consciousness, I could easily push past this barrier, but... do I really want to socialize with these others? How many in this hall know who I am? Judging by the uncomfortable glances I occasionally received, perhaps not many. But how many would immediately change their attitude toward me once they found out who I am?


    I glanced at Aether, who was talking to a few wolves from different factions, seeming to enjoy the conversation--everyone''s tails were wagging slightly.


    I turned away, feeling a complicated emotion rising in my chest.


    A few crisp knocks caught my attention, and I noticed that the conductor on the platform had given some sort of instruction, preparing for the next piece. In the dance floor, pairs of dancers took the opportunity to acknowledge each other--some left the floor, while others joined in.


    Most of the male wolves were dressed in formal suits, clearly indicating that togas were not the best attire for this occasion. Other canines wore slightly different styles, materials, or colors, but overall, there wasn''t much difference.


    However, a few black wolves caught my eye--their suits were a vivid lapis lazuli blue, and the style differed somewhat from what I usually saw in the Senate. A few golden embroideries adorned the cuffs and other edges of their clothing, forming some sort of pattern.


    Were they members of Nyx with special status? Or was it simply a suit style that was once popular? Or maybe there was some reference that everyone else had forgotten, but only the Nyx remembered? I''ll ask Aether later.


    Although there were various canines on the dance floor, once the new song began, regardless of attire or breed, everyone started dancing in harmony to the same rhythm.


    This type of subtle yet abstract body language always gave me a somewhat odd feeling.


    I couldn''t imagine that it was possible for two sides to coordinate and complete a dance built on harmony and rhythm, but I found it easier to see a pattern in a fight to the death. Maybe this had something to do with Snow''s genes--or perhaps, I just hadn''t found the right partner yet.


    Thinking this made me instinctively scratch at my slightly warm ears.


    I shifted my gaze away from the dance floor and back to the conductor.


    I''ve always loved symphonies, that harmonious performance that resonates with something deep within me, like a chord being struck in my heart. But I''d only ever listened, never realizing that this perfect synchronization of melodies required a conductor.


    It was, of course, a Mottle faction wolf--but the way she wielded the baton was as if she were defending everything she held dear, able to cut through any obstacle in her path--no Snow would ever deny that.


    She wasn''t just a single string among many in this sea of waves; she was the wave itself--the modulator of wavelengths and frequencies, the center of all resonances. She danced, creating ripples, and the world responded with waves. There was no need to pluck, blow, or strike--she commanded the world''s form with mere gestures, shaping existence according to her will.


    The moment I realized my consciousness was swaying to the rhythm, I quickly erected a mental barrier and withdrew my consciousness.


    My heart pounded furiously, blood vessels in my ears throbbing as if they might burst, and every hair on my body stood on end. Qana had just shown some level of trust, and was I about to falter so soon?


    "Two olives, shaken, not stirred," Aether said, approaching me with a peculiar, thick accent.


    "Uh, what?" I was still trying to suppress my fight-or-flight response, unsure if I''d missed something, so I could only express my confusion.


    "Nothing." Aether tilted his head slightly and picked up a skewer of pickled olives, tossing them into his glass. "As a Nix, you get used to the idea that outside the Library of Alexandria, no one gets your jokes." He shook his glass, forming a tiny whirlpool in the pale green liquid, then took a sip. "Ugh, way worse than I expected."


    "I''m quite interested in hearing you explain that," I decided to distract myself with a different topic--small talk might help.


    "Explaining would ruin the fun," Aether replied with a dismissive wave. He finished his drink, ate the olives, and placed the glass in the recycling slot for the synthesizer to decompose, along with the glass and bamboo skewer.


    He hesitated for a moment, then picked up a new glass and began searching the bar for ingredients. I sniffed the air, confirming that the black powder was indeed pepper. Somehow, he managed to mix it into a red drink, which he finished off with a stick of celery.


    "Celery?" I wasn''t too familiar with drinks, but throwing in a stick of raw celery didn''t seem like a common recipe.


    "Some say a Bloody Mary is more like a soup," Aether said with a shrug after taking a sip of the red liquid. "But I''m just following the recipe--can''t really taste anything special."


    "Uh... okay?" I could only offer a vague agreement. Snows have relatively dull taste and smell, and I guessed it might be the same for Nixes.


    Speaking of Nixes... I turned my gaze back to the dance floor, searching for the black wolf whose attire had caught my attention earlier.


    "Why are some Nixes wearing blue suits?" I pointed to the black wolves on the dance floor. There weren''t many, but the bright blue stood out, making them easy to spot. "Is it some kind of status symbol?"


    "Technically, they''re not Nixes. They..." Aether''s tone was hesitant. But without even looking, he knew exactly what I was referring to. "...They''re mixed-blood, with some genetic differences from the Nix strain," Aether whispered, low enough for only us to hear.


    He looked like he was discussing something uncomfortable, which I could completely understand.


    "They''re London House''s gray wolves..." Aether finished his red drink, turned around, and started chewing on the celery stick. He absentmindedly glanced up at the second-floor boxes. "There." He gestured with his snout towards a certain balcony.


    I saw a black wolf in a lapis lazuli blue suit, standing with his back to us, engaged in conversation with someone. Beside him was another black wolf in the same attire, who seemed to be around our age, intently listening.


    "Griffith London, Princeps of the Lunar and head of the London House, and his only son, John London," Aether said before turning back and tossing the rest of the celery into the empty glass. "Nixes don''t like to talk about them much..."


    I nodded in response, not pressing further, not wanting to force him into an uncomfortable discussion. I had already caught the key words.


    Mixed-blood, Lunar.


    Whatever the story behind the London House was, it indicated that leaving the Senate was possible for gray wolves. And that it was possible to live freely.


    "Knowing that I might live on the Lunar someday, I suddenly have the urge to see space with my own eyes," I said, feeling a slight smile forming on my cheeks.


    "Oh? Why''s that?" Aether asked, twitching his right ear as he took his used glass to the recycler.


    "I''m not sure," I said, scratching my ear, trying to recall what the Scholarch had said that might have caused this shift in me. "It''s just that it no longer feels so abstract... It''s like... something I might actually experience in my lifetime, so I''m a little... curious?" Maybe it''s like... when a meaningless fantasy turns into a feasible plan? "Curious... if space is really that... vast."


    I allowed myself to briefly imagine a future where I might live on the Lunar, even working at Oceanus Procellarum University with Momus--we''d all be wearing those blue suits with gold trims.


    Not bad, actually. Lapis lazuli blue really brings out my eyes.


    Speaking of which, where did Momus go?


    I glanced around, but didn''t spot the pup, nor did I hear any screams, so I shrugged, trusting that Momus could take care of himself.


    The sounds of Aether preparing another drink brought me back to the present, making me realize something.


    "You''re using different-shaped glasses," I pointed out. Though I might not recognize some of the ingredients, the varied glassware was unmistakable. "Is there a reason for that?"


    "Oh." Aether took a sip of a brown liquid with a twist of orange peel, shuddering dramatically before replying. "Some of it might just be tradition, but others have their proponents, though there aren''t any strict rules."


    He decisively placed the barely-touched drink in the recycling slot and led me to the glassware section.


    "Mainly, it''s about functionality--like preventing the drink from warming up too quickly, so you have tall, stemmed designs like this." Aether pointed to one of the high-stemmed glasses he''d used earlier. "This is a martini glass. Since you don''t add ice, and because of the volume and the need to let the aroma spread, it has this inverted cone shape."


    Aether picked up a martini glass and another, much taller, stemmed glass to show me.


    "Similarly, the visual effect is another reason." He traced his finger along the taller glass. " Champagne Glasses are good for serving carbonated drinks because you can see the bubbles rise inside the glass. But if you''re more concerned about the drink''s aroma, some might recommend using a Jamesse Prestige glass."


    I couldn''t help but wonder if Aether noticed that when he shared his knowledge, the tip of his tail would sway in small, quick movements.


    It was... kind of cute, really. I wondered if all Nixes did that. But I knew I could watch it all day without getting bored.


    As the symphony played on, I listened intently as Aether explained the differences between Burgundy glasses and Pinot Noir glasses, along with hundreds of soft drinks and cocktails I''d never heard of before.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 5 - Roses and Violets 5.5

    Unexpectedly, Momus was the first to tire out. It seemed even the pups had their limits.


    Although neither Aether nor I noticed where he had wandered off to, at least Momus appeared to have had a great time, and fortunately, didn''t cause any unthinkable disasters.


    The wolf cub, drowsy and clutching Aether''s tail as if ready to fall asleep at any moment, immediately pounced onto Qana''s bed with lightning speed the moment I opened the door, burying his face in the pillow.


    Aether sighed helplessly, and I gave him a reassuring smile, indicating that it was alright.


    Qana probably wouldn''t mind, right?


    "I thought your room would be..." Aether said, looking around and scratching his ear. "More luxurious?"


    "Oh," I hadn''t really considered that. "Maybe Qana doesn''t like unnecessary things?"


    Aether nodded, walked over to Momus, and gently tugged at the little wolf cub''s scruff.


    "Give us some alone time..." Momus mumbled, turning over and wrapping himself up in the blanket.


    Aether sighed again, perhaps contemplating taking a more forceful approach. But I lightly held his arm, shaking my head.


    "Let him sleep for a while. Qana isn''t coming back today anyway," I whispered, not wanting to disturb the already softly Snowing Momus.


    "So..." Aether''s ears perked up as he glanced at the little wolf cub. "No midnight curfew tonight?"


    "Right." I averted my gaze, looking down at the empty floor by my feet, my tail shifting slightly to the right.


    "Do you think it''ll be okay to leave Momus here?" Aether whispered, and I was pretty sure there was a hint of anticipation in his tone. Of course, there was also that subtle, rapid wagging of his tail tip.


    "Well..." I might not be good at socializing or understanding various complicated unspoken cues, but I could recognize an opportunity when I smelled one. "He shouldn''t be able to run off anywhere, right?" Trying to justify my answer with a self-serving evasion, I glanced at the sleeping wolf cub. He turned over, his right leg twitching a few times.


    "Then..." Aether shifted his weight to his other foot, his tail lifting as it swayed slowly from side to side. He then met my gaze, his deep yellow eyes full of warmth. "I''d like to show you something."


    Aether led me through narrow, cluttered passageways, winding and twisting in seemingly endless directions--sometimes going up, sometimes down, and sometimes it was hard to tell. There were hidden doors that blended seamlessly with the walls, disused maintenance tunnels that looked like they hadn''t been touched since they were built, and we even crawled through an air duct for a good stretch.


    "This is really... Achoo!" I sneezed for the two-hundredth time. "Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!" Two hundred and three.


    "I feel the same," Aether teased, sounding amused. I couldn''t understand why the dust seemed to affect me but not him.


    I crawled along behind him on all fours, only able to see the black wolf''s large tail swaying back and forth, stirring up more dust. Occasionally, the fur on the tip would tickle my nose, setting off another round of sneezing with no end in sight.


    "Whew, we''re here!" Aether cheered softly. I heard the clatter of metal, and then the black wolf jumped down through some sort of opening.


    I heard it then... the rhythmic crashing of waves, back and forth. The cool, salty air brushed against my nose.


    Peeking my head through the opening, I took a moment to gauge the height before jumping down myself, landing on a slightly damp, rough concrete platform.


    "Even though the Colosseo was built through a collaboration between Ash and the Mottle faction, it''s the Nyx faction that remembers all the structures," Aether said proudly, even though half a spiderweb was still clinging to one of his ears.


    "Oh, is that so?" I gave him a once-over, tilting my head slightly. "But what I''m seeing now is definitely Ash, right?"


    Aether blinked, glancing down at his clothes and fur. He laughed as he tried to dust himself off, his yellow eyes catching the light from above.


    Then, he sneezed loudly, making me burst out laughing, and he scratched his ears in embarrassment.


    "Here." I helped him remove the rest of the spiderweb from his other ear. He hadn''t seemed to notice it. As I did, my fingers brushed against the tip of his ear, feeling the warmth, and though his ear twitched, Aether didn''t shy away or avert his gaze.


    His deep yellow eyes met mine, his pupils dilating to adjust to the light, making them look even more profound. My own ears stood up straight under his gaze, growing warm.


    I wasn''t sure what to do, but I wanted... more... something more. Inch by inch, I moved my hand closer to Aether''s cheek. His black fur tickled my palm, making me shiver slightly. My breathing grew unsteady.


    "It''s rare to see such a gentlemanly Gray," he joked harmlessly, but I felt my ears, tail, and the corners of my mouth droop reflexively. My body stiffened, and my heart seemed to skip a beat. My hand, now hovering near Aether''s face, didn''t know what to do next, so it just stayed there.


    I tried to say something or react in any way to stop the situation from becoming even more awkward, but for some reason, I couldn''t move at all--not even the slightest action. It wasn''t supposed to be like this. I didn''t care this much, did I?


    Did I?


    "Oh, damn it!" Aether''s pupils dilated even more as he grabbed his muzzle, his ears flattening against his head, looking guilty. "Sorry, I just... because you mentioned it... and you''re all gray now... Oh, damn it!" He smacked his forehead and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.


    Suddenly, I felt weak, my limbs starting to tingle. Slowly, I sat down on the edge of the concrete platform, letting my legs dangle over the sea.


    The tide ebbed and flowed, rhythmically lapping against the seawall with a gentle swishing sound. Occasionally, the cold seawater would splash against my shoes and pants.


    Aether sat down beside me, hunching over slightly, maintaining a somewhat stiff posture. His body heat spread from where we touched.


    "Sorry... I ruined the mood," he said quietly, looking out at the sea. "I rarely do this... speaking without thinking..."


    For a moment, I couldn''t respond. I tried hard to calm the emotions churning in my chest, but that wasn''t easy, even after all these years of practice. It was like the tide, coming and going, wearing down the foundation until it eventually collapses.


    Even though I knew it wasn''t anyone''s fault, why did it still hurt so much?


    The waves rippled across the sea, reflecting the lights from the top of the seawall, like a broken starry sky--flickering, ever-changing.


    "I''m the one who brought it up, so it''s not your fault," I said after finally calming down a bit, brushing the dust off my torso. "And I overreacted."


    "I should''ve thought about that..." Aether murmured, his voice heavy with guilt.


    "I think... not thinking might be... better." I placed my tail in my hands, dusting it off and starting to groom it. "I''m not entirely white."


    I felt Aether''s entire body tense, his ears standing straight up, his mouth slightly open as he stared at me in surprise. I wasn''t sure why I blurted it out; maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that I didn''t really care.


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    "At the tip of my tail, there''s a small patch of gray fur." I knew it hadn''t grown back yet because I had plucked it recently, but I still checked around the same spot. "I have to pluck it almost every month. No matter how many times I do it, the new fur always grows back gray."


    I let go of my tail, leaning back on the concrete platform, my hands supporting me as I looked up at the sparse, moonless sky.


    "That''s a pretty clear sign that no matter how hard I try to pretend everything''s normal, I can''t avoid the question of ''who I really am.''" I let my ears flatten against my head in the breeze, then took a deep breath, the salty, moist air filling my nose.


    Aether''s body relaxed, and he mimicked my pose, propping himself up and looking at the sky.


    Then, I felt it--a warm, soft sensation as he draped his tail over my lower back. After a few moments of silence, I shifted closer, leaning against Aether. I decided to rest my tail on top of his large, black tail. After a few breaths, he gently leaned his head against my shoulder. The sudden surge of emotion made me shiver slightly, but I quickly relaxed, responding in kind by resting my cheek against the top of his head.


    We communicated without words, not even needing body language, yet we understood each other so deeply. We shared the warmth of our closeness, and even in the cool sea breeze, I began to feel a little warm.


    A little warm... and it felt... good.


    "It''s the airship replenishing the sulfur dioxide gel!" Aether straightened up, excitement in his voice as he looked up. "It''s my first time seeing it with my own eyes."


    "How can you tell?" I followed his gaze, searching the sky but only seeing a small dot and a faint trail left by the aircraft in the night sky.


    "I''ve seen a description before. The airship is in the stratosphere, and I can tell from the speed and the paint on the body," Aether explained, his tail tip flicking rapidly. Our fur rubbed against each other, making a soft rustling sound that tickled me slightly.


    "Your perfect memory is really amazing, Nyx are like walking databases," I said enviously, watching the airship disappear from our sight, leaving a thin white trail behind.


    "Unlike the Mottle branch, where nearly half of the members have at least one form of synesthesia, the number of Nyx with perfect memory is very small, never exceeding ten at any given time," Aether replied in a calm tone. "I don''t have perfect memory."


    "Oh," my ears twitched in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn''t know."


    "It''s nothing," he shrugged. "I''m grateful for my good fortune."


    I looked at Aether, tilting my head slightly with my right ear folded down. The black wolf''s yellow eyes were still fixed on the night sky, as if searching for something far away.


    "Imagine a life with perfect memory," he murmured. "You would remember everything, whether you wanted to or not; you wouldn''t be able to forget anything, no matter how hard you tried." Aether blinked slowly. "Ignorance is bliss, and forgetting is a breath of relief." His tone, full of distant understanding, stirred a familiar feeling within me. Perhaps this is why Qana said that psychics are always drawn to each other.


    Is it because loneliness is a prerequisite for awakening one''s abilities? Or is loneliness merely the path all sensitive souls must walk?


    I suppose I don''t have an answer for now.


    So, I quietly listened, waiting for Aether to be ready to continue sharing his thoughts.


    "Momus has perfect memory." I hadn''t expected Aether to say this, so I just pricked up my ears and slightly opened my mouth. "You wouldn''t think so, would you?" He turned to me and asked.


    "No," I replied honestly, since I had never really thought about what having perfect memory meant or what impact it might have on an individual. Nor had I ever considered that Momus, who seemed so out of place among the Nyx, would have perfect memory.


    "I suppose that''s why he''s always so resistant to learning... it has something to do with it." Aether paused, and we listened to the rhythm of the waves crashing against the seawall. "All memories become barnacles, permanently attached to your mind... and you have no choice in the matter."


    "But there must be some... benefits to this kind of... trait, right?" I said slowly. "After all, you are... Nyx." I spoke in a compliant tone, not wanting to seem... presumptuous.


    "Of course, that''s why everyone is so tolerant of Momus," Aether shrugged. "But even by the relatively open-minded standards of the Nyx in the Senate, Momus is still too unconventional." He leaned his head against my shoulder again, gently nuzzling it. "This tolerance is built on the belief that he will become a valuable asset, not because..." Aether paused again, and we listened quietly to the sound of the waves.


    The frequency of wet droplets hitting my calves increased; perhaps the tide was coming in?


    "And not because..." Aether tried to speak again, but still couldn''t finish the sentence, leaving the sound of the waves to fill the silence.


    I mimicked Qana''s earlier gesture, resting my chin on top of Aether''s head, gently nuzzling him and exposing my throat to him.


    "When Momus was younger, I couldn''t accept his... rebellion at all." Aether''s breath warmed my skin as he spoke, a slight dampness clinging to my neck. "I was always worried that he would never be able to adapt to life in the Library of Alexandria... or find a place in the Senate."


    Aether let out a long breath and stopped speaking again. We stayed in our supportive embrace, listening to the waves.


    "Of course, I''m still worried now, but I was much... more forceful back then." He raised his right hand to inspect his fingers. "No... I should say, worse."


    Aether''s body trembled slightly. I didn''t move, trying to continue offering support.


    "When Momus was six, just after he left our parents'' care and started his basic education, I was his only support in an entirely unfamiliar environment. The only person he could trust amid all the predators waiting to exploit his value," Aether spoke, with pauses in his sentences, but he managed to get the words out. "At least I was supposed to be."


    The black wolf beside me trembled slightly, and I thought it wasn''t due to the temperature. Nonetheless, I shifted closer, letting us huddle even tighter.


    "The irony is, I don''t actually remember the scene or the details," he laughed bitterly, expelling a breath through his nose. "I can only be sure that, once again, when Momus behaved in a way that didn''t conform to Nyx norms, I tried to ''correct'' him..."


    I sensed a certain wave emanating from Aether''s consciousness, resonating with my own. Our matching wavelengths didn''t add up but instead accommodated each other perfectly. Unlike the time with Piqsirpoq''s wave, this happened naturally.


    "That day went particularly badly for me, and he resisted more than usual, but none of that is an excuse." Aether spoke again, his tone deliberately calm. "I was so angry... At that time, I couldn''t understand or accept why, when it was so simple... why couldn''t he just be... the same, why did he have to cause trouble, why did he have to... cause me trouble." He sighed, finishing his sentence in an almost inaudible voice.


    Aether''s pause this time was so long that I wasn''t sure if I felt something wet on my shoulder. I guessed it might not have been seawater.


    "I hit him," Aether said in that deliberately flattened tone again. "Even without perfect memory, I could never forget Momus''s expression at that moment." He took a deep breath, tensing up. "The fear, helplessness, and... betrayal when you''re hurt by someone you trust, someone who''s supposed to protect you." Aether exhaled slowly, his body occasionally trembling. "And, as mentioned before, Momus has perfect memory."


    I didn''t know how to respond. I wasn''t even sure if I truly understood the emotions Aether described or the situation Momus was in. Even though our consciousness was resonating with the same wavelength, it could be for entirely different reasons. So I just continued to listen quietly.


    "Piqsirpoq never hit you, did he?" Aether asked softly.


    "No." Although I wasn''t sure whether violence and cold violence could be compared.


    "See, that''s me, the worst..." Aether murmured, "...coward."


    "I don''t think you''re... a coward." I wasn''t sure what to say, so I simply stated my feelings.


    "Isn''t that right? After all, you''ve known me for two whole months." Aether exhaled sharply through his nose. "I don''t even have the courage to apologize..." His wavelength faltered slightly. "I can''t forgive myself, let alone... Momus, who relives every detail constantly."


    "Oh..." I still didn''t know what to say, but I felt like I should say something. "Maybe... apologizing could help clear the air?" I recalled that evening''s conversation with Piqsirpoq on the balcony.


    "Yes, it''s possible." He sighed again. "But I think I''m more afraid of another possibility... What if Momus doesn''t intend to forgive me?" He looked at his hand again. "I don''t have the courage to accept that outcome."


    "I..." If Piqsirpoq hadn''t taken that first step, could I really have apologized to him? "I don''t know." In the end, I admitted. "I suppose Snow isn''t exactly known for being... ''wise''..."


    "Apparently, some Nyx aren''t either..." Aether chuckled bitterly. "I never even considered looking for opportunities outside the Empire, even though the London House on the Lunar is a precedent. I only thought about forcing Momus to adapt, thinking it was for his own good..."


    "If not for Master Faurik''s willingness to help connect me with opportunities, I probably wouldn''t have any idea about my future, just wandering aimlessly. I''m lucky to have someone willing to help me," I admitted. "And if I were a Nyx... I suppose the faction wouldn''t want to let go of such a valuable talent..." Like Momus.


    "For now, let''s just take it one step at a time. At least it''s better than having no hope at all." Aether said. "Maybe sometimes, solutions really do pop up on their own."


    I murmured a quiet acknowledgment, thinking about the question concerning "them." I still don''t understand why Qana harbors such strong animosity towards "them." From what little he''s willing to reveal, "they" trained Qana and taught the sword master everything he knows about psychic abilities. But perhaps that''s also why Qana understands just how dangerous "they" truly are.


    Aether is also an psychic... So, could "they" offer him help, solve Aether''s problem? Or are "they" just as dangerous to him as they are to me? If that''s the case, why doesn''t Qana warn him? Is it simply because Qana doesn''t care about Aether''s safety? Or are "they" only a threat to me?


    I really hate being in the dark like this. But every time Qana mentions "them," he becomes so... agitated that I don''t dare ask more questions.


    First, I''ll confirm the details with Master Faurik. Who knows? Lately, things have been going quite smoothly for me.


    Another wave crashed in, wetting the soles of my shoes, and the lower edges of my pants were already pretty soaked. I wondered if this place would be submerged soon.


    "Sorry..." Aether murmured softly. "I just wanted to show you the sea up close..." He paused for a moment, then gently tapped his feet on the water''s surface, making soft splashing sounds. "But instead, I''ve been going on about depressing things, wasting our last day."


    "No... It wasn''t a waste." I imitated Aether''s action, tapping the water''s surface with the tip of my shoe, watching the ripples dissipate on the rising and falling waves. "I feel... happy." I realized I was venturing into unfamiliar territory, where every word needed careful consideration before being spoken. "Being able to... reveal my true self, it feels... like a great relief." I rubbed my chin against the top of Aether''s head a few more times. "And thank you for being willing to share... these things with me."


    "Hmm..." Aether''s ears twitched as he adjusted his sitting position. "I feel like a weight has been lifted too." He let out a small laugh. "Though I doubt it''ll help with anything practical..."


    "I think, having the strength to keep moving forward is always helpful." I crossed my legs, and Aether followed suit, to avoid soaking our shoes. This made us stop leaning against each other, but our tails were still entwined, and I could clearly feel the lingering warmth. "As long as we keep taking steps forward, we''ll reach the end eventually, wherever that may be."


    "I thought Snow wasn''t exactly known for being ''wise.''" Aether leaned back on his hands, raising his muzzle slightly to gaze at the dark sea ahead.


    "Well..." I mimicked Aether''s posture, swallowing nervously. "I''m half Gray, so that should help a bit."


    Once I said it, it didn''t seem as difficult. Like a spell being broken, I couldn''t even remember what had been holding me back in the first place.


    I was merely accepting a simple truth.


    I could even feel a smile forming from a sense of humor. So, I laughed.


    I must have looked ridiculous because Aether joined in, laughing along with me. For a while, all we could hear was our laughter, accompanied by the sound of waves crashing against the seawall.


    "Although it''s not as vast as space, the ocean is still pretty expansive, isn''t it?" Aether asked, wiping the corners of his eyes after we had calmed down, turning his gaze back to the sea.


    "Yes..." It was then that I understood why Aether had brought me here. A warm feeling rose in my chest as I followed his gaze into the distance. "Expansive enough that it feels like... like..." My limited vocabulary couldn''t capture the scene or my feelings. "I don''t know."


    "Maybe when you get to the Lunar and see the even vaster space, you''ll know?" Aether asked, his tone a bit lazy.


    I turned to look at the black wolf, watching as he closed his eyes, raised his muzzle, and let the sea breeze blow back the fur on his ears and face. The dust-covered shirt on his back flapped freely, making a soft rustling sound.


    I could really appreciate this sight and never grow tired of it.


    "How much longer until this place is submerged?" My clothes were getting wetter from the waves, and I had to be somewhat practical.


    "About ten minutes," Aether said after glancing at the markings on the seawall and checking the time on his terminal.


    "Then I suppose," I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "we should make the most of the time we have left."


    So, for the next ten minutes, we silently watched the horizon where the dark sea met the sparsely starry sky, trying to grasp that indescribable vastness and enjoying each other''s company.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - Void

    Void : Void... will consume everything.


    "To cool coffee faster, people used to pour it into a saucer to drink. This was common until thin, efficient porcelain cups became widespread, making the practice of drinking from a cup the new norm." I licked the last drop of coffee from the saucer and said.


    "Drinking coffee from a saucer..." Luther scratched his ear, clearly puzzled. "Isn''t that rather... uncouth?"


    "I think this example demonstrates something important--what''s considered refined or uncouth is just arbitrary nonsense." I tossed the saucer at Luther, who caught it effortlessly with Domination, the white disc hovering just before his snout.


    I glanced at the sink, hinting. He sighed, lowered his ears, and with a resigned expression, began washing the dishes.


    I always found this process mesmerizing--Luther would guide a stream of water, turning it into a supercritical fluid mist through which the dishes passed.


    Terrifying... yet undeniably beautiful.


    "Is this really necessary?" Luther muttered as he reverted the dirty parts of the dishes back into fluid and guided them into the wall-mounted disposal unit. "I can think of ten simpler ways to clean dishes."


    "I wouldn''t make you do this for no reason," I replied, somewhat irritably. "The point is to practice control, and using carbon dioxide is too easy. My instructor took three years to help me master creating supercritical water." I stretched, hearing my joints crack as I reminisced about my youth. "It took another year to separate grime from used dishes. I''ll never forget the hundreds of dirty plates I washed over those four years." I shrugged and grinned at Luther. "I believe this process can be replicated."


    "If you didn''t so forcefully ''believe'' that a used cup ''should'' be dirty, I''m sure I would''ve succeeded by now." Luther stowed the clean dishes in the cupboard, not even needing hand gestures to assist. "The consciousness union of the gray wolf is nothing short of stubborn."


    "Stop complaining. Your mastery of psychic techniques has already broken all records." To say my pride had no sore spots would be a lie. What was it, only the third year?


    "I have an exceptional teacher." Luther bowed his head to me, ears flattened back. If not for the overly smug grin, he would''ve looked sincere.


    "Don''t waste your energy flattering me," I snorted.


    Luther straightened up but quickly licked his nose, that smug smile still lingering. I decided to reprimand him later; we had already agreed on the boundaries during duty shifts.


    "Why did we start talking about this?" I asked as I walked to the living room window, watching a freighter loading Augira crystals at Ceres Starport.


    "Oh, you mean the history of drinking coffee from a saucer?" Luther casually sat on the sofa, drawing canna juice from the fridge through a small open crack, forming several equally-sized yellow spheres in front of him. "You were just about to talk about the turning point in the Inner Planet War."


    I silently watched Luther open his mouth wide, swallowing the yellow spheres one by one, his cute expression making the corners of my mouth lift. But the words at the end of his sentence... they were like a black hole, sucking away all my levity, tearing it apart.


    "How did these two topics get tangled together?" I rubbed my temples in frustration, sitting down across from Luther. Was my concentration starting to slip?


    "Uh..." Luther hesitated, leaning back in his chair and pushing a juice sphere toward me. "Whenever you talk about the Inner Planet War, this usually happens." He averted his gaze, looking at the floor, scratching his ear. "Last time we were near the asteroid belt and around Cronus''s rings, it was the same. You always seem to... drink too much coffee."


    Was it because of the resonant waves between psychics that he noticed? Or had I, due to Luther''s straightforward and simple nature, overlooked his delicate and perceptive mind? Could it be more straightforward and reasonable--that he simply cared about me?


    "Saying it was a turning point isn''t quite accurate." I opened my mouth, swallowing the yellow sphere, savoring the burst of flavor in my mouth. "Essentially, the Battle of Midway was the full stop."


    I picked up my terminal, noting that our duty shift was about to end, and handed over my tasks to Arthur, responding to the urgent messages. Then, I tried to relax, slumping on the sofa, staring at the living room ceiling, organizing how to briefly recount the entire event.


    Luther met my gaze, his large brown eyes waiting patiently.


    As I gathered my thoughts, the room''s lighting shifted to the evening setting, the simulated twilight sky displaying a seven-colored gradient on the ceiling and walls of the living room.


    Perhaps it was Luther''s presence, or perhaps enough time had passed for me to process and recount those memories.


    "At that time, I was an intern third officer on the Empire''s Heart, following Arthur, who was the first officer." Although the heaviness in my chest was hard to bear, certain memories still made me smile. "The Inner Planet War had been in a stalemate for years, with constant skirmishes but no truly devastating large-scale battles."


    I drew several adamantine pieces from a hidden compartment, disassembling them into fine sand, which floated above the coffee table in front of the sofa. I found that, like telling a story, adopting a detached perspective made it easier and more objective to revisit what had happened.


    "Until... the Federation successfully mounted an Apocalypse-class beam on their warships. We confirmed after the war that four warships equipped with this weapon were built, named War, Plague, Famine, and Death."


    The War, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, began to take shape from the adamantine sand. More like a fortress than a warship, it was a massive spherical structure about 40 kilometers in diameter, equipped with numerous reflective mirrors, accelerators, and high-power energy emitters. The rear of the sphere bore an even larger cross-shaped framework, designed to unfold into multiple branches for cooling purposes.


    "And the Federation clearly intended to use a direct attack on the Empire''s flagship as the debut of their secret weapon."


    On the edge of the coffee table near me, I formed the fleet of the Empire''s Heart--comprising the 25-kilometer-long flagship, six cruisers, two battleships, five destroyers, and a propulsion ship. The fleet was traveling in thermal stealth mode, with the destroyers at the forefront, forming a tetrahedral formation, deploying thermal shields to cover the fleet.


    "We still aren''t entirely sure why the fleet''s position was exposed, but that doesn''t really matter."


    The War slowly unfolded its entire cooling framework, like an angel spreading its wings, and then its main cannon flashed.


    "When the Empire''s Heart was hit, the armor officer immediately switched to ablative armor to respond, but the Apocalypse-class beam''s power was too high. Analyzing the attack''s wavelength took time, and it was clear that the Empire''s Heart would be breached before the calculations were complete."


    The Empire''s Heart ''s bow began to melt, spewing out fine dust that drifted. The melted section continued to erode deeper, inching closer to the bridge, but the erosion suddenly halted.


    "Lucas..." I couldn''t even remember his name back then. "Captain Lucas moved the Listening into the beam''s path, trying to buy us some time with its thermal shields, but obviously, against that level of energy, it didn''t make much difference."


    The destroyer at the peak of the tetrahedral formation moved into the War''s line of fire, taking the brunt of the attack, and began to melt.


    "Meanwhile, the Admiral was berating me for intervening, breaking my nose and causing me to lose focus for too long, missing the window for effective response. I didn''t even notice when communication with the Listening cut off..."


    The destroyer, over half of its hull vaporized, lost power and began drifting with inertia. Meanwhile, the War''s cooling panels started to steam, as if they were about to melt.


    "The Admiral relieved me of duty because I believed we should use the Empire''s Heart--with its most extensive ablative armor--as a shield to ensure the other ships could retreat while buying time to rescue the Listening''s survivors. But he ordered the cruiser group to move into the War''s line of fire instead. Perhaps because the remaining destroyers were too far away, and the War was beyond the battleships'' effective range, he didn''t see any other options."


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The cruisers began to move, intending to use their hulls as shields to protect the flagship.


    "The Empire''s Heart fleet''s cruiser group is also known as ''the Shield of German,'' but it''s not meant to be used this way... Regardless, I believe they were eager to accept the mission, likely due to some sense of ''honor.'' To me, it was an incomprehensible foolishness, because after an attack of this magnitude, the weapon would need hours to cool down before it could fire again. Of course, at that moment, I was being dragged out of the bridge, unable to express my opinion. The Admiral intended to throw me in the brig, likely related to me calling him ''a brainless idiot.''"


    The cruisers were still moving, but at this moment, the main cannon of the War flashed once again.


    "In the end... I guess I''m also ''a brainless idiot''," I said, pressing my palm to my forehead. "No... actually, all of us are."


    The Empire''s Heart was struck, the area of molten damage continued to expand and deepen, and it was clear that the cruisers wouldn''t make it to the attack path before the flagship''s bridge was destroyed. But suddenly, the attack stopped, as the War exploded into fragments.


    "The pause between the last attacks allowed the wavelength analysis to complete. The armor officer managed to buy us a little more time by switching to full-reflection armor. And as I expected, the Apocalypse indeed needed a lot of time to cool down, but the enemy commander clearly couldn''t pass up the opportunity to destroy the Empire''s Heart, so he decided... to take a risk."


    The fragments of the War floated everywhere, and the remaining half of the Listening Ship''s wreckage did the same... at least until its final explosion. Countless tiny fragments began their eternal drift.


    "I think... at that moment, I could no longer bear it. I finally decided to do what I should have done long ago." I waved my hand, dismantling all the models except for the Empire''s Heart, returning them to adamantine sand. "As the Patriarch of the House, I took command of the Empire''s Heart and issued an ultimatum to the Federal Command Core at Midway Fortress."


    On Luther''s end of the coffee table, the adamantine sand formed the shape of Midway Fortress and the Yamato Fleet. Numerous gigantic defensive structures assembled from regular icosahedrons, surrounded by hundreds of warships.


    A thin screen rose from the center of the coffee table, separating Midway Fortress from the Empire''s Heart.


    "We had... a very interesting conversation. But simply put, they naturally rejected my unconditional peace offer."


    The outermost layer of adamantine sand began to detach from the flagship Empire''s Heart, floating randomly around it. When nearly all of the adamantine sand had detached from the Empire''s Heart , leaving only the basic structure to maintain the ship''s cabins, I gave a command gesture, and the adamantine sand began to pulse and flicker, with increasing frequency and speed, before finally moving along a specific trajectory, forming a high-speed, flowing symbol--a symbol with no beginning, no end, no borders, no limits--Infinity.


    "Leon was the chief engineer of the Empire''s Heart at the time. I ordered him to open a small wormhole that would drain the flagship''s energy, connecting Midway Fortress to our space."


    In the center of the thin screen separating the two sides, a small opening appeared.


    "I gave them ten minutes to consider surrender, and another ten minutes to evacuate... but they refused both."


    The Federal fleet and fortress immediately fired at the wormhole opening, countless artillery blasts traversing the distorted space, but all were intercepted by the Empire''s Heart ''s drones.


    "Their number were within the limit I could suppress, but they had three psychics--two Gamma-levels and one Beta. The Beta was strong; the fleet and fortress were both within his consciousness domain, and the combined resilience of their minds made it impossible for me to directly disarm them."


    The Federal attack became increasingly intense, but the small attack window worked in favor of the Empire''s Heart, which could defend with drones, even against high-powered beams or particle weapons. And those superweapons took too long to cool down between shots, making them ineffective.


    "I gave them another chance to cease fire and surrender... but my offer was still... not accepted."


    The drones circling above the flagship moved faster and faster, their glow growing ever brighter until they looked like a twisted silver stream.


    "So... there was only one option left..."


    The drones split from the endpoints of the infinity symbol into two torrents, rushing into the wormhole with unstoppable force, pouring out the other side.


    Engulfing everything.


    "The combined mental fortification with the psychics was too resilient, so I had no choice but to synchronize with the drones, resonating with the adamantine embedded in their edges, to sink every one of the Federal warships."


    Like locusts or marching ants, wherever the silver stream of adamantine passed, the warships were torn into fragments of varying sizes.


    It didn''t take long for the hundreds of vessels to lose all response, leaving only slowly rotating, drifting debris.


    And the fortress itself, heavily surrounded by the drone swarm, continued its futile resistance. "I asked again..." Actually, it was more like I begged, I thought. "...for their surrender, but the annihilation of their fleet clearly did not shake their resolve; it might have even strengthened it. So..." The adamantine sand that shrouded the fortress like a dense fog split into dozens of streams after coalescing, piercing through the fortress''s outer shell, flooding into it, surging, eroding, devouring, dismantling the gigantic structure. Finally, the fortress exploded from within, like an overripe fruit falling to the ground.


    Fragments of various sizes, the drones without targets, and countless... corpses that weren''t depicted in this hellish scene, all drifted silently in space, along with fields that couldn''t be observed directly.


    "In total, 982,365 people, 550,000 of whom were fortress garrison troops, including about 100,000 non-combat personnel." I released my consciousness, letting the adamantine sand fall and scatter across the coffee table and floor. "I killed them all."


    I looked at my fingers and rubbed them together. Then I raised my gaze, focusing on Luther''s face.


    How would you see me now?


    The living room lighting switched to night mode, plunging the surroundings into darkness. After my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw Luther, still sitting as before, his eyes reflecting the faint glow from the choroid layer, his expression seemingly deep in thought.


    "Oh, and the Empire''s Heart ''s armor officer," I added. "Even though he was Delta-level, the screams of nearly a million people dying clearly exceeded his tolerance."


    Those who think space is silent have never heard those soul-wrenching cries.


    "He screamed on the bridge for a long time, and I had no choice but to knock him out. For the next few months, the chief medical officer was forced to keep him in an induced coma because whenever he woke up, all he could do was scream." What was his name again? Captain... Hans? Yes, definitely, Captain Hans, the German Shepherd. "In the end, the medical board unanimously agreed to perform humane euthanasia on him. So I guess that should count on my record too."


    I sighed and adjusted my posture because my waist was starting to stiffen again.


    "At least there''s some small comfort that he was the only casualty from our fleet in the Battle of Midway." I thought, perhaps a part of me died then too. But could that really be called a "casualty"? Or can I even be considered a part of the fleet? I don''t know.


    I felt more like a player, and they were just my pieces. Or more accurately, like a clueless child playing with scattered game pieces, occasionally putting one in their mouth for a bite.


    Luther still hadn''t spoken or even changed his sitting position. Say something, you straightforward and sensitive mutt!


    "Are you... troubled?" Luther tilted his head slightly as he spoke, as if he were troubled too. I hadn''t expected that reaction from him and raised an eyebrow.


    "Yes..." I suppose I need to admit that sometimes I really do ''lose sleep'' over this memory. "...and no." But I''m quite certain that what I did doesn''t truly bother me.


    "But that was war." Luther said, "You had to protect your people."


    "Let''s assume for a moment that war really justifies these actions, but the truth is, what I did was closer to a massacre." I propped my chin on one hand, leaning against the armrest. "The only reason I wasn''t prosecuted for war crimes is because we won." My ear twitched slightly. "Maybe also because no one dared."


    "You were just doing your duty," Luther insisted.


    "When I stand trial one day, I''ll be sure to ask you to defend me." In response to my remark, he folded his right ear down, as if not appreciating my joke, so I continued explaining. "Isn''t everyone? Isn''t everyone ''just doing their duty''?"


    Luther tilted his head to the other side.


    "Following orders from some ''leader'' you''ve never met, maybe even someone you don''t like, how does that absolve you of your actions? " I tapped my nails on the armrest. "The superior gives an order, and you just follow it?" I joked again, but Luther clearly wasn''t in the mood to play along.


    "But..." He shifted his posture, rubbing his hands together. "You didn''t have any other choice."


    "Choices are always there." I sighed softly, speaking in a low voice. " ''Man is condemned to be free.'' "


    "But what choice is there? Everyone''s just following orders." Luther looked a little angry. "If you disobey orders, you get severely punished. Not to mention, if you don''t kill them, they''ll kill you, or the people you care about."


    "I''m saying ''choices are always there.'' I didn''t say choices don''t come with costs or consequences." I locked eyes with Luther to emphasize my point. " ''Wielding a sword means you will hurt people.'' " My whispered words were almost too faint for me to hear.


    "In a situation where there''s no real choice, it''s not a choice at all," Luther said in a tone full of complaint. "And how can anyone expect us to put someone else''s needs before our own?"


    "Yes, you''re right," I replied with a faint smile. "I just wanted to remind you that the choice is always there. If you''re only looking to make things easier for yourself by shifting the burden and pain onto the so-called ''leader'' giving orders, then that''s wrong."


    Luther tilted his head, his expression still conflicted, clearly not convinced by my words--or perhaps not even understanding what I was trying to convey.


    Maybe, deep down, I hoped he would never fully understand.


    But I also didn''t want to take away his opportunity to comprehend this matter.


    Damn, I hate paradoxes, almost as much as I hate compromises.


    "Go back to your room and get some rest. I have some things to take care of," I lied, avoiding the questioning gaze in his brown eyes. Damn those puppy-dog eyes--they should be banned under the Geneva Convention!


    After Luther left, I sat alone in the darkness, listening to the ceaseless screams echoing in my mind.


    I expanded my consciousness, summoning the item I needed from the storage locker into my hand, then let my consciousness withdraw, allowing the field to dissipate.


    It was a small, round metal pendant. The design on the front was just as foolish as I remembered--stupid, really. So I turned the pendant over and read the inscription on the back.


    "Exitus acta probat." The bitterness in my mouth made my throat dry, and I could only produce a hoarse sound. I gripped the pendant tightly, feeling the cold, hard metal beneath my fingers. "Kotetsu, you stubborn fool!" I shouted into the endless void, forming a communication wave from my memory and futilely sending out a signal that would never be answered again. My frustration had no target to vent on, leaving me with nothing but my own inability to blame.


    My hands started trembling again, and I sighed in resignation. I walked over to the metal table by the observation window, intending to pour myself a cup of coffee.


    When I discovered the coffee was gone, the suffocating sense of frustration reached a new height. I wanted to smash the glass pot on the floor as if that would mean anything at all. So, I simply placed the pot back where it belonged, defeated.


    I braced myself against the metal table, lowering my head, trying to escape the endless void--at least for a moment.


    Maybe I was too numb, or perhaps I subconsciously ignored it, so it wasn''t until Luther hugged me from behind that I realized he was there.


    "Didn''t I tell you to go back to your room?" I muttered, surrendering to the warmth I couldn''t resist.


    "My shift is over. I don''t have to follow your orders." He hugged me tighter, gently rubbing his chin on my left shoulder.


    "There''s no such thing as shifts here, just being on duty or on standby," I mumbled back, placing my right hand over his arm that was wrapped around my chest.


    "Call it whatever you want, it''s all the same. I just can''t leave you like this..." Luther whispered softly in my ear, a warm breath tickling my ear. "Especially when you''re crying."


    It wasn''t until Luther said that that I noticed the wet fur against my cheek. Had I already started ignoring that feeling?


    After wiping my face a few times, I straightened up and looked at my reflection in the observation window. Then I lowered my head, focusing on the wet fur in my palm, trying to brush the moisture away. I failed.


    "Should I brew a new pot?" Luther asked, glancing at the empty glass pot.


    "No..." I hesitated for a moment before deciding. "This is fine." Boundaries and all that, I didn''t care for them right now.


    I took off my red uniform jacket and hung it on the wall, then turned around and returned to the safe haven Luther offered.


    "This is fine..." I nuzzled his ear with my nose, then buried my head in his thick, black fur, inhaling deeply. "This is fine."


    In the silent darkness, we held each other tightly, until the only sound I could hear was the synchronized beating of two hearts.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.1

    Air Conditioning and Barbarians: Sealing all the doors and windows can lead to more than just poor air circulation.


    I exhaled slowly, watching my breath condense into a cloud of white mist, and then shivered.


    I hate cold weather.


    A layer of white crystals coated the scattered stones around me, and the tips of the vegetation were adorned with various frost formations. This year''s negative Arctic Oscillation was particularly strong, making the winter much colder, with the first snow arriving early and fierce.


    The outdoor training grounds, naturally, were a sheet of silver, with only a few flattened areas exposing the grayish-black ground underneath. A few Snows were playing in the snow, the snowballs bursting against their pure white fur, and everyone was laughing joyfully.


    When Qana appeared, all the wolves stopped playing and gathered around the swordsmanship master.


    I had always been curious about how Qana could move so nimbly through the snow, especially considering he weighed a hundred kilograms. Was it some kind of psychic ability?


    I wasn''t paying much attention to what Qana was saying because, as usual, he would come to find me later, and we would head together to that secluded training space.


    So when I heard a few key words, my ears perked up. I turned toward the swordsmanship master, wanting to make sure I hadn''t misheard.


    "Richter, lead the run." He repeated himself, though my reluctance made me bold enough to tilt my head and protest to the master. I was unsurprised to receive a "don''t waste my time" expression in response.


    I had no choice but to lower my ears and accept that this was really happening.


    With a sigh, I shook myself, stretching to shake off the ice crystals clinging to my snow gear, and started the equipment check process. I first ensured the crampons were working properly, then drew the ice axe from the boot''s sheath and firmly tied the strap around my wrist. Lastly, I put on dark goggles, adjusting them for the best fit. Once ready, I took several deep breaths, forcing myself to take the first step into what I was sure would be an extremely grueling task.


    I hate long-distance running.


    I hate cross-country long-distance running.


    I hate cross-country long-distance running in winter.


    I hate cross-country long-distance running in winter, especially when I have to lead and clear the way.


    I hate cross-country long-distance running in winter, leading and clearing the way while feeling all the hateful glares on my back because I''m too slow, forcing them to endure the cold wind.


    "Why... why... why?" I gasped as I asked.


    Qana lifted me by the scruff of my neck, carrying me into the secluded training space. I still hadn''t caught my breath, and my ears were frozen stiff, my whiskers were iced over, and every now and then, I''d shiver so hard my teeth clattered.


    "To make you understand that even if you can master the stance of a psychic, without sufficient training, there are still many things you can''t do," Qana stated simply, as if explaining a basic truth. "Piqsirpoq led the run for the last three years."


    "So what?" I responded with a complaining tone, retracting the crampons into my boots, taking off the goggles, and brushing the snow off my face. Then, I rubbed my hands together and held my poor ears. I had worried for a moment that they might fall off and shatter on the ground.


    The swordsmanship master didn''t respond, so I glanced at him, but his expression immediately made my tail tuck between my legs.


    "Uh... I mean... uh..." I still couldn''t feel my ears, so I kept my hands on my head and lowered it toward Qana, fixing my gaze on the ground. "Yes, Master," I said in a submissive tone.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Qana press something on the wall, and then the room''s temperature began to rise.


    I sighed with satisfaction, relaxing as my body stopped trembling.


    "Arrogance leads to defeat," the swordsmanship master said, hanging his cloak on the side and walking toward me. "If you know your weaknesses but don''t work to strengthen them, it''s a lazy attitude."


    To emphasize his point, Qana moved in front of me and knocked on the top of my head.


    "Yes, Master," I mumbled in a low voice.


    "You know that Gray''s bloodline makes your physical functions relatively weaker, right?" Qana asked, placing his large hand on mine, which was still holding my ears.


    "I know..." It''s so... warm. I could slowly start to feel my ears again, and they didn''t hurt as much. "I''ve thought that might be why my cold tolerance is obviously worse than others..."


    "Interestingly, your hybrid version actually has a superior reflex arc, but your endurance, which requires aerobic metabolism, is noticeably poor," Qana said, as if evaluating the performance of a weapon, which made me feel a bit strange. "But I believe that practice is always the only path to perfection, no matter what."


    The swordsmanship master repeated his maxim, then removed his hand from my head and knocked on it again.


    "Yes, Master..." I began to say, but sensing a threat, I leaned back just in time to dodge.


    A flash of silver sliced through the air, severing some of my fur, which floated slowly in the air.


    "Ukayok," Qana commanded, his voice steady. A shockwave rushed at me, reverberating through the enclosed space.


    I flipped backward and landed on my toes, spreading out my consciousness, alert for the next attack.


    Qana swung the Winter''s Chill, assuming the "Snow" stance, with both hands on the hilt, the sword''s tip raised to his ear. A powerful resonance emanated from the broadsword, even causing the air to vibrate, and the harmonized field began to form.


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    "Are you serious?" I questioned. "You''ve awakened the Winter Chill, and I don''t even have a weapon?" I glanced at the smooth black wall. "At least give me something, anything?"


    "This is a test," Qana replied, his movements slow as he raised the broadsword high before slashing diagonally.


    The blade of the Winter Chill gleamed with a cold light, looking extremely dangerous, but I knew it wasn''t the weapon itself that I should be concerned about.


    Here it comes.


    Seven slashes tore through the air, the trajectories and ripples they created, along with the sound of the wind being split, churned within the harmonized field.


    I twisted my body and lowered my center of gravity, dodging the attacks, though a few cuts appeared on my clothing.


    "Do you know what the other masters do?" I protested, resetting my stance. "''Next week''s focus will be on last month''s lessons,'' or ''Please memorize the key points.''"


    I was certain I saw Qana grin as he raised the Winter Chill again, drawing a cross-shaped sword path.


    Too many! Way too many!


    A dense barrage of slashes materialized within my consciousness field.


    It''s impossible to dodge them all!


    I opted for the only viable strategy.


    I gathered my consciousness, using my willpower to intercept the attacks, neutralizing their impact in the physical space.


    This was difficult without a weapon, especially against a powerful psychic and swordsmanship master, but I managed to do it.


    Qana laughed heartily, withdrawing his sword technique, and once more raised the Winter Chill overhead, delivering a heavy downward strike.


    A brilliant silver flash etched itself into the physical space, forming a massive slash that barreled toward me, accompanied by countless small arc-shaped cuts, sealing off my escape routes.


    Damn, he wants me to take this hit.


    I extended my right palm toward the slash that was carving through the ground toward me, focused my mind, felt the waveforms pulsing in sync with my heartbeat, and released a shockwave.


    The air in front of me exploded, a mist forming instantly, but it was quickly blown away. When my shockwave collided with the silver slash, a stinging sensation shot through my right palm, then spread throughout my body. I gritted my teeth and held on, reinforcing my will to maintain the strength of my shockwave.


    The slash shattered, and from the cracks in the black fragments of the floor, the path of my shockwave was evident. As it struck Qana, the sensation of hitting an impenetrable barrier caused me to stumble.


    Once I regained my focus, I saw Qana, slightly disheveled, using the Winter Chill to support himself as he rose from a half-kneeling position.


    That must have stung him good.


    Our shockwaves continued to press against each other, and I once again gathered my consciousness, increasing the frequency of my output. Qana was pushed back slightly, sliding a short distance, but as soon as he regained his balance, he assumed the "Frost" stance, raising the Winter Chill and pointing the tip toward me. A strong resonance emanated from the broadsword.


    The swordsmanship master increased the density of the waveform at the tip of the broadsword, shaping the shockwave into a cone as if trying to pierce a hole through my shockwave.


    This wasn''t our first time clashing wills, but never before with this intensity. Qana believed I was stronger, but with the resonance from an awakened adamantine weapon, I didn''t have any advantage.


    Though it seemed Qana was being pushed back, there wasn''t a trace of tension on his face--he just smiled wider.


    Perhaps... I should... up the ante?


    I gathered all my strength and delved deeper into my mind.


    I sought power, but I didn''t know what its source was. Qana never directly explained to me what exactly the power of a psychic depends on. The concept of "self" was incredibly abstract.


    Does "self" have a deeper meaning? With this question in mind, I continued to dig deeper.


    This aimless search clearly wasn''t going to lead me to anything useful.


    So, I broke away from my thoughts, intending to adopt a different strategy. At that moment, I noticed that the ground between Qana and me began to slightly bulge. The black gravel vibrated and crumbled, turning into tiny specks that floated like dust in a zero-gravity zone. But I paid it no mind and started to explore a new direction.


    What does strength mean to me?


    I wasn''t sure.


    Then, why did I want strength?


    I wanted to protect those who couldn''t protect themselves.


    Why protect those who couldn''t protect themselves?


    Because it is the duty of those with strength.


    So, do I lack a true motivation for what I seek?


    No, the choices I make are the true justification for my actions.


    Then, specifically, what have I done?


    I hoped to help Momus. But do I really know what help he needs? Or is this just a projection of my own frustrations, just an excuse to make myself feel better?


    I feel like I successfully helped Piqsirpoq, allowing him to understand himself and this nonsensical world a little bit better, so he could master the stance of a psychic. But was it really my doing?


    If I don''t know what strength is, and I don''t know why I need it, how am I supposed to use it?


    Protect those who cannot protect themselves... For some reason, Piqsirpoq''s back appeared in my mind--he was facing away from me, catching the fruit that was thrown at me.


    So, this is the difference...


    Then let''s step back for a moment, and ask: What is "strength"?


    I lifted my gaze and met Qana''s deep blue eyes.


    The sword master''s figure, his gaze, his back, his posture--each flashed through my memory, and finally, his outstretched hand.


    "Stand up, kid." That''s what he said at the time, right? Somehow, I couldn''t stop the corners of my mouth from lifting into a smile.


    I think when you know nothing, imitation is a good place to start. Imitation, and the attempt to understand.


    I found something.


    It seemed entirely unfamiliar, yet so familiar.


    A clear pulse surged, roaring powerfully.


    I summoned a new wave, resonating with me, and then unleashed it with full force at the boundary where Qana and I were deadlocked.


    Brilliant silver and blue light flashed, followed by a tremendous boom. A large amount of debris flew, raising dust that obscured the entire space.


    I lowered my body, sneaking into the smoke, crouching and slowing my movements. I formed a small bubble-like space around my head to protect my eyes and nose, and I set up a mirrors circle around me, silently moving toward the wall.


    Qana loosened his grip on the field of consciousness--perhaps that last strike had some effect. I wasn''t sure what exactly had happened, but if the structure of the entire room had been damaged, the weapons stored inside the walls might fall out, or at least allow me to reach them. Either way, it was worth a try.


    Twisting the field of consciousness, I extended a few probing tendrils, searching for my target.


    There it was--a longsword that had fallen to the ground! It was a bit far, but I managed to reach it, gently pulling the sword toward me.


    While pulling the longsword with Dominion, I kept a low profile, moving as stealthily as possible. Just as I was about to reach the wall, I caught sight of something unusual out of the corner of my eye.


    There was no sound, not even a change in the trajectory of the dust ahead. It was purely instinct that allowed me to sense the incoming attack from that familiar pressure.


    Winter Chill''s advance exceeded the speed of the wave it generated, compressing all the waveforms at the edge of the blade.


    This should have been impossible.


    But I didn''t try to break Qana''s union of consciousness; I was pretty sure that before I could succeed, I would have been cut in half. So I expanded my field, instantly completing the erosion, directly blocking the slash with consciousness. This was the first time I had used this method to catch a adamantine weapon''s itself. Qana had said that resonance would severely disrupt Dominion, but I had no other choice.


    I gathered all my strength, making a gripping motion with my right hand to aid concentration, and pushed back the broadsword with my consciousness. As I feared, the resonance from Winter Chill disturbed my consciousness field, and I couldn''t generate enough effective output in such a short time to suppress the resonance and affect the weapon.


    So I abandoned this strategy, instead focusing all my energy on drawing the longsword I had just found to my hand as quickly as possible.


    My passive defense circle, like my consciousness field, was disrupted by the resonance, becoming as loose as smoke, as if it didn''t exist at all, offering no resistance to the broadsword''s movement. The only benefit was that I didn''t have to endure the shock that would have been caused if the defense circle had been shattered.


    As the blade drew closer and closer, I knew I wouldn''t make it in time, so I looked inward, trying to slow my blood flow and reduce nerve sensitivity within allowable limits, hoping to lessen the impact of what was to come.


    But when Winter Chill sliced into my right shoulder, the instant pain almost made me pass out. I gritted my teeth and held on. The next moment was the most critical.


    Winter Chill was stained with my blood, cutting through my bone, and embedding itself in my flesh.


    With my collarbone severed, my right hand lost its function and hung limp, so I used my left hand to form a command gesture to assist. Taking advantage of the compression of Winter Chill''s domain caused by contact with my existence circle, I output consciousness to counter the shockwave, sparing me from being blasted to pieces, while successfully grabbing the blade and stopping the slash from cutting deeper.


    Amid the swirling smoke, I couldn''t see Qana''s expression, nor did I sense any emotional fluctuation. But I think he had anticipated this outcome, so there wasn''t much time left.


    As soon as my left palm felt the cold, hard metal, I gripped the hilt and thrust the sword toward Qana.


    By the time I noticed the disturbance in the dust, it was too late. The swordmaster''s boot struck my wrist, forcing me to drop the longsword. I didn''t even have time to prepare a backup move. The next thing that filled my vision was the sole of Qana''s boot.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.2

    The icy, bone-chilling pain jolted me awake. I sat up abruptly, gasping for breath.


    Instinctively, I touched my right shoulder and found the wound had healed. There wasn''t even a scar or any sign of tissue regrowth on my skin. Only the severed fur and the gaping tear in my snow cloak served as proof that a broad sword had once sliced through there.


    "Is it really necessary to make such a mess every time?" I flexed the joints in my right hand, making sure there were no lingering effects. Those herbivores from the Federation really knew what they were doing.


    "You need to get used to this level of injury sooner rather than later," Qana said as he tossed something that looked like a syringe into an opening in the wall. "When it comes to battles between equally matched psychics, the fight only truly begins once you touch their existence circle."


    "Do psychics often fight each other?" I asked as I stood up and stretched my limbs. The nanodrone treatment always left my body feeling a bit stiff, with a dull ache in my muscles and joints.


    "Almost never," Qana said, his face darkening. "But that''s when rules are in place to prevent it." He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, clearly not intending to elaborate further.


    I noticed that the broad sword had quieted down again, no longer emitting that intense resonance.


    "Is there any chance... uh..." I scratched my chin and pointed my ears toward the sword, speaking cautiously, not wanting to sound too foolish. "That Winter Chill might get... addicted to my blood or something?"


    "No, that''s not a thing," Qana growled, somewhere between irritation and exasperation, as he gripped the hilt.


    I swore I saw the pommel of the sword flicker for a moment, hoping it was just my imagination.


    "Did I pass?" I asked, scratching my ears, feeling like my question was a bit audacious. Unable to bear Qana''s gaze, I turned my face to the side.


    In doing so, I noticed that the room was... repairing itself. Black fragments of varying sizes moved slowly, like a line of ants, fitting themselves back into the cracks in the walls and floor.


    That brought a question to mind.


    "If you stopped saying stupid things, you''d probably pass," Qana said, crossing his arms with a hint of displeasure. "But now, I need to reconsider."


    When the sword master was in this kind of mood, arguing only made things worse. So, I lowered my ears and tail, adopting a submissive posture to try and keep the conversation going.


    "Can psychic power be used for healing?" I asked, watching the cracked parts of the floor slowly mend themselves.


    "It can," Qana hesitated slightly. "But almost no psychic dedicates themselves to that, and there''s a very clear reason why."


    He lifted the hem of his cloak, revealing several more syringes attached to his belt.


    "Medical pods are generally sufficient, and the only cases nanodrones can''t handle are those involving immediate death. Besides, the interference from the existence circle can''t be ruled out. Even if someone did manage to master this highly complex skill, there wouldn''t be many practical opportunities to use it." Qana shrugged. "Of all the Grays I know, few can heal themselves with their powers, let alone someone else."


    "Oh..." I couldn''t hide the disappointment in my voice.


    "Why do you ask?" Qana inquired.


    "Because..." I reached out with my consciousness to find the long sword from earlier, drawing it to my hand with Domination. "Psychic power is akin to a miracle..." I gripped the hilt with one hand, gently running my fingers along the blade. "Why does it always seem... destructive?" I found its sheath and pulled it over, sliding the sword back in before leaning it against the wall. "Where are the applications of psychic ability for creation?"


    "That''s partly my fault... We don''t have the luxury of time for me to train you fully, so I''ve had to focus on ensuring you can protect yourself." Qana remained silent for a long time before finally answering, though his tone was still hesitant. "The simplest reason is that most psychics aren''t powerful enough. And with existing technology, most issues can be resolved without the need for psychic power, leaving little room for its intervention."


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    I watched as the last black fragment slotted into place, perfectly sealing the cracks without leaving a trace.


    "As for those who are powerful enough..." Qana cleared his throat, shifting his weight to his other foot. "They quickly find themselves entangled in endless webs of conspiracy, with no time to focus on anything else." The sword master tilted his head, his gaze drifting upward. "Of course, in my case, it''s just a lack of talent. I don''t understand anything beyond combat." He smiled, rolling his shoulder to stretch his arm. "Your shockwave was pretty strong!"


    I scratched my ears, still not used to the warm, restless feeling that came with praise.


    "I have a few ideas I''d like to try..." I said cautiously, unsure of how Qana would react.


    "Is that the Gray bloodline talking?" He joked, though I still felt a slight sting, nothing I couldn''t handle. "I probably won''t be able to offer much advice, but don''t hurt yourself..." Qana tilted his head. "...or anyone else," he added.


    "Yes, Master," I said, lowering my head.


    "And..." The sword master hesitated for a long time, visibly struggling with something. "There''s a reason all Delta-level psychics and above are trained to master at least the basics combat. It''s... a responsibility of being a psychic."


    I remained in a bowed position, waiting for Qana to elaborate, but he lapsed into silence.


    "Anyway," he sighed, clearly adding this to the list of "things to explain later." "I think we can consider you passing. The questions you raised prove your qualifications."


    "So Winter Chill does crave blood?" I joked, twitching my ears in his direction.


    "Don''t make me regret it," Qana growled, baring a canine tooth.


    I immediately lowered my ears again, assuming a submissive posture, but couldn''t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.


    "Although, it is true that adamantine weapons do recognize their users and can adjust their form based on the user''s physique." Qana gestured for me to follow him, indicating that today''s lesson was over as he moved to leave the room. "If there''s such a thing as living metal, adamantine comes close."


    "Can I name my sword, or how do I set command words?" I tried not to sound too eager, like an inexperienced pup, but I couldn''t help myself. At least my tail wasn''t wagging uncontrollably.


    "That''s not how it works," Qana chuckled. "There are a few absolute rules when it comes to using a complete adamantine weapon: you can only acquire a adamantine weapon by gift or by earning it. In other words, a adamantine weapon is either a gift or a prize, so the name isn''t for you to decide."


    He waved his hand, and as the hidden sliding door opened, he stepped out with large strides. I followed, stepping back out into the cold, snowy outdoors, putting on my goggles and extending the ice claws of my snow boots.


    "This has to do with the forging process of a complete adamantine weapon, but that''s my concern," the sword master turned back, giving me a deliberately mysterious smile. "Also, command words aren''t something you ''set''--you have to wait for the weapon to tell you."


    "So Winter Chill has a consciousness of its own?" I asked, glancing at the sword master''s blade while brushing away the snowflakes stuck in my fur.


    "Maybe not in the way you''re thinking," Qana tilted his head, pondering. "But if you ask me, my answer is: yes."


    "Can I..." That flash on the sword''s hilt earlier was just a regular physical reaction, right? "Hold Winter Chill?"


    Qana tilted his head at me, offering a smile I couldn''t quite interpret before unbuckling the sword from his waist and handing it to me.


    I''d seen this broad sword countless times--sometimes covered in my blood--but I''d never before had the urge to touch this weapon, which was clearly too heavy and large for me.


    But after learning more about adamantine weapons, I''d grown curious. Especially after Qana said I was qualified to have my own adamantine weapon.


    Taking a deep breath, I tried to grab Winter Chill''s scabbard decisively. Before letting go, Qana expanded his consciousness circle and erected a barrier. Before I could ask about his actions, a peculiar resonance emanated from Winter Chill, sending a shock through my arm and reverberating strongly in my chest.


    "Is this normal?" I asked Qana after recovering from the shock, though I couldn''t take my eyes off Winter Chill. If just holding it through the scabbard felt like this, what would happen if I drew the blade?


    "Normal," the sword master replied, nearly laughing. "Winter Chill remembers you."


    I was about to make a comment about it remembering its favorite flavor, but I felt it--a greeting, a warm, joyful greeting of reunion.


    What?


    "Unless you''re a forger, avoid touching any complete adamantine weapons that have a designated user. It''s dangerous, even if the owner consents." Qana took the broadsword back and secured it at his waist again. "We know too little about the properties of adamantine, and most new discoveries come from..." The swordmaster hesitated, tilting his head slightly, as if reconsidering his words. "...from terrible accidents."


    "Then why was nothing wrong when Momus touched Winter Chill?" I recalled the morning after the preliminaries, when Qana had finally caved in to the incessant pleading and allowed the wolf cub to hold Winter Chill for a moment before we parted ways.


    "He''s not a psychic," Qana snorted. "Adamantine can interact with the wave of consciousness, but non- psychic generally don''t trigger any special effects." He glanced at me, continuing, "With your level of power, I wouldn''t be surprised if it caused an explosion big enough to vaporize this island."


    "Oh..." I scratched my ear, noticing that Qana had released his domain, allowing another question to take shape. "Why do we know so little about the properties of adamantine, yet so much about its applications?" Logically, it should be the other way around. Unless...


    "Adamantine is a gift," Qana tilted his head slightly. "At least, ''they'' think it''s a gift." He tapped his fingernail lightly on the hilt of his sword. "I''m not so sure."


    Whenever Qana mentioned ''them,'' he rarely wanted to go into detail, so I decided not to press the matter further.


    "I thought creating a sonic boom with a slash was impossible," I said, recalling the earlier incident and how I had reflexively deployed my domain to neutralize the impact. Maybe I really am good at this?


    "It''s impossible with the mass of a longsword, but Domination has some interesting applications." Qana shrugged and drew a circle in the air with his finger. "I slowed down the speed of sound, rather than speeding up the slash."


    "It''s all relative..." I murmured. This was nearly like creating a universe where one''s will reigned supreme within a limited area. And I could do it too.


    Qana nodded at me, without adding anything more, and we continued walking side by side for a while.


    "Achoo!" Suddenly, a particularly cold gust of wind blew past, and I sneezed reflexively.


    "I thought the nanodrones would handle viruses." Qana glanced at me. "Are you cold?"


    "It''s the blood vessels... Achoo!" I covered my nose, trying to warm the air I was inhaling to ease the symptoms. My fur puffed up reflexively, which only irritated me further. "It''s not... because... Achoo!" This kind of reaction would cause muscle contractions in other parts of the body, quickly warming me up--but it only made me more irritated.


    I was sneezing every couple of seconds, constantly interrupting myself, helplessly brushing the fur on the tip of my muzzle.


    Qana raised an eyebrow at me, as if contemplating something. But in my current state, I couldn''t respond, let alone attempt spatial etching. Damn allergies!


    Just as I was about to internally probe and force my nasal blood vessels to dilate, a wave of warmth enveloped me. Qana had draped his cloak over me, and the wind and snow redirected away from us--Qana had expanded his shielded domain, controlling the airflow around us.


    I shot Qana a questioning look, only to sneeze three more times in quick succession.


    "It''s an acceptable risk," the swordmaster said with a shrug.


    Since I clearly couldn''t speak at the moment, I decided to keep holding my nose, staying close to Qana, feeling the lingering warmth of his cloak and the fur on my body gradually settling back down. In this space, enveloped by the overwhelming warmth, I watched the snowflakes dance around us.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.3

    As the dawn broke over the distant horizon, a series of crimson hues painted the sky, blending gradually into the blue as they stretched upwards. High above, where the clouds intercepted the golden rays, the light refracted through ice crystals, creating a faintly visible halo of seven radiant colors.


    I hung from the metal rod protruding from the balcony, taking in the stunning view. It would be too bright soon, so I let go with my left hand, retrieving a pair of dark-tinted goggles from my pocket and putting them on.


    Was that... hesitant footsteps I heard? I turned my ears towards the sound, confirming the identity of the approaching figure.


    "Hey," I decided to break the ice, swallowing all the hesitant filler words that came to mind. We hadn''t had a chance to talk since that chaotic scene last time.


    "Hey," Piqsirpoq responded, leaning against the doorway, not stepping onto the balcony. He crossed his arms, directing his gaze towards the sunrise.


    "I think it''s beautiful," I ventured, gathering my courage--after all, he had taken the first step. "This is my favorite shade of blue."


    Piqsirpoq tilted his head, then put on his dark goggles as well, walking over to join me.


    Is your favorite blue the kind that''s not really blue?


    "I''d say it''s..." I pondered, searching for the right words, "a blue with more layers."


    Piqsirpoq didn''t reply, but his tail swayed gently twice. Then he turned around, leaping up to grasp the end of the metal rod.


    "Move over a bit." He flicked his tail to adjust his position, and I did the same, making space for him.


    We fell into silence again, as I couldn''t think of anything to say. When you''ve spent most of your life without normal conversations with peers your age, it''s no surprise that your social skills aren''t exactly great. But thinking back to a year ago, I would have preferred if we never spoke. Maybe, in some ways, things have improved a lot.


    "Is your Ice Claw footwork really that bad?" Piqsirpoq cut straight to the point, stating it with a teasing tone, probably not wanting to embarrass me too much.


    "Oh... yeah." I felt my ears droop and heat up. "I always lag behind in cross-country runs, so I never had to use complex footwork." I never really thought about it--I only kept up because I was following a path someone else had already cleared--Piqsirpoq''s path. "How did you know?" I had an inkling but wanted to confirm it.


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    "All the young wolves on Hadrian''s Wall are mimicking your awkward moves. It''s become some new kind of dance trend." I could hear the suppressed laughter in Piqsirpoq''s voice.


    "How was I supposed to know Qana would suddenly make me lead..." I muttered in complaint, trying to erase the disastrous scene from my mind.


    "Don''t you want to lead?" Piqsirpoq asked, changing his grip to face me.


    "No." I lowered my gaze. That should be obvious, right?


    "But," Piqsirpoq said, his tone soft in a way that felt unfamiliar, "you can lead."


    I shifted my grip, trying to distract myself and relax a bit. But in the end, I decided to raise my head and meet Piqsirpoq''s gaze.


    "And it should be easy for you, right? That... what''s it called... psychic stance?"


    "Qana just scolded me, saying it''s useless without physical strength." I noticed, to my annoyance, that my tail was veering to the left, so I deliberately swayed it to the other side. "You know I have poor stamina," I mumbled.


    "Want me to teach you?" No disdain, no criticism--just a simple question.


    "What?" I wasn''t sure if I was surprised or what. I didn''t even know why I asked--it might have just been to fill the silence in my mind.


    "Ice Claw footwork, and other breathing techniques, plus endurance training," Piqsirpoq quickly replied, clearly not bothered by my ungrateful attitude. "And I usually run alone in the morning. It''s kind of boring."


    I didn''t know how to respond--the answer was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn''t say it. Was this really happening?


    "Rationalism! Looking at you, I''d have thought it was easy." Piqsirpoq released his grip, landing on the ground, and rubbed his palms together. "How do you manage to hold on for so long?"


    "Uh..." That was a good question, and I thought I had a pretty good answer ready. "Practice makes perfect?" I let go as well, landing lightly. Piqsirpoq''s response was a soft laugh.


    "So, what do you say?" he asked again. "I''d like to have something I can... teach my brother."


    If it were snowing right now, we could probably hear the sound of the snowflakes falling.


    Piqsirpoq''s pale blue eyes, as cool as a frozen lake, stared at me, waiting quietly for my answer.


    "I think..." I had told so many lies that I feared I''d forgotten how to tell the truth. But I think I could start practicing. "Practice makes perfect."


    Piqsirpoq gave me a smile, the morning sun casting a golden glow behind him.


    "The techniques for Wolf Path, Fast Pace, and Short Steps are all different." Piqsirpoq demonstrated a specific posture, digging his boots into the snow, kicking it aside repeatedly, forming a solid structure from the snowdrift. "The Wolf Path is meant to assist the team, allowing those behind to follow effortlessly--it''s the responsibility of the lead."


    I tried to mimic his movements, stepping into the footholds he carved out, reinforcing the structure of the Wolf Path.


    "This takes a lot of stamina, so usually, five wolves take turns, with the lead and their beta partner sharing the duty." He moved aside, signaling for me to take his place and move forward. "I''ve got my team, but I think we should focus on just one thing for now."


    Piqsirpoq didn''t need to spell it out--we both knew it was almost impossible to find other Snows willing to help me. So I simply followed his guidance, practicing the Ice Claw footwork, though my movements were clumsy--I was really bad at moving in the snow. What method had Qana used?


    "You should also be able to judge the thickness and hardness of the snow," Piqsirpoq explained from behind me. "I found that psychic powers can sense that information, which is very helpful for determining where to step and what type of footwork to use."


    It wasn''t until Piqsirpoq explained that I realized I had never noticed it before. Even though inanimate objects don''t generate waves, they respond to them. Like a sonar, every step into the snow provided some information about the surrounding terrain.


    "Not bad!" Piqsirpoq stepped sideways to pass me, speaking with an encouraging tone and a smile. "Now let''s start picking up the pace!"

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.4

    Tripping over tree roots several times, face-planting into the snow, and occasionally tumbling down slopes when Piqsirpoq couldn''t catch me in time--though I always managed to stop myself with the ice axe just in time.


    I quickly learned how to avoid the kickback from striking the bedrock and picked up some techniques for moving smoothly on the snow--or as smoothly as one could expect. But the difference in endurance between Piqsirpoq and me was vast, to say the least. My legs, numbed and aching to the point of losing precise control, ultimately became a hindrance.


    "Keep it up, and you''ll soon be a qualified lead runner," Piqsirpoq said, bending over me as I lay motionless in the snow.


    "How soon is ''soon''?" I asked after catching my breath, feeling the snow around my ears start to melt, the cold wetness seeping into my fur.


    "About... one or two years?" Piqsirpoq tilted his head, scratching his ear as he answered.


    "Well, it''s still helpful," I sighed, a bit disheartened, as I tried to sit up. "Thank you for taking the time to practice with me."


    "Think of it as relaxing before the finals," Piqsirpoq said, sitting down beside me, taking off his goggles and fluffing up his flattened fur.


    "Oh," I had almost forgotten about that. "Is it next week?"


    "Yes," he replied softly, leaning back on one hand, gazing ahead.


    The pure white fur around Piqsirpoq''s face swayed with the breeze, dislodging a few snowflakes. I followed his gaze toward the valley in front of us.


    A world of pure white, a landscape of silver with no trace of... impurities. Everything was buried under snow; all that remained were solid outlines.


    No boundaries, no edges, no... distinctions. Just endless white.


    "Actually, I''m a bit..." Piqsirpoq began, his voice slow as he adjusted the fur on his cheeks and put his dark goggles back on. "...nervous."


    "Oh," I responded, not wanting to seem uninterested. "I thought you were in the lead?" Ah, maybe I shouldn''t have said "you." But it was too late.


    "We are in the lead, but Nyx is close behind," Piqsirpoq said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore my slip. " Olethros is a tough competitor." He spoke with a slight smile.


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    "But it shouldn''t affect you too much, right?" I licked my nose to keep it moist. "Qana said that as long as nothing too strange happens, you''ll definitely become a candidate for Elector, even if Snow loses in the selection."


    "Did the master say that?" Piqsirpoq turned to me, tilting his head. Although his goggles covered his eyes, I was sure he had raised an eyebrow.


    "Yeah," I recalled the scene. "I thought it was common knowledge in Hadrian''s Wall."


    "Oh..." Piqsirpoq turned back, and I noticed his tail tip flick quickly a few times. "But I still have to think of the other team members; it will affect their evaluations too."


    "But you''re the leader," I tilted my head at Piqsirpoq, folding down my right ear, sounding confused.


    "Eh, what do you mean by that?" He chuckled and playfully punched my arm.


    "I mean..." I struggled to find a way to not sound like a jerk. "Ultimately, isn''t this about you?"


    "Uh..." Piqsirpoq scratched his head, looking rather embarrassed. "You could say that, but we''re a team." He lifted his head and sniffed the wind. "The strength of the pack lies in our cooperation."


    "Oh..." I responded simply, mimicking Piqsirpoq''s actions, lifting my head to let the tiny snowflakes fall on my nose, where they melted.


    "Sorry, I..." He sighed, his ears drooping. "I know you can''t fully understand..." His mouth hung open, as if unsure how to continue. "I..."


    I didn''t know how to respond either. The harmony of the pack depends on excluding deviant individuals. So doesn''t that mean... doesn''t that mean...


    "I''ll do better," Piqsirpoq said, breaking my train of thought. "I want to create a world where everyone can belong." His tone was gentle, white mist escaping his mouth with every word.


    "Oh..." Hearing him say this felt a bit odd. Even though I had seen him curled up on the balcony, crying, it still felt strange. "I think... that''s admirable." I said softly, unable to shake the feeling that I was an outsider all along, yet I could still sense the sincerity in Piqsirpoq''s words.


    " Olethros told me things I had never considered before." Piqsirpoq stood up, extending his right hand to me. "I truly believe there should be more frequent and comprehensive exchanges between the different factions."


    The image of another wolf, all black, flashed through my mind--his yellow eyes nearly golden from certain angles. While I agreed that more frequent exchanges would definitely benefit everyone, I still didn''t know what to say to Piqsirpoq, so I just took his hand and stood up.


    "I will reshape this world with my will," Piqsirpoq declared with unwavering confidence.


    I began to understand why everyone held such high regard for him and had such great expectations. When he said those things, you could feel that he genuinely believed he could do it. And that kind of conviction made you believe it too.


    "And what about the ''let them all go to hell'' part?" I joked, trying to change the subject. I wasn''t sure if I was ready to believe that a society with such massive inertia could be fundamentally changed. That''s something entirely different from individuals willing to make certain attempts--society... that''s a completely different beast.


    But...


    I lifted my head, watching countless snowflakes tumble and drift, finally merging into the boundless sea of white.


    Countless, tiny snowflakes.


    "I''ll definitely add that to my to-do list," Piqsirpoq said, his mock-serious expression making me laugh.


    The snow continued to fall, covering our previous tracks as if the world were erasing the proof of our existence.


    "Beta, keep up!" Piqsirpoq''s call snapped me back to reality. "Your Alpha needs you!" He was already retracing our steps, following the path we had taken.


    I scratched my ear, trying to ease the slight awkwardness, but I soon realized that I didn''t really mind.


    So I followed the solid path Piqsirpoq had packed down, catching up to him.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.5

    "...Two thousand years have passed, and yet the off-target effects of gene editing tools remain unresolved. The most advanced technology we have today is the Federation''s nanodrone system, but even that requires an original template to function," Master Faurik paced slowly back and forth on the podium, his tail swaying with each step. "This is yet another piece of evidence that reveals to us just how profound and unfathomable the mysteries of the Rationalism truly are, far beyond the scope of our understanding!"


    Today, there were more students asleep than awake, and those who were awake looked as though they might doze off at any moment. Like in past "recovery periods" between the preliminaries and the finals, everyone was still caught up in the excitement of the previous events, while eagerly anticipating next month''s finals. There was no energy left to spare for mundane matters--like attending class.


    The Masters had mostly adopted a hands-off approach, even Qana. Occasionally, a Master would complain directly to the sleepy young wolves, wondering aloud why the break couldn''t be extended to three months. But most of the time, the Masters chose to gloss over less important or particularly disliked subjects during this period. I was probably the only one who noticed that Master Faurik had rolled his eyes at his own words for the third time today.


    So when the Master dismissed the class and exited the lecture hall, hardly any of the wolves reacted.


    "Master!" I quickly gathered my things and hurried into the hallway, calling after him.


    "Ah, Richter." The Master turned around, his expression weary. "Is there something you need?"


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    "I have some questions..." I noticed the impatience in the frequency of his tail''s movements, so I decided to get straight to the point. "About your colleague at Oceanus Procellarum University. What if there was another ''intern,'' a Nyx with episodic memory..."


    "Has Qana come up with a new idea?" Master Faurik raised an eyebrow at me.


    "Qana?" I tilted my head, confused.


    "Well, it was his suggestion in the first place," the Master said with a shrug. "But I suppose this might not involve him. Qana should be well aware that even if he pressured Nyx, convincing the Library of Alexandria to give up a episodic memory- member is practically impossible." He narrowed his eyes at me, as if a multitude of thoughts were flashing through his mind.


    I stood there with my mouth slightly open, unable to deliver the speech I had prepared. Although I had suspected this outcome, my ears and tail still drooped uncontrollably.


    Still, learning that Qana had been involved in this matter was a bit surprising.


    " Oceanus Procellarum University would certainly be interested in a Nyx with episodic memory, but the key is Nyx''s own intentions," Master Faurik emphasized again. "If you really want to make something happen here, Qana''s influence far outweighs mine. You should talk to him." The Master waved me off, signaling that he was too tired to deal with anything further, and then he left.


    Well, it was clear that Master Faurik had his own concerns, so it seemed I would have to talk to Qana after all. Though I wasn''t entirely sure how to go about "pressured," it sounded like something the swordsmanship Master would excel at.


    Qana had mentioned that he would be very busy during this time, so perhaps it would be better to wait until after the selection process was fully over to bring this up? I had hoped to have some kind of answer to share with Aether and the others next time we met, but it looks like that will have to be postponed.


    Now that I have to talk to Qana, does that make things easier?


    I replayed Qana''s interactions with Momus in my mind, pondering whether this would make things simpler or more complicated.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 6 - Air Conditioning and Barbarians 6.6

    "Hey, hey, hey, that''s not good enough!" Piqsirpoq kicked the sole of my shoe, grinning as he spoke.


    I was too exhausted to respond, lying flat on my back with my arms and legs splayed out. My tongue hung out as I panted, occasionally catching a snowflake as I inhaled.


    "Fifteen kilometers, and it''s just the standard route," Piqsirpoq continued, still stretching and cooling down as he made his snide comments.


    I wanted to point out his advantage of having a highly efficient aerobic metabolism, but my lungs felt like they were about to burst, my throat was parched, and my legs were on the verge of cramping. It wasn''t exactly the best time for self-pity, so while I couldn''t sit up, I kept working on regulating my breathing.


    What did having half-Gray lineage give me? I opened my palms and held them up in front of my eyes, disappointed once again to confirm that I hadn''t inherited those solid yet nimble hands that Grays were supposed to have.


    We were on an outcropping below the training grounds, a platform rarely used except as an alternate route for the occasional cross-country run. So I figured we didn''t have to worry about being disturbed.


    After a long while, I finally managed to control my limbs again. I sat up, using my teeth to open the hidden pocket on my left sleeve, pulling out the straw to rehydrate and soothe my parched, sore throat. Since the water bladder was strapped to my back, the liquid was warm, matching my core body temperature as it went down.


    After drinking enough, I tucked the straw back in and fastened the pocket. Tilting my head back, I propped myself up on my hands and took a deep breath.


    The snow was thick, so the texture was... interesting. I clenched my fist, feeling the crystals crunch in my hand.


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    At that moment, the snowfall seemed to pick up a bit. I squinted slightly, imagining that I could focus on the distant gray clouds and observe the process of the water vapor crystallizing.


    They say you can''t find two identical snowflakes. Has anyone ever really tried? I shifted my focus to the transparent crystals drifting down, pondering this question.


    Countless... tiny snowflakes...


    A cold sensation exploded on the side of my face, wet and chilly liquid soaking into my fur. For a moment, I was too stunned to react, staring in shock at Piqsirpoq.


    "Aren''t psychics supposed to be more sensitive?" he laughed heartily, tossing another snowball at me while conjuring three more in the air.


    "Qana said..." I raised my arm to block the snowball, which splattered across my face. "Stop it!" Piqsirpoq ignored my plea. "Qana..."


    "Isn''t here!" he challenged, tail raised, hurling several more snowballs my way. I could only manage to get a mouthful of snow.


    In the chaos, I burst out laughing.


    You brought this on yourself.


    I expanded my consciousness, gathering the snow to form a massive snowball, a cubic meter in size.


    "W-Wait a minute!" Piqsirpoq''s mouth dropped open, ears flattened, and his tail tucked between his legs.


    As he turned to flee, I swung my right hand, launching the enormous snowball at him. I felt a sense of triumph as I heard Piqsirpoq let out a strangled yelp before disappearing into the snowdrift.


    But suddenly, a faint sound caught my attention, like a sharp prick to my senses. I immediately turned toward the source, ears pricking up as I slowly rotated, listening carefully in all directions.


    "What''s wrong?" Piqsirpoq crawled out of the snowbank, noticing my sudden alertness. He moved more cautiously, lowering his voice as he approached me.


    "I''m not sure..." There were just a few Himalayan juniper, covered in snow, growing low and sprawling over the ground at this altitude, like waves flowing over the earth. "It might be my imagination."


    I scanned the surroundings, confirming that aside from the snow, there were only scattered rocks and enormous trees. In such an open area, it would be nearly impossible for someone to hide.


    "Probably just too tired," I said, turning to Piqsirpoq and scratching my ears, trying to relax.


    "Some say ''practice makes perfect,'' you know," he responded with a grin, shrugging. I noticed his mouth continued to move, but I couldn''t hear a sound.


    What?


    There was no time to think; the world plunged into darkness.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - Phantom

    Phantom: That... was something that had looked back from the abyss.


    "Oww!" Luther let out a yelp as I jabbed the blood draw needle into his forearm.


    "Don''t be so dramatic." The green ring at the top of the blood collection tube lit up, indicating we had enough of a sample. "Quit acting like a puppy." I removed the glass tube and gave it a quick shake to mix the sample with the anticoagulant.


    "You just suck at this!" Luther grumbled, frowning as he used his willpower to close the wound and stop the bleeding while loosening the tourniquet on his bicep.


    "I do not." My arm was throbbing with waves of pain, but I refused to admit it.


    I placed Luther''s blood sample in the rotary shaker, then retrieved my own tube from the machine, unscrewed the cap, and inserted it into the analyzer, watching the probe dip in to extract a sample.


    "Isn''t it weird for you to do these things yourself?" Luther asked, resting his chin on my shoulder from behind. "There are plenty of doctors on the ship, aren''t there?"


    "I enjoy these... activities. They help me relax." The analyzer showed the serum separation in progress. I forced myself to cross my arms over my chest, trying not to fidget with my hands, which felt awkward no matter where I placed them. Damn, I really needed those vanished pockets right now! "Besides, I don''t think it would help morale for the medical officers to know that their admiral has emotional control issues."


    "I thought you agreed that open and honest communication between team members is essential for effective missions," Luther said in a slightly sarcastic tone, as if challenging me, though he didn''t raise his tail.


    "I''m their protector, not the other way around." I stated the fact, and Luther responded with a disgruntled grunt that probably meant something like, "If you say so."


    The screen began to display data, pulling my focus away from everything else, so I didn''t respond.


    "Didn''t you say that using our abilities doesn''t affect us physically?" Luther seemed determined to distract me, throwing more questions my way.


    "It''s not the abilities themselves that affect us." Normal... normal... normal. "It''s the feeling of omnipotence, the idea that you can destroy worlds with a snap of your fingers, that you''re somehow superior to everyone else." I switched to the next screen, continuing to review the data.


    "I know a few people like that..." Luther muttered.


    "Everything''s normal." I sighed in relief, leaning back in my chair. The stress hormone levels were close to critical, but I''d say it wasn''t a big deal.


    "Are you sure you don''t need a break?" Luther pointed to the cortisol levels. "You look pretty stressed." Damn it, how does he know? Did I explain it to him? Am I already at the age where I forget what I''ve said? Damn it, stop it, cortisol!


    "No need." I clicked my tongue in mild annoyance, putting Luther''s blood sample into the analyzer. "Have you decided on your major yet?"


    "You always do this when you know you''re wrong," Luther lazily rubbed his head against my shoulder. "Change the subject right away."


    "I don''t." I sighed, reading Luther''s report. "You''re the one changing the subject."


    He let out a monosyllabic protest, stood up straight, and started pacing aimlessly around the living room.


    "Is it really that hard?" After confirming that Luther''s indicators were all normal, I let the analyzer destroy our samples, then powered off the machine.


    "It''s just..." He scratched his head violently, continuing to pace back and forth. "Is it really that important?"


    "One day, the Imperial Fleet will under your command." I spoke in a calm tone, trying not to make it sound weird every time I mentioned it. "So yes, it is important."


    "Arthur would be happy to take over. Why does it have to be me?" Luther muttered, quickening his pace. "And you''ve still got ten years in you, right?"


    "Arthur is more than ten years older than me." His confused expression was almost endearing, making me laugh at an inappropriate moment and nearly forgive his rudeness--damn those puppy eyes. "Indulge me for a bit, okay? I don''t have anyone else to rely on." I forced the bitterness out of my voice, wondering if I had ever imagined myself saying something like this at forty--was this what a midlife crisis felt like?


    Luther''s posture shifted restlessly, crossing his arms and raising his chin and tail stubbornly.


    This mutt always knew how to hit my soft spots in various ways, and now I just wanted to tickle his belly like crazy and listen to those adorable whimpers.


    Damn it, boundaries during duty hours!


    I shook my head vigorously, refocusing, determined to keep up the pressure, but those big brown eyes staring back at me immediately crushed my resolve. I could only sigh, swallowing the words that had been on the tip of my tongue. I guessed Luther wasn''t ready to know yet, and I wasn''t ready to tell him that the Empire''s Heart was built for him.


    "Imagine, once you become admiral, you can order those jerks you hate to scrub the deck with a toothbrush." I cracked a small joke, unable to control the smile creeping up my face.


    "Oh, is that so?" Luther rolled his eyes at me, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Will I get a cool title too?"


    "I''m struggling to think of anything that would suit." I tilted my head, trying to envision the image in my mind. "No matter what word you pair with ''mutt,'' the moment loses all its grandeur." Luther turned his head away in displeasure, letting out a huff at my assessment.


    "I wouldn''t mind using yours," Luther mumbled, so softly that it made me raise an eyebrow.


    "You wouldn''t mind?" Well, I suppose taking on a title is quite different from taking on a fleet.


    "Storm... it just sounds..." He tilted his head, then shrugged. "It just sounds cool."


    "But storms only bring destruction." I said softly, my throat beginning to dry up again.


    "Oh, storms do a lot more than that!" Luther suddenly seemed interested, ears perking up. "Did you know that storms create powerful disturbances that can stir up deep, cold water, preventing coral bleaching? And they help maintain forest health, drive ecological succession, and cycle nutrients in both terrestrial and ocean ecosystems!"


    I tilted my head at Luther, watching the tip of his tail wagging rapidly. It reminded me of some fond memories from my younger days.


    "So storms don''t just destroy; they also bring life. They''re pretty awesome!" Luther met my gaze and then, somewhat sheepishly, lowered his head, scratching his ear. "At least, that''s what Ian says."


    Seeing him like this was... heartwarming. I didn''t really want to ruin the mood, but I thought it was always better to be honest about who we truly were.


    "On Gaia, storms do work like that." I said gently, not wanting to sound like I was raining on his parade. "But the title was given by the Federation."


    Luther''s head tilted slightly, his expression stiffening.


    "Have you ever seen a storm on Ares?" I raised my right hand in front of my eyes, rubbing my fingers together gently. "Where the storm passes, nothing remains."


    Luther looked at me silently with those big brown eyes, a touch of sadness in his gaze. Was he... pitying me, or was it for some other reason?


    Before I could voice my question, the living room was bathed in a red glow, accompanied by the blare of mechanical alerts.


    "Level Two Red Alert, Gamma-Class Phantom! Level Two Red Alert, Gamma-Class Phantom!"


    "Damn it!" I cursed, activating my personal terminal. "Destroyer squadron, what''s happening?"


    "Admiral, the Phantom mothership somehow evaded detection. The fleet is estimated to enter its patrol range in one minute!" the on-duty radar officer replied. Other captains began to join the meeting, their avatars appearing one by one along the screen''s edges, while the center displayed a tactical projection of the fleet''s ships and the Phantom''s location.


    Damn, too close. Before I can stop the Phantom, it will inevitably engage with the fleet. This is unacceptable! But a Gamma-Class must have a leader, and if I issue a challenge, it has to respond.


    "All ships, evade! Do not engage! Let the Empire''s Heart handle this!" I ordered, then expanded my consciousness to fully envelop the Empire''s Heart, synchronizing with the outermost drones. I emitted a unique resonant pulse, making myself appear as a brilliantly shining beacon within the mental domain. "I''ll intercept in the training room. Leader challenge."


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    I retracted the terminal into my arm and summoned "Gray Snow" from the storage compartment.


    "Bring Aether with you," I instructed Luther as I felt the resonance of Gray Snow greeting me. "But don''t interfere unless the other crew members are in danger and I can''t divide my attention. " As soon as I finished speaking, Luther summoned Aether from his room and took it in hand. "And absolutely do not expand your consciousness--you''re not ready yet."


    Luther seemed to understand the seriousness in my tone and nodded earnestly.


    I suppose it''s about time I explain what the Phantoms really are.


    The moment we stepped into the hallway, the Empire''s Heart shook violently.


    "Phantom boarding pods have breached the armor! Starboard, Section Alpha-3, compromised and sealed!" the voice of a crew member on the bridge came through the terminal, sounding anxious.


    "Arthur, you know what to do. Lead them to the training room," I said, taking a sharp turn at an intersection. "And all crew, avoid that area--engagement is forbidden. If any idiot tries to play hero, I''ll make sure their only job until the next landing ceremony is peeling potatoes."


    "What''s a potato?" Luther asked beside me.


    "Some sort of tuber," I replied, glancing at the directional indicators on the wall and sensing the pulses within the mental domain to confirm the Phantom''s position. "Basically, it''s a punishment similar to cleaning the food synthesizers."


    I drew Gray Snow, while Luther tilted his head, likely digesting this new information.


    The source of the unique resonance was just ahead--two of them.


    Lowering my stance, I pressed close to the deck and shot forward. I lightly pushed off the ground below, then kicked off forcefully, changing my direction just in time to dodge several conical projectiles. Using the momentum of my spinning body, I swung Gray Snow in a wide arc, slicing cleanly through the object that had just entered the corridor from around the corner, cutting it in half.


    Metal fragments of various sizes clattered to the ground with a series of sharp impacts. I landed softly on the deck, crouched slightly, and set up a defensive barrier, deflecting two high-energy plasma shots. The bright, pale-purple orbs quickly dissipated in the air.


    Seeing that its firepower had failed, my attacker decided to try a different tactic. It retracted its side-mounted cannons into a dark, oval body brimming with glowing red components and began advancing toward me with dozens of metallic tendrils attached to it. These long tendrils, each with hundreds of joints, were made of the same non-reflective metal as its main body and ended in a variety of tools--the most common being sharp, coldly gleaming claws.


    It encroached on my domain, then immediately began spinning like a top, slashing at me with its claws as it charged.


    The Gamma-Class''s tactics were as straightforward as ever.


    I pushed off the ground with my toes, leaping into the air and twisting my body to evade the blades. As I came over the dark shell, I activated my defensive barrier to block the various projectiles it fired at me. Within the domain, I identified several containing explosive charges and promptly cut all the fuses with a half-sword. Before landing on the oval body, I switched Gray Snow to a reverse grip, held the hilt with both hands, and thrust downward, piercing through the barrier and metal shell, driving the blade deeper until I was certain I had destroyed the core.


    The red light faded, the tendrils went limp, and the main body crashed onto the deck.


    I withdrew Gray Snow, jumped down from the wreckage, and landed back on the ground.


    "Is this... a Phantom?" Luther asked, his voice tinged with awe as he walked up beside me.


    "No," I replied, pointing to the first wreckage I had sliced in two. "That''s more like a Phantom''s... minion." I found what I was looking for and used my Domination to pull it into my hand. It was a silver-white sphere, now split in two.


    "In most cases, they have a ''core'' located at the center of their body, though sometimes it''s elsewhere." I set the two halves aside and pointed at the wreckage with my sword, explaining to Luther. "As long as you inflict enough damage on the core, the ''Squid'' will lose its mobility."


    "This is... adamantine!" Luther exclaimed, poking the metallic hemisphere with his finger.


    "Yes, this is our primary source of adamantine," I gestured for him to follow me. "We can retrieve it later--it won''t run away." Luther walked alongside me, clearly brimming with questions. "Gamma-Class Phantoms can even extract exotic matter, so in a way, we''re quite lucky."


    Thanks to the extended range of my mental domain, I managed to destroy the cores of two more Squids in subsequent encounters before they could even react.


    "The next one''s for you to practice with," I said to Luther, sheathing Gray Snow.


    "Really?" Luther drew his sword, Aether, and flexed his wrist. "I thought you said I wasn''t ready yet?"


    "You''re not ready to face a Phantom." I quickly flashed him a series of tactical hand signals, but Luther just tilted his head in confusion. "For the love of Rationalism!" I rolled my eyes. "Remind me to prioritize reviewing tactical signals next time."


    Luther reluctantly grunted in acknowledgment. I took that as a sign he got the message. Picking up my terminal, I pulled up a map of the surrounding area and began explaining the situation to Luther.


    "This one is isolated, and you''re in my domain. If necessary, I''ll intervene." I leaned my back against the partition wall, one hand resting on the sliding door''s control panel. "Think of the Squid as an psychic, because there''s not much difference in what the two can do."


    Luther crouched low in front of the sliding door, holding his sword single-handed, adopting a stance that was close to the Ice Spike form. A surprise attack with a quick finish? It seemed he had been paying close attention earlier. I wondered how well he''d actually perform.


    "Just remember one thing: never expand your consciousness." I reminded him again. Luther nodded, his brown eyes flashing with anticipation and excitement.


    He''s still just a kid at heart, huh? I thought he''d be a bit more nervous. Well, go on then!


    I slammed my fist onto the panel, and the moment the door slid open, Luther shot out, stirring up a gust of wind.


    He''s fast!


    Achieving that kind of speed with just output of basic consciousness was no small feat. Luther was far better at body enhancement than I was. Maybe I should find someone else to guide him in that area; I could barely manage to construct such a wave pattern.


    I had expected the fight to be over in an instant, but the Squid noticed the mutt charging at it and immediately drove three tentacles into the deck, setting up a defensive position. The remaining tentacle tips, along with six barrels extending from its oval body, aimed at Luther.


    In the next moment, a barrage of bullets rained down.


    Since we had already been spotted, I stepped out of cover, maintaining the strength of my defensive field as I cautiously approached the two combatants.


    To call it a fight was an exaggeration--Luther was simply enduring the bombardment.


    I relaxed my defensive field, allowing the passive one to take over, and ignored the impacts rippling across the invisible barrier. Instead, I focused on analyzing the types of ammunition the Squid was firing.


    Gamma-class weapons equipped with adamantine-tipped bullets--I wasn''t sure if Luther had noticed, but I prepared to intercept any shots with Domination if necessary.


    Luther''s movements weren''t as agile as mine, but he dodged left and right, gradually finding the sparsest path through the barrage toward the Squid. Fortunately, his passive defensive field was as solid as a rock. I was confident that even if all the attacks hit him squarely in the front, they''d do little more than obscure his vision.


    The Squid launched two rockets. Luther ducked to avoid the first, then spun his body to slice through the fuse of the second.


    "Hey," I said as the first rocket exploded against my defensive field. I neutralized the shockwave with a binding circle, sweeping away the dust and debris. "Be more precise. You should be protecting those behind you, not causing them trouble." As far as on-the-fly learning goes, that was a decent move, but I''m a tough critic.


    "I was just trying to keep you from getting bored!" he laughed, then moved with a fluid grace. A few silver flashes later, Luther swung his sword in a wide arc, then crouched down, holding the sword in his right hand, with the tip touching the ground beside him.


    He had noticed the adamantine-tipped bullet the moment it left the barrel and deflected it with Aether.


    Was it by recognizing the unique pulse of the adamantine, or was it just instinctive reflex? Either way, that level of sharpness was impressive.


    Before I could say anything, the red light on the Squid''s body faded, and its entire structure collapsed onto the deck. Seeing the incapacitated creature, I finally understood what had happened.


    I''d been too focused on the bullets coming our way and hadn''t noticed the ones being redirected--the moment Aether made contact with the bullets, Luther had used Domination to alter their trajectory, sending them back to the Squid and precisely shattering its core.


    "That... was pretty impressive." I offered genuine praise. "Your Domination is already exceptionally strong, but to be able to sense danger and seize the perfect moment to counterattack--those judgments were outstanding." Normally, such instinctive actions are impossible without significant combat experience.


    Did I... train this mutt too well? What happens when he surpasses me...?


    "Actually, I kind of cheated." Luther sheathed Aether and shook his hand. "Your concern was so palpable; I could practically feel the waves of it." He scratched his ear and glanced aside.


    "Oh." Well, I hadn''t expected that. "Uh..." I gestured for Luther to follow me. "Regardless, that was an excellent performance. You''re almost at the level of a sword master now." Even with the advantage of an ability, that technique and movement would earn Qana''s approval.


    I could tell from the change in air currents that Luther was wagging his tail enthusiastically.


    That simple joy immediately swept away any worries that had been brewing in my mind.


    "If only Aether didn''t hate me so much..." Luther grumbled, fastening the sword to his belt, then shaking out his right hand.


    "Oh?" I tilted my head and glanced at Aether, its matte black hilt and guard resting quietly in the matching scabbard. "You two still aren''t getting along?"


    "It still zaps me, even during actual combat!" Luther complained, gripping the sword hilt. "It did it just now when I missed the first rocket, like it was scolding me... Ow!" Luther let go of the hilt, shaking his left hand.


    "Uh..." I patted Luther''s back, trying to comfort him. "Give Aether some more time. I''m sure you just need to get to know each other better."


    Luther didn''t offer a response, just cast a resentful glance at Gray Snow.


    "Ha, don''t even think about it!" I playfully smacked the back of his head, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Besides, I''m sure Gray Snow would be even stricter."


    We passed through the sliding door and down the final hallway. With my command privileges, I unlocked the sealed area, bringing us to the entrance of the training room.


    "A Gamma-class Phantom isn''t too difficult to handle, but this will be your first time facing one." We stopped in front of the door, and I locked eyes with Luther, emphasizing my point. "Never expand your consciousness circle, no matter what. I''ll explain the rules later."


    No matter how nonchalant Luther seemed in ordinary circumstances, he could be serious when it counted. That was something I found truly reassuring.


    "And one more thing..." I raised my hand, hovering it over the control panel. "I''m not sure... what kind... of version... we''ll encounter." I didn''t have the time to explain the potential situations we might face. I had to focus completely--even a Gamma-class Phantom could present vastly different levels of threat depending on the version. "Remember, our realities cannot overlap."


    Luther clearly didn''t understand what I was saying, but he nodded seriously, adopting a submissive stance that put me slightly more at ease.


    "Alright, here we go." I said softly, and after confirming that Luther was ready, I pressed the sliding door''s control panel.


    Without hesitation, I stepped into the dimly lit room. Although I knew the rules protected us from ambushes by creatures like the Squid, I still remained on high alert, cautiously moving toward the center.


    The training room was in its default state, meaning the center was nothing but open space. A bright beam of light from above illuminated a circular area on the ground.


    I understood that this was our stage.


    "You two must have been busy flirting to take this long." A raspy voice came from the other end of the room, cloaked in darkness. "I almost decided to call you out for breaking the rules."


    "My apologies." I bowed deeply, lowering my ears. "I thought this was a good opportunity for Luther to get familiar with a Squid." I straightened up and rested my hand on my sword hilt.


    "''Squid''?" He chuckled, the raspy sound sending a chill down my spine--at least, the fur on my back was standing on end. "Is that what you call them here?"


    A steady, heavy rhythm echoed as the figure slowly stepped into the light, casting Phantoms across his face.


    "Never mind, I suppose you think I won''t be too harsh with you, huh?" The hem of his crimson coat swayed as the Phantom moved. "I''d forgotten how cute you looked when you''re confused." He tilted his head and flashed a grin at the mutt behind me.


    The sheer shock radiating off Luther was impossible to hide, sending violent ripples through my domain.


    I could only imagine what Luther was feeling. After all, when I first faced a Phantom, I had some idea of what I would see, but Luther didn''t--that was a wolf with pure white fur, a black nose, and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky.


    But a long scar ran above his right eye, slashing across half his face, likely the reason that eye appeared cloudy and milky-white. Both ears also bore a few notches, though I couldn''t tell what had caused them.


    "You gave him the Aether?" Phantom looked Luther up and down, then burst into laughter--a sound like the last gasps of a dying breath, unsettling to hear. "That''s some sick sense of humor." He wiped at the corner of his eye, unbuttoning the collar of his black uniform, and took a few more steps toward me. I noticed he had a slight limp.


    The impaired vision and limp--those might be advantages I could use.


    "Can we get down to business before the chit-chat?" I wasn''t eager to let him spend too much time around Luther or spill something he shouldn''t, so I intended to wrap this up quickly.


    "Hmph, overprotective much?" Phantom spat, but at least he drew his weapon, not refusing the challenge.


    When I saw the bastard sword leave its sheath, I knew this was going to be a tough fight. At least I could be thankful that his power was limited to Gamma level.


    I drew my own sword, assuming the Snow stance, and fixed my gaze on Phantom.


    "Qirnangajuq." I awakened Gray Snow, the powerful resonance rippling through the training room, sending the hem of my coat billowing.


    Phantom''s stance was almost lazy, casually testing his wrist with a couple of swings. Then he nodded in satisfaction, locking eyes with me and flashing a grin that exposed the tips of his fangs.


    "Luther," Phantom whispered, almost tenderly. Violent resonance radiated from the bastard sword in his hand, distorting the space around him.


    We charged at each other, unleashing a storm.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 7 - Resonance 7.1

    Resonance: When frequencies align, they resonate with each other.


    I was alone in the vast darkness, illuminated by a single light. Under it, I danced alone, pouring my entire being into each movement. Every breath, every gesture was a desperate struggle, a furious effort to rise and whirl, embodying the frantic fight for survival.


    Air currents sliced across my skin, brushing against every tiny hair, while my center of gravity shifted with each new pose. There was an unstoppable, crimson pulse coursing through my burning life force.


    I was the eye of the storm. Every wave of motion surged, roared, and crashed around me, creating a chaotic symphony. As long as the curtain hadn''t fallen, the world was my stage, and the stage was my world. And I, I was the focal point of the only light.


    No, this is not right. I lost consciousness and blacked out. Wake up, now!


    Forcing my eyes open, I sat up from the snowdrift, scanning my surroundings, trying to make sense of what had happened.


    Footprints--at least two sets--stretched towards a chaotic depression in the snow. Piqsirpoq had also been knocked down somehow. There were also signs of dragging, and two... no, three sets of footprints.


    One of the footprints grew deeper, and the strides shortened, indicating that the person had lifted Piqsirpoq. Because of this, they had to walk behind the group, revealing the person who was trying to cover their tracks by stepping in their comrade''s footprints. They hadn''t noticed that the depth of the footprints was inconsistent.


    Even from this distance, I could feel a sharp sting in my nose. If I got any closer and tried to sniff the tracks, my nose would probably go numb immediately.


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    After checking my condition, I confirmed that apart from a slight ringing in my ears and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, I was mostly unharmed.


    They had penetrated deep into the Senate''s territory and kidnapped the gray wolf under protection. This was unprecedented! Whatever the kidnappers'' identities or intentions, they definitely weren''t concerned with Piqsirpoq''s welfare.


    I looked up at the gray sky. The snowstorm was worsening. How long would the tracks remain visible? I didn''t know, but it wouldn''t be long.


    I tried to suppress the unsettling rumors that came to mind--those about why the Canine Empire was so dangerous for gray wolves.


    I had to find him, and quickly!


    Removing the terminal from my arm, I saw a web of cracks spreading across the screen. Damn it!


    I focused, constructing a wave pattern from memory to send a signal to Qana.


    No response.


    Damn, if Qana was in a place with an adamantine shield, he wouldn''t receive anything. And even if he did, he was in the Colosseo, more than a hundred kilometers from here!


    The storeroom--the terminal there belonged to the Senate''s network. I could use it to contact the others at Hadrian''s Wall!


    Struggling to my feet, I ran through the thick snow as fast as I could, climbed the steps, crossed the training ground, and frantically tapped the code on the panel outside the storeroom. As soon as the sliding door moved, I slipped inside.


    I tapped the terminal panel twice to wake the mainframe, but I quickly realized the connection to the internal network was severed.


    Damn it, now what?


    I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, considering the nearly useless options I had left, including running the two kilometers back to the nearest facility at Hadrian''s Wall.


    After calling out to Qana again with no response, I reached the only logical conclusion--I was Piqsirpoq''s only hope.


    I didn''t want to dwell on how dire that made the situation. There was no time to be distracted.


    I approached a storage locker and retrieved what I needed--the adamantine-forged Turkish scimitar.


    I hefted it in my hand, synchronizing its vibrations with my own and feeling the low hum in response. Then, infusing it with my consciousness, I swung it through the air, unleashing a slash with the blade''s resonance.


    The shrill whistle of air being cleaved, the ear-piercing screech of twisting metal, and the massive gash carved into the storeroom wall all echoed in response to my action.


    Good, this will work.


    I glanced at the scimitar in my hand, trying to bolster my confidence.


    I just need to... be careful, right?

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 7 - Resonance 7.2

    Matching my breathing to the rhythm of my steps, I adjusted the frequency of my breaths, gauging the terrain beneath the snow by its surface patterns, utilizing the rebound of my strides, and harnessing the pulsating energy to conserve my stamina...


    Every five minutes, I sent a contact wave to Qana, but he still hadn''t responded.


    At the very least, I needed to catch up to them first, then figure out the next step. They couldn''t possibly move faster than I could, but they must have a retreat plan. It''s too impractical to carry Piqsirpoq all the way to the coastline on foot. Most likely, they had a cloaked airship or a swift ground vehicle stationed somewhere.


    I stopped at the foot of a steep scree slope.


    Damn it, the tracks were gone!


    Whether they noticed me or were just being cautious, they had erased their footprints by walking on hard surfaces.


    I scanned the area; the scree slope was vast, far beyond the range of my vision. They could have left from anywhere, and I had no way to track them.


    I took a deep breath, suppressing my anxiety, trying to find a logical solution with a calm mind.


    But then, Piqsirpoq''s image flashed in my mind--reaching out to catch a red berry that flew toward him.


    I had no choice; the situation was urgent.


    I expanded my consciousness and sent out a probing wave.


    I wasn''t sure how far they had gone, or if they had already reached their escape vehicle, so I pushed my output to maximum, covering the nearby mountain ranges.


    I could sense the direction of Hadrian''s Wall, where several surprised feedback waves reached me, including a mental image of Master Ontara spilling tea on his clothes in shock. But this wasn''t the time to care about them.


    The probing wave continued to expand steadily, missing no detail as it swept through the area. I waited anxiously, forcing myself not to get distracted and miss any feedback.


    Countless tiny snowflakes rippled in my consciousness. I tried to merge with them, spinning, drifting, and scattering. I could feel each one clearly...


    There!


    Three unfamiliar canine creatures, and Piqsirpoq''s very familiar waveform.


    I almost cried out in relief, the unease in my heart easing just a little.


    But then, I noticed that less than a hundred meters from them, there was an entire squad. I could''t determine the exact number; something was interfering with my pulse... Adamantine, they had adamantine.


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    This wasn''t something the general public could access, nor would they know that adamantine could disrupt probing waves. There was a reason they chose Piqsirpoq as their target; the unexpected incident at the Colosseo was likely part of this scheme.


    I couldn''t piece together the connection between these clues, and I didn''t care. I was certain that if Piqsirpoqs captors met up with that squad, I might never see him again.


    One last time, I sent a contact wave to Qana, and a probing wave to Hadrian''s Wall. The psychics stationed at the Snow''s territory were clearly too weak; the distance between us prevented them from responding to my wave, but I could sense they were trying to reach someone who could help.


    "Qana." I sent the final wave with this message, then looked in the direction where Piqsirpoq was.


    I didn''t want to make too much noise and alert them from hundreds of meters away. I had to be as cautious as possible.


    Alright then, let''s do this.


    I retracted my ice claws, stowed the ice axe into my boot, and put on my goggles.


    I really wished I had a better understanding of physics and more time to practice my Domination thrust techniques.


    I leaped down the scree slope, neutralizing the friction, letting me slide down faster and faster.


    I split my focus into dozens of fine vectors, occasionally leaping or dodging protruding rocks, mimicking the image of skiing or surfing in my mind. Now really wasn''t the time to regret not being more enthusiastic about outdoor activities.


    At least everything was going smoothly so far. In just a few minutes, I had already... Damn it!


    I must have miscalculated the force distribution on the vectors, causing me to veer off course and kick a jutting rock.


    I went tumbling forward, rolling down the steep slope. I tried to erect a defensive barrier and form a suspension structure around my center of mass, but the rapid rotation made it impossible to issue commands.


    Finally, I reached a gentler slope. I seized the chance to flip over and get to my feet, extending my ice claws and starting to sprint.


    I dominated the surrounding field, causing the air currents to bypass me and reducing the effect of gravity. I employed every technique Qana and Piqsirpoq had taught me, charging at full speed toward what seemed to be some sort of armored vehicle.


    Faster, I had to go faster!


    After getting back on my feet, I had checked with another probing wave. Though a bit blurred, I could roughly determine that there were about twenty people, most of them standing, crammed into a boxy space, holding onto overhead structures for balance. And the vehicle''s tracks were clearly snow-adapted, accelerating steadily. At this rate, I would soon fall behind.


    There weren''t enough footholds nearby to replicate the high-speed movement technique I''d used at the Colosseo, so all I could do was sprint desperately through the snow.


    Faster, come on, faster!


    Finally, I was within a hundred meters of the vehicle. Its outline was faint, clearly equipped with optical camouflage. In the expanse of silver-white snow, if not for the tracks it left behind, it would be nearly impossible to spot.


    I sent out another probing wave, and the news was grim--the vehicle was about to outpace me, and Piqsirpoq had not only regained consciousness but was also struggling fiercely, terrified.


    Alright, caution ends here!


    I expanded my consciousness, trying to seize control of the vehicle, but couldn''t dominate it. The vehicle''s combined consciousness resisted fiercely. There must have been a psychic among them; otherwise, I should have been able to easily suppress the combined consciousness of twenty people. The thoroughness of their preparation confirmed my suspicion that they were some kind of group targeting psychics.


    Just as I was about to retract my consciousness, I felt Piqsirpoq''s fear intensify--a fear of death and what would come before it--pain, excruciating pain, tearing, wounds, blood, so much blood--he was hurt. My brother was on the ground, pinned down by several canine. I couldn''t tell what their intentions were.


    I stopped, maintaining my balance, using the remaining inertia to slide across the snow while drawing the blade from my belt.


    Once more, I confirmed the positions and actions of everyone in the vehicle, feeling Piqsirpoq, bloodied arms raised, assuming a defensive posture, and the captors'' smug, taunting laughter--that made my blood boil.


    The alert wave told me their psychic had noticed me, and I had to act before they could react.


    I attuned my consciousness with the Karabela in my hand, channeling my will into it, resonating with it, extending my presence, making the weapon an extension of myself.


    I amplified my sensory perception to the maximum, analyzing the material of the armored vehicle. Then, with the precision of Glacier stance three, I executed a flawless, unerring slash.


    The intense resonance produced a ripple that etched a pale blue streak in the air, flying toward the vehicle. When the two met, the slash cut through the armor like it wasn''t even there, disrupting the optical camouflage and tearing off the upper half of the vehicle.


    And with it, several bodies, sliced clean in half, heads, torsos, all flying out.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 7 - Resonance 7.3

    For a moment, I didn''t realize what I had done.


    It''s not that I was unaware of the consequences--I knew exactly what would happen. I chose their deaths to prevent Piqsirpoq from meeting a similar fate. But... what I hadn''t anticipated was the surge of emotions.


    Qana never mentioned it, but I should have guessed. It was something like a death tremor or a dying scream, resonating clearly through the conscious domain.


    All the waves were too weak to cause any effect in the physical space, but that... that scream, like a powerful gust of wind, pinned me to the spot, unable to move.


    It was shock, regret, confusion, helplessness. And... the calm acceptance of reality. A calmness like... the surface of a tranquil waters.


    I could feel myself completely relaxed, floating in an almost stagnant state, gently rising and falling in rhythm with my inner waves. Drifting aimlessly, carried by the current.


    A roar snapped me back to reality--Piqsirpoq was struggling to push the debris off of him. I quickly confirmed that three others had survived.


    This wasn''t over yet.


    I cleared all the snow and rubble ahead, creating a straight, flat path and continued running toward them.


    Piqsirpoq was grappling with some kind of canine. The canine was holding something sharp, trying to drive it into his body, while Piqsirpoq dpsychicately held onto its arm, preventing it.


    I extended my consciousness but couldn''t penetrate some kind of barrier... It was blood, along with the scattered organs and limbs. The lingering consciousness on them had formed a sort of unyielding existence circle.


    Such a massive amount of blood had flowed out from inside the vehicle and soaked into the snow. I couldn''t clear it away. So, I grabbed the handle of my Karabela and threw it. I guided its trajectory, ensuring the weapon could continue on its path by inertia after leaving my conscious circle.


    The knife plunged into the canine''s right scapula, eliciting a piercing scream as it and Piqsirpoq, still locked in combat, tumbled off the edge of the vehicle wreckage.


    I was almost at the vehicle when a dog, which had been hiding behind cover, emerged and fired some kind of weapon at me. A barrage of bullets flattened against my defensive circle.


    I didn''t have time to deal with it. After landing inside the vehicle, I casually pushed the dog aside, causing it to stumble and sit down heavily. It looked like a bloodhound, its fur and features were quite recognizable.


    I needed to check on Piqsirpoq; everything else could wait.


    The blood beneath my feet made me slip, nearly tripping over the severed limbs and organs scattered around. I should''ve been more careful, but I hadn''t expected that the existence circle would still be active even after its hosts had died, let alone that they would merge with each other.


    Death treats everyone equally, right?


    The bloodhound struggled to get up as I regained my balance, firing another shot at me. I didn''t want to waste energy on it, not until I noticed several fragments had pierced through my defensive circle, causing a sharp headache that made me momentarily lose focus.


    What the...!


    Even if my consciousness was suppressed by all this messy blood and viscera, my passive defense shouldn''t have collapsed from such an attack. But when the fragments lodged into my body, I understood--they were adamantine. They had made bullets out of adamantine and loaded them into their ammunition.


    The powerful impact knocked me to the ground, rolling several times before I fell off the vehicle and into a snowbank.


    I let out a small groan, uncertain if something had broken or if any organs were damaged. Through the searing pain, I tried to stand, but I could barely manage to roll over.


    I should''ve expected this. If they were targeting Psychics, they''d naturally have prepared more than just methods to avoid or disrupt our detection. I let my guard down, distracted by worry for Piqsirpoq. Qana is going to be furious.


    This feels different from being cut by a sword.


    I tried to channel my consciousness but found it failing. My body... no, the adamantine in my bloodstream was interfering with the formation of my conscious circle--I couldn''t even erect a defensive circle.


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    I lay there, struggling, and saw the bloodhound''s upper body emerge, its black metal barrel aimed at me.


    Damn it. My dull and uneventful life had finally started to get interesting... and now it''s about to end?


    Somehow, this feeling was familiar.


    The damp, cold sensation on my skin made me certain that I had lost enough blood to soak almost all of my fur. Bit by bit, it continued to flow slowly but steadily.


    I tried to move or speak, but quickly realized I was too weak to accomplish either.


    Is this what the end looks like?


    No, absolutely not!


    Watching the bloodhound''s finger tighten on the trigger, I mustered all my strength, trying to summon my consciousness. But I failed again.


    Alright, maybe this really is the end. My unremarkable life, destined to end like this, alone on a cold, unforgiving ground, unnoticed by anyone--except me.


    In the end, I was still alone.


    I was like a leaf drifting on the surface of a tranquil, still waters, quietly waiting to sink into the eternal, endless abyss.


    I kept waiting, but the gun didn''t fire.


    A blade pierced through the bloodhound''s left chest, and I could even see the blade''s tip gleaming. Blood gushed from the hound''s half-open mouth, and after a violent spasm, its body went limp, its expression frozen in its final moment.


    Piqsirpoq discarded the Karabela casually and jumped to my side, crouching down. His fur was matted in clumps, mixed with half-dried blood, making him look utterly disheveled. And his right hand was bent at an unnatural angle.


    Even so, seeing him alive filled me with an overwhelming sense of relief, a lump forming in my throat.


    "Can you stand?" he asked urgently. I could only shake my head weakly in response. "Alright, let''s give it a try, okay?" he encouraged, nudging my face with his snout. "We need to get out of this hellhole quickly. One of them escaped; we don''t know where he is, and he might bring reinforcements."


    I managed a faint nod, and Piqsirpoq used his uninjured shoulder to support me. I don''t know where I found the strength, but with his help, I managed to stand.


    I felt incredibly weak--strangely so. It wasn''t because of my injuries; I had checked earlier. Although I had a few more holes and lost a lot of blood, my major organs were intact, and my limbs were fine.


    It was the adamantine. Somehow, it was harming me. Damn, this stuff is too complicated.


    I focused inward and located some fragments, attempting to expel them, but the searing pain was like my organs being violently twisted. I nearly vomited.


    In the name of Rationalism!


    "Are you alright?" Piqsirpoq noticed me staggering, his voice filled with concern.


    I gave him a smile, not wanting him to worry too much. But I feared that speaking would only cause me to cough up more blood and alarm him further.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something--a gray dog, its body covered in dried blood, giving it the appearance of having reddish-brown spots. But more importantly, the dog was holding the bloodhound''s weapon, pointing it at us.


    Damn it, that Psychic! He shielded himself, and I didn''t notice!


    Piqsirpoq must have sensed my body tensing. He looked up, glancing in the gray dog''s direction.


    In an instant, I was released. At the same time, I saw the gray dog''s finger pull the trigger and Piqsirpoq''s back--he had shielded me with his body.


    The thunderous roar echoed as Piqsirpoq slammed into me, and we were both sent flying a short distance, landing in a snowdrift.


    I gasped for breath, trying to replace the air I''d just coughed up. Piqsirpoq lay on top of me, motionless--completely still.


    No!


    "This is one shitty job!" the gray dog shouted as he approached us. "At least now there''s less competition for the prize--maybe it''ll even pay off better this way." He laughed maniacally, tossing the weapon aside and pulling out a few devices from his pocket that I couldn''t identify. "And with two Psychics, looks like I can retire early!"


    I didn''t know what those devices were, but the cold, sharp aura they exuded hinted at some kind of cutting function.


    "But this might hurt a lot!" He gave me a twisted smile, seemingly genuinely delighted. "I don''t know, though," the gray dog tilted his head and shrugged. "But they do tend to scream pretty loudly."


    I tried to struggle but couldn''t move. My hands fumbled over the ground, finding nothing but the frozen earth--no rocks, nothing I could grasp.


    "Don''t rush me; I need to deal with this one first." He fiddled with his tools; I couldn''t tell what he was doing. "They say you''ve only got a few hours of activity after death."


    I bared my teeth at him, growling a warning, but it only made his smile more twisted.


    At that moment, a flash of light streaked across the gray sky, catching my attention. It wasn''t very noticeable amid the falling snowflakes.


    I didn''t pay attention to what the gray dog was doing anymore; I only squinted my eyes, focusing on the tiny dot plummeting rapidly from the sky.


    It wasn''t until the moment when the burly swordmaster landed on the ground and cleaved the gray dog in half from head to crotch that I realized it wasn''t a hallucination.


    Qana restrained the shockwave with a containment circle, so I didn''t even hear a sound.


    My vision instantly blurred, and a hot, wet sensation trailed down my cheeks, showing no sign of stopping.


    "Piqsirpoq..." I heard my own choked voice, so heavy with nasality that I barely recognized it.


    Qana''s expression was grim as he carefully picked up my brother, setting him aside and tracing his fingers across Piqsirpoq''s chest.


    I choked several times, trying to catch my breath, and an uncontrollable fit of coughing followed, causing me to spray blood onto myself.


    Qana tilted his head at me, looking even more concerned. But I shook my head lightly, signaling that it wasn''t as bad as it looked. With a glance, I urged him to focus on Piqsirpoq.


    "He still has a pulse, but these adamantine fragments... can''t be handled by nanobots," Qana said, hoisting my brother onto his shoulder, then looking into the distance with a scowl. He growled low, "One of them escaped. He used some method to disrupt my domain; I can''t touch or sense him." The swordmaster clenched his fist, the veins on his hand bulging. "I''m not sure if that bastard plans to return, but I can''t leave you here alone."


    "It''s okay," I rasped, my throat parched. "I can take care of myself." I tried to give Qana a smile, but he didn''t buy it. "Piqsirpoq protected me."


    I saw a struggle flash across Qana''s face, but he eventually nodded, then turned and looked toward Hadrian''s Wall.


    "Polota will be here soon. Don''t go wandering off," he instructed, as if I could possibly get up in this state and chase after the fleeing kidnapper. "If necessary, awaken Winter Chill." He tossed the broadsword beside me with a clanging sound.


    The swordmaster glanced at the cleaved armored vehicle--I assumed the chaos inside as well--but if he had any thoughts about it, he didn''t express them. He only turned back to look at me once more before leaping away as if gravity had no hold on him.


    I reached out and touched Winter Chill''s hilt, gripping the warm, pulsing energy tightly.


    Lying on my back in the snow, I looked up at the sky, not noticing when the snowfall had stopped. But finally, when a gentle touch caressed the fur on my face, something felt... different.


    Those cold, hard ice crystals had finally all melted, turning into a warm stream that trickled down, following the contours of the fur around my eyes.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 7 - Resonance 7.4

    Unexpectedly, I slept deeply.


    Maybe... some things from the past have finally returned to where they truly belong.


    I didn''t even hear the sharp screams in my ears. No, perhaps I simply didn''t care.


    Is this what it means to be cold? So, this is who I am.


    Oh well, as if I really cared.


    I opened my eyes and found a pair of deep blue, worried wolf eyes staring back at me.


    "Hey, kid," he said, feigning nonchalance, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "How did you sleep?"


    "Piqsirpoq?" My throat was dry, making it hard to speak. I had to swallow a few times before I could finish the word.


    "He is fine," Qana replied, easing my tension as he handed me a cup with a straw. "Gray''s team was brought in to deal with the adamantine fragments in your bodies. Everything else is under control." He pointed to a machine next to the bed. I recognized it as a dialysis machine. "There are still some tiny residues in your blood. It''ll take a bit more time to clean them out completely."


    After I had drunk enough, Qana placed the cup back on the bedside table.


    "Can I see... my brother?" I asked hesitantly.


    "He''s in the medical pod," Qana explained. "His hand..."


    "Can''t they use... nanobots?" I immediately thought of the Selection finals--it''s tomorrow. Wait... how long have I been asleep?


    "No," Qana shook his head and sighed, clearly aware of what I was thinking. "As I mentioned earlier, adamantine interferes with nanobots. If we miss even the tiniest shard lodged in any tissue, it could be extremely dangerous for a psychic."


    "Why does..." I probed inwardly, confirming that I wasn''t as weak as before. "Why does adamantine have this effect on psychics? I thought the two had a symbiotic relationship?"


    "Why else would they make weapons out of adamantine?" Qana gave me a slightly sad smile, and I began to understand something I had never considered before.


    Something meant for destruction... something meant for construction...


    "Adamantine can interact with sufficiently powerful waves, absorbing energy to trigger certain special effects. But if ungoverned adamantine enters the existence circle, it will absorb the wave before it completes its configuration. In this scenario, the release of waves, the maintenance of the consciousness circle, and even the stability of the existence circle can all be affected." Qana manipulated the terminal as he continued. "So far, there hasn''t been a case of so-called ''existence being erased,'' so we''re not sure if that''s truly possible. But at the very least, we know that if adamantine enters the body, it will severely harm a psychic and suppress the wave of consciousness." He seemed to have found what he was looking for, showing me an image of an armored vehicle with its upper half blown off on the terminal screen. "As for adamantine''s external properties, they''re more straightforward. I think you already know the effects of resonance."


    I nodded, glancing at the sword on the Swordmaster''s belt. A weapon that hasn''t been awakened can already do this much, so with Qana wielding Winter Chill, he''s practically a walking, precise, destructive force. I was beginning to truly grasp what Master Willow meant back then.


    "Under normal circumstances, only adamantine that is considered part of the existence circle can be infused with one''s consciousness. That would make it emit waves with the same pattern as the wielder''s, thus interfering with the consciousness circle of other living beings and adhering to the rules of the existence circle." Qana etched two canceling waves into the air. "And the plane that adamantine occupies is the same as the plane of the defense circle, so the two can interact, bypassing the defense circle''s repelling properties. As long as enough energy can be attached to the adamantine, even an ordinary person might be able to break through a powerful psychic''s defense." He gestured toward my chest. "So, psychic battles are a game of attack and defense across multiple different realms simultaneously."


    The terminal on Qana''s arm vibrated, and he glanced at it.


    "This is a highly complex interaction. I''ve tried to speed up the explanation, but I''m still falling behind." I could hear the self-reproach in the Swordmaster''s tone. But before I could say anything, he continued. "They''re bringing Piqsirpoq back now. I thought you might want to spend some time alone with him." Qana stood up and said, "We''ll continue later."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "It''s my fault." Before Qana could pull back the curtain, I softly confessed. "I disobeyed your orders... I expanded my consciousness, which is how we got discovered." Shame kept me from looking at Qana directly, so I could only lower my head and stare at the bedsheet. "It''s my fault... that these things happened, that Piqsirpoq got hurt."


    Qana sighed, his body slightly sagging. He walked back to my side and gently patted me on the head twice.


    "That''s not how it is." His ears perked up, turning toward the back. "We''ll talk later." The Swordmaster said in a comforting tone, then turned and left the room.


    The sliding door to the ward remained open as Piqsirpoq was wheeled in.


    His eyes were closed, and he didn''t move--he might not have woken up yet. At least, outwardly, there were no visible abnormalities, and all the blood and stains had been cleaned off, restoring Piqsirpoq to his pristine white.


    It wasn''t until he was brought to my side that I noticed the wolf accompanying him--a member of the Gray faction. Feeling a bit awkward, I averted my gaze, trying to remain composed. But I couldn''t last more than a few seconds; in the end, curiosity got the better of me, and I sneaked a glance at him.


    The Grays are known to be the most aloof, with rumors even suggesting they have no feelings, like cold, unfeeling machines. Of course, I knew this was just a strange stereotype. The Grays I saw in the arena during the Selection showed excitement and other emotions--perhaps a bit more... reserved?


    The gray wolf adjusted the needle in Piqsirpoq''s arm, ensuring it was correctly connected to the dialysis machine, then came over to check on mine. The entire process was steady and precise, without any extraneous movements. There was no sign of interest in me in his actions. If there was any, it was perfectly masked beneath that expressionless poker face.


    After completing his work, he left the room without so much as a hint of body language that could be interpreted.


    Well, at least I know which part of the Gray faction I inherited.


    Steady hands, a calm mind untouched by subjective emotions, and the ability to make all necessary tough decisions--these traits supposedly define the Grays. Sometimes, they''re even less welcomed by the other wolves than the seemingly arrogant Nyxes.


    But thinking about it, with the simple-minded Snows, the unrealistic Mottle, the short-tempered Flashes, the nitpicky Woods, and the unremarkable Ashes... it''s not like the different factions ever planned on liking each other, right?


    Oh well, as if I care... uh...


    "Hey," Piqsirpoq had woken up at some point, pulling my attention back. "You look like crap."


    "Ha, thanks," I chuckled. "You look like the morning sun on a winter day."


    "I know." Piqsirpoq grinned at me.


    "Did they say..." I glanced at his bandaged right hand. "...how long it will take?"


    "Not before the Selection is over." I could hear the disappointment he tried to hide in his voice.


    "I''m sorry..." I didn''t know what to say, but I didn''t want the silence to fill the space between us. "The Selection must be really important to you..."


    "Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still remember the scene of watching the Selection broadcast for the first time," Piqsirpoq interrupted me. "Sometimes, I wonder if it''s just a fantasy in my head, because the timing doesn''t really add up." He adjusted his posture, closing his eyes again as he continued. "The atmosphere was so lively and full of life, like everyone was immersed in some kind of otherworldly joy."


    Piqsirpoq paused, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady hum of the dialysis machine.


    "But I never actually experienced that... sense of participation." A bitter smile crept across his face. I had never imagined it would be like this, even after he shared his thoughts on the selection with me that day. "The real reason I keep reliving this memory that might not even exist is..." Piqsirpoq clutched his arms tightly, as if trying to hug himself. "...because it''s the only time I can still remember their scent."


    Seeing him so vulnerable, I had the urge to look away. But I... wanted to do more--I could do more--so I kept listening.


    "So, even though I absolutely hate this twisted mess, it feels like I can convince myself that as long as I don''t let go, as long as I keep pushing deeper, clinging to anything that might remotely connect, holding on to every faint possibility, I can..." Piqsirpoq tensed up, his body trembling slightly. "...I can... get a little closer to them, relive those feelings I can no longer remember."


    After a long silence, Piqsirpoq finally relaxed. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.


    "Do you think Dad is still alive?" It sounded more like a murmur than a question.


    "Impossible." But I answered anyway. "Those people clearly weren''t doing something like this for the first time." I didn''t want to recall the various clues, but the images still forced their way back. "And the wolves that left the Senate... there are only a few of them."


    "I believe he''s still alive." Piqsirpoq''s tone was so detached that I seriously doubted he even heard what I said, but I didn''t interrupt him. "Once this messed-up world finally becomes normal, he''ll be able to come back." His whisper was barely audible. "All those senseless taboos."


    "But that''s impossible..." I mumbled, not knowing why I intended to keep talking. As if it mattered somehow, or could change anything. "The prohibition of interfaction mixing is the only way to ensure that the existing gene pool isn''t lost. The population of each faction is already below the minimum viable number..."


    Normally, this wouldn''t necessarily be a problem, especially given that we live in such a highly stable artificial environment where we don''t need to worry about some massive extinction event happening suddenly. But the high-density compressed codes in our genes mean that even a small drift could cause countless precious legacies to vanish forever! This was one of the first things every wolf is taught as soon as they''re old enough to understand--the immense responsibility we bear.


    "Would it matter?" Piqsirpoq said faintly, his voice unnervingly calm. "Let what belongs to the past disappear." He slowly closed his eyes again, his breathing steady. "The future belongs to those who are willing to envision a new world, not to those who, like echoes, endlessly wander the decaying tombs of the dead."


    As if to emphasize his point, the echo of Piqsirpoq''s words lingered in the ward, refusing to fade away.


    "I will change this world, liberating everyone from these irrational shackles." He didn''t speak with the tone of someone making a vow or setting a goal, but rather as if he were simply stating an inevitable fact.


    Like ripples spreading out from his words, destined to eventually form a tide powerful enough to alter reality--unavoidable.


    "That sounds wonderful," I said softly to Piqsirpoq. "At your coronation, I''ll be the first to kneel."


    "I thought you''d be long gone by then," he replied, still with his eyes closed, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To the Lunar or somewhere like that."


    "I wouldn''t mind sticking around a bit longer." I found it easy to imagine that scene. "After all, I do love large social gatherings." Maybe Piqsirpoq would look quite fitting in a purple toga. "And I''d also like... to see Dad with my own eyes."


    Piqsirpoq didn''t respond further, and I saw tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.


    The rest of the time, we didn''t say another word. Even after the steady hum of the dialysis machine and the day''s accumulated fatigue carried us into a dreamless sleep, I could still clearly hear the warm, familiar resonance in my chest.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - D茅j脿 Vu

    D¨¦j¨¤ Vu: Some things change, others never will.


    A faint vibration woke me up. I gently nudged Luther aside and sat up in bed.


    Even after all these years, I still wake up at the slightest sound.


    I glanced at the terminal on the charging pad, debating whether I should abuse my authority and pretend I hadn''t seen it. But the caller ID made me drop the idea--it was Karl.


    "Hey, Chief Medical Officer," I greeted the elderly German Shepherd. "What''s up..."


    "Don''t you ''hey'' me, you little brat!" Karl barked, making me flinch and flatten my ears against my head. "Why did you get your blood tested, and why haven''t I seen the report?"


    "What? A blood test?" I tried to play dumb, extending my consciousness to toss the analyzer into the storage locker, burying it under a pile of junk. "Master, where did you hear such nonsense...?" I''m going to throw that guy into the airlock and shoot him into space.


    "Don''t ''Master'' me, you dumb wolf pretending to be a white German Shepherd!" I flinched again, pressing my ears even flatter. I''d almost forgotten that had happened. "Your mutt''s been whining about how much his hand hurts, and it''s obvious it''s your clumsy one-legged cat* technique that did it."


    "Please don''t call Luther that..." I sighed, pressing my right hand to my forehead. "It sounds weird."


    "Whatever, the whole fleet and the entire Empire will know sooner or later." The terminal caught Karl''s sneer with precision. "Or are you thinking the ''cuckold fetish'' rumors haven''t aged well enough?"


    "Karl..." I groaned, not wanting to revisit that issue.


    "Who you want to screw..." The Chief Medical Officer paused for a moment, and I didn''t want to know why. "...or who screws you," I clicked my tongue, "is your business, not mine. But your health is my responsibility!"


    "All the numbers are within the normal range; there''s nothing to worry about," I said in a soothing tone, trying to wrap up this increasingly awkward conversation.


    "You think I''m stupid enough to be fooled that easily?" Karl shouted. I quickly Dominated the terminal, hurling it across the room.


    Grabbing my ears helplessly, I walked over to the terminal, wondering how to respond.


    But nothing came to mind, so I just stared silently at the black rectangular panel hovering in mid-air.


    "Killing takes a toll on people. Even you, with the protection of your Snow persona, aren''t immune," Karl''s weary voice was laden with exhaustion, filling me with guilt. "Let alone the fact that you have to kill yourself over and over."


    "I know that Phantom isn''t me, Karl," I tried to convince the old German Shepherd, maybe even myself.


    "Do you really, pup?" Karl replied, sounding like a doctor who''d heard the same denial a thousand times before. "Can you look me in the eye and say that again, Richter?"


    No, I couldn''t. Because deep down, I knew that Phantom was me.


    But I couldn''t admit that, so all that was left between us was silence.


    "What about the mutt? Can he handle the truth?" Karl sighed.


    "He was a bit shocked, but I think his mind is strong enough to deal with it," I said, though maybe not the sharpest tool in the shed...


    "I''ll arrange a counseling session for the both of you," Karl stated matter-of-factly.


    "Uh..." I wasn''t sure if he was being serious. "...Alright?"


    "Leon finished extracting the exotic matter, and we''ve got a decent amount. Schneider and Elias are thrilled, but I still think it''s best to allocate the next quarter''s supply to the Siberian House before they start messing with it." Karl abruptly switched to business, catching me off guard.


    "Oh, let''s do that then. But I doubt Hunter would mind if we occasionally miss a quota." Since I took command of the Empire''s Heart, we haven''t had any issues with missing quotas, so why bring this up outside of the usual meetings?


    "You need to keep an eye on Hoffman. His drinking problem is a risk to discipline and morale, and I''ve already received enough concerns about it." I could tell Karl was hinting at something.


    "But if I step in, wouldn''t it seem like I''m holding a grudge or something?" I admitted my frustration, though I was more inclined to pretend these problems didn''t exist.


    "You''re his commanding officer; it''s your responsibility! Where did Arthur''s teachings go?" Karl''s words were heartfelt, making me flinch again. "Arthur and I will handle it, but this is the last time we''re cleaning up your mess."


    "Uh..." I scratched my ears, making them stand up. "Thanks."


    "Wolfgang''s test results came back, and as I expected," the terminal chimed as I opened the file Karl had sent. "I still recommend waiting until he''s an adult for the joint replacement surgery."


    "What did Arthur and Maya say?" I quickly skimmed the contents, and since it was as expected, I finished reading it fast.


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    "They''re a bit reluctant, but they trust my judgment," Karl replied.


    "So, is there a problem?" I was puzzled, unsure if Karl was hinting at some bad news he didn''t want to address directly.


    "I need to know your opinion, don''t I? Aren''t you committed to taking on the ''father''s'' responsibility?" Karl''s tone turned into one of lecturing a young pup again, and my ears reflexively drooped.


    "A ''father''s'' responsibility..." I murmured, sensing Karl raising an eyebrow even if I couldn''t see it. But this complex issue wasn''t something I had the energy to worry about now. "In any case, this is a professional medical judgment. I don''t see why you need my input."


    "That''s what a ''father''s responsibility'' means," he sighed, clearly frustrated. "I don''t want to sound too judgmental because I know you don''t understand what that means." I twitched my ears, indeed not quite grasping what Karl was trying to convey. "So, you agree to wait until Wolfgang is an adult?"


    "Yes," I replied curtly, wondering if I''d missed something.


    Karl snorted, and then fell silent. After he had said so many unrelated things, it didn''t take a psychic to guess that he was warming up for a particular topic. But embarrassingly, no matter how many years passed, my social skills hadn''t improved at all, so I just continued to stare at the floating terminal, waiting for the elderly German Shepherd to be ready.


    "Though I''ve mentioned this before, I just feel the need to remind you..." Karl began hesitantly. "We still don''t know what happened to you in the Senate, or why you ended up in Greenland..." He paused briefly, but quickly continued. "I only know that you saved the family, prevented the Empire from fracturing, ended the Inner Planet War, and saved us. There are countless people still around to give me headaches because of your sacrifices. For that, I can never thank you enough."


    I thought I''d be used to that sting of emotion by now, considering my age. But clearly, just like anything else, if you don''t face it properly, it never goes away.


    "But you must remember, even if you can snap your fingers and trigger a nuclear fusion reaction, you''re still just human**. If someone stabs you with a knife, you''ll bleed just like anyone else." Karl took a deep breath and continued. "And we''re a team, meant to look out for each other. We''re your... pack," the Chief Medical Officer hesitated over the term. "And you''re family to us too, Richter von Deutschland."


    I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to let the barrier down. This isn''t a luxury I can afford. I''m your protector, not the other way around. I''ve already lost control once, and until the final reckoning comes, I must avoid doing anything that would upset the balance. I have to maintain absolute objectivity, unaffected by anything. Especially since I already have too many weaknesses--what if my enemies plan to exploit them? The risk is too high.


    In the deep, impassable snow, the strongest wolf leads the way.


    It''s a responsibility and a destiny.


    "Hold on tight," Phantom''s final words, blood sputtering from his mouth, flashed through my mind. "Before it''s too late."


    Could that be possible for me?


    Even if it were possible, would I... want it?


    I turned to glance at the sleeping Luther. Maybe it was because he sensed my gaze, but his ears twitched twice before he rolled over.


    That made me smile naturally. I knew it meant something--something about possibilities.


    Something had shifted.


    I wasn''t sure if it was because I''d grown weaker or stronger that I was feeling this way.


    But I didn''t mind finding out the answer.


    "Thank you, Karl," I responded with all the sincerity I could muster. "I''m truly grateful."


    "When I open my eyes tomorrow, I''d better see your blood test report on my desk," Karl said, leaving no room for negotiation. "And the mutt''s too," he added. "Looks like I''ll have to look after him now as well."


    "Yes, Master." Karl''s teasing tone made my ears burn, but I managed to respond without too much awkwardness.


    The Chief Medical Officer grunted and then ended the call.


    Before I forgot, I sent the test report to Karl. I really didn''t want to face the wrath of the old German Shepherd again.


    I was confident in my ability to move silently, but when I returned to bed, Luther still woke up.


    "What''s wrong?" he asked sleepily, giving my nose a couple of gentle licks.


    "Paperwork," I replied, thinking we both needed rest and could discuss it later.


    I nudged Luther, signaling for him to make room so I could lie down, but instead, he rolled over, grabbed my tail, and pulled it toward him.


    "Hey, what''s that for?" I whispered in complaint. Luther''s tug was a bit forceful, and then he hugged me from behind, biting my ear. "That hurts!" I couldn''t help but let out a whimper in protest.


    "This is your punishment for lying," he said, licking the fur he had messed up.


    The warm, wet sensation kept brushing against that spot behind my right ear, making it impossible for me to respond with anything other than a moan. Damn it, this wicked mutt!


    "Hey, I hadn''t noticed this before," Luther remarked, with the tone of someone discovering a new universe as he toyed with the tip of my tail. "I thought you were all white."


    "Oh," I shivered from the ticklish sensation on my tail, and Luther seemed amused, continuing to play with it. "I inherited some of my mother''s coloring."


    "I think it''s cute," he said, resting his chin on top of my head, flattening my ears. "It''s like your personal signature."


    "Mm." I responded softly, closing my eyes, enjoying the gentle ticklish sensation as I stroked Luther''s firm arm, which had sparse dark stripes.


    "History," he suddenly said, and I didn''t react immediately, making a questioning sound. "I''ve decided on my major."


    "Oh." I nuzzled against him, greedily soaking up the perfect warmth. "Any particular reason?"


    "I like stories." He started licking that sensitive spot behind my right ear again, making it hard for me to focus, though at least he let go of my tail. "And I want to write a great one."


    "Mind sharing?" The unending ticklish sensation made me shudder again, my right leg twitching a few times.


    "The biography of the sexiest admiral ever." He said slyly, flipping me over onto my back and then lying on top of me so that our noses gently touched. "In case you didn''t notice, I''m talking about you."


    "That seems like it might have some issues with objectivity and conflict of interest." I laughed at Luther''s mock-serious expression. "Besides, I haven''t decided yet how I want to be remembered." The tickling sensation on my nose made my whiskers twitch a bit.


    "The beginning should grab attention, followed by endless climaxes." He was getting even more serious about it. Although it was amusing, I honestly couldn''t imagine what my biography would look like if this wicked mutt wrote it. "Plain narration is too boring."


    "But a good story needs buildup." I took a deep breath, identifying Luther''s scent while stroking the side of his face. "Without buildup, the climax lacks tension and meaning. And... endless climaxes, isn''t that impossible?" I said playfully.


    "Maybe, start with a shocking opening? Lots of explosions and cool special effects." He tilted his head slightly, probably imagining the scene. "Such a complex character still needs depth in the background, so as the story progresses, more of his thoughts and past are slowly revealed, making the character more nuanced."


    I had to admit, that sounded quite reasonable. Although I wasn''t sure if Luther knew the difference between a biography and a novel.


    "Regretted mistakes, proud achievements, moments of joy, sleepless nights... all the important moments." Luther murmured almost to himself. "And everyone who left a mark on his life, all the encounters that helped him grow into the person he is now, whether friend or foe." He kissed me, making the world seem to stop, leaving only our breaths.


    I closed my eyes, immersing myself in this moment. This moment that, every time, made me feel like a helpless little pup again. Silently, we shared our darkest secrets, exploring each other''s deepest voids, until we merged, becoming one.


    A pulse from the consciousness circle signaled the dissolution of boundaries and the merging of realms.


    "And lovers," Luther''s form began to appear, outlining his sharp features and the curve of his mouth. "Never forget the lovers."


    Luther slowly licked my nose again, then wore a smug expression. That look, as if waiting for me to praise him, was so silly that I couldn''t resist its powerful charm. Taking advantage of Luther''s smug moment, I leaned in and sniffed his cheek--I wasn''t even sure why I wanted to do that, probably some instinctive reaction.


    "And I think that describing flaws will make him more relatable, more like a real, living person, not just a name..." He blinked those big brown eyes and continued, and I could see my own reflection in them. "For example, he might occasionally abuse his power... uh, how should I put it..." He gave me a sly grin and slowly began to move downward. "...forcing his orderly to use tongue to clean the ''deck''..."


    Luther''s warm, moist breath brushed through the short fur on my chest and belly. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to tremble too much. But the unrelenting ticklish sensation eventually broke down all defenses, sweeping away any remaining sense of reason.


    "As for the endless climaxes part..." When that sticky, warm sensation touched the fur below my waist, I couldn''t hold back a whimper.


    In the boundless void, I saw the dazzling galaxy shine, and I understood things I once thought impossible.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.1

    Council: Pulling the strings from the shadows of the world.


    I woke up when my brother''s teammates came in, but I decided to keep pretending to be asleep to avoid any awkwardness.


    See? I can read the room too sometimes.


    I closed my eyes and listened to the lively chatter, feeling as though there was an insurmountable chasm between us, one that I could only silently observe from the other side.


    My brother apologized for not being able to attend the final match, and the others were quick to understand and comfort Piqsirpoq. I suspected that Sotura, who was originally a substitute, didn''t mind the outcome too much--but that could just be the Gray part of me talking. Who knows?


    Snow''s team ended up in third place, behind Nyx and Wood--not that I actually understood what that meant.


    I really didn''t want to ruin this warm moment, but I had needed to use the bathroom for the past half hour. I didn''t expect them to chat for so long.


    When I finally decided to give up on pretending to be asleep, I heard the sliding door open and the sound of my brother''s teammates with their tails between their legs. I sneakily opened my right eye to take a peek.


    "Visiting hours are over," Qana said. Before he even finished speaking, my brother''s teammates had already fled the room.


    "Uh..." Piqsirpoq sounded a bit awkward. "Master."


    "Congratulations." Qana threw something at my face, which I caught and saw it was a set of clothes. "You''re being discharged."


    "What about me?" Piqsirpoq asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.


    My brother had mentioned earlier that he suspected he was on the verge of getting bedsores, or possibly some kind of long-term confinement syndrome--whichever came first.


    "You too." Though he said this, Qana dragged a chair over, straddled it, and rested his elbows on the backrest, his wrists supporting his chin. "But only after we have a private talk."


    Piqsirpoq''s once-joyful expression faltered slightly, clearly sensing something off in the Swordmaster''s tone.


    "I''ve already told you everything I remember..." he said hesitantly, glancing at me quickly. "...Master."


    "We need to discuss something else," Qana said slowly. If I didn''t know the Swordmaster so well, I''d have thought the way he bared his teeth when he spoke was meant as a threat. "In private." Under Qana''s intense gaze, I wisely began to get dressed and gave them some space.


    Is this what applying pressure looks like? It seems Qana is really good at it.


    And I''m sure the Swordmaster wouldn''t appreciate any fool stupid enough to try eavesdropping, so after getting dressed, I left the room.


    The atmosphere in the dining hall was lively, everyone still buzzing from the aftermath of the Selection process, even though Snow''s performance this year wasn''t as expected. Some were discussing Piqsirpoq''s incident, while fewer speculated wildly about the mysterious attacker''s background.


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    No one seemed particularly interested in me.


    From the gossip I overheard, the incident had been twisted into a story about how Piqsirpoq heroically saved me--or rather, some identity fabricated wolf. At least, that''s the main narrative; some of the wilder ones aren''t even worth mentioning.


    Qana probably covered for me and my brother by using the similarity in our wave patterns or applied some skilled "pressure." Whatever the method, it was effective, as none of the stories included me.


    After hearing enough of these embellished, fanciful tales, I decided to focus on more practical matters, like how to explain my long absence to Aether. Also, I needed to get a new terminal and replace the winter gear that was lost or damaged. The thought of having to engage in a battle of wits with the storage manager was already exhausting.


    But for now, staying silent might be the most reasonable choice, as I had a feeling the Swordmaster had something to discuss with me as well.


    "Jupiter''s Flight," I said hesitantly to the food synthesizer, feeling slightly more at ease after confirming that the food it gave me at least looked normal.


    As I ate the tasteless porridge, I tried to piece together the entire event.


    After Qana confirmed that Piqsirpoq and I had recovered sufficiently, he asked us to recount what had happened. When I described how I resonated, releasing a slash that cleaved the armored vehicle in half, he frowned but didn''t interrupt. Piqsirpoq then added his perspective, detailing how he got back up and killed the Bloodhound from behind.


    But he didn''t tell us what had happened inside the armored vehicle before that, and Qana didn''t ask. This led me to believe that Qana knew what had happened and why Piqsirpoq didn''t want to talk about it.


    Ugh, I hate this.


    Qana briefly informed us about the confirmed identities of the kidnappers--various notorious bounty hunters and mercenaries, though none were particularly well-known, likely just there to fill out the consciousness collective''s numbers. The gray dog was Wolfhound, a Delta-level psychic, not a Red-Eye. Within the Empire, there were bounties on him in many places, but due to his cautious and discreet nature, little was known about him. However, the few cases directly linked to him were notorious and involved extremely cruel methods.


    As for the one who got away, they had already disappeared without leaving any clues that might reveal their identity. They clearly had a very thorough escape plan, or they were exceptionally skilled in covert operations. Of course, it could also be both.


    So, the plan behind this attack was primarily to conceal the mastermind''s identity; even with the information about these criminals and mercenaries, there wasn''t enough direct evidence to link them to any entity.


    I recalled the sticky blood on the bottom of my shoes in the armored vehicle, along with the scattered remains and viscera, and found that it didn''t affect my appetite at all. I wasn''t sure if it was because I had no appetite to begin with, or if those things simply didn''t bother me.


    Shrugging, I continued to eat my tasteless porridge.


    The Wolfhound being split in two by Qana didn''t elicit any special feelings from me, except for admiration of the Swordmaster''s skill. I had no idea from how high up he had started aiming or how he ensured his trajectory...


    Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind, making me freeze, the spoon still in my mouth.


    Qana had perfectly bisected the Wolfhound--not just in terms of technique; the key point was that the Swordmaster had clearly seen him. So, Qana knew we weren''t in immediate danger but still killed the Wolfhound.


    Why?


    Though the burly Swordmaster looked rough and tough, always wearing a scowl, he was definitely not the type to lose control out of momentary emotional agitation. He could''ve just severed the Wolfhound''s hand or something; his psychic ability was far superior to the Wolfhound''s. So why did Qana choose to kill him?


    Qana wanted to silence the Wolfhound because he knew what the Wolfhound would say--he knew who the mastermind was.


    I tried to steady my hands as I placed the spoon back on the tray.


    Why?


    I went over the event again, trying to determine if this was just my paranoia or a case of obsession. But this only made me more certain that Qana was determined to kill the Wolfhound to shut him up.


    Knowing that the person you trust most might betray you is an incredibly awful feeling--on multiple levels.


    First comes self-reproach, wondering how you could be stupid enough to be deceived, how you missed all the obvious signs. Then comes the shame, questioning why you''re losing faith--what if it''s just a simple misunderstanding? And finally, you have to confront the helplessness that comes with the realization that you might actually be manipulated and losing control of everything.


    Damn it!


    I pressed my palms over my eyes, taking a few deep breaths.


    Faced with what seemed like a complicated and insoluble problem, I chose the simplest path--trust. No matter how strange things seemed, even if Qana knew the true identity of the mastermind and tried to cover it up, there was no evidence that he wasn''t acting in my best interest.


    Though this still brought me back to the original question--why--it seemed infinitely better and more reasonable than the worst-case scenario.


    In any case, I decided to trust Qana, even though he had subtly hinted that I shouldn''t.


    I could only shrug, doing my best not to dwell on whether trust really was an entirely illogical decision.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.2

    I pressed my right index finger against the screen, activating the new terminal.


    I hadn''t anticipated it, but there were an overwhelming number of unread messages. I should''ve expected it, though I''m still not quite used to this feature.


    Quickly skimming through the various messages Aether had sent, I could sense the worry between the lines. My original decision to respond after speaking with Qana started to waver.


    Is this the emotional part influencing the rational part?


    I shook my head vigorously, trying to focus, to not be swayed by distractions.


    But before I could decide what to do, I had already sent out a call request. Hmm... I need to figure out a way to stop this from happening again.


    "Hey," he answered quickly. "I haven''t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?" His tone was calm, but after all this time, I was beginning to recognize the subtle emotions hidden beneath his strong logical thinking.


    "Oh, nothing''s wrong." I suddenly realized how suspicious that sounded. "I just had a little accident during snowfield training." That was basically true, I suppose.


    "I thought it might have something to do with that unidentified armed group''s incursion." He joked, probably to ease the tension.


    "Haha, yeah, right. How could I possibly have missed something like that?" The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how stupid I sounded, trying to cover it up. Aether surely noticed it too, because he fell silent for a long time. I could almost hear the sound of his brain processing and reconstructing the sequence of events.


    "For logic''s sake, Richter," Aether''s concern was clear. "Are you alright?"


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    "Uh..." I realized I was subconsciously touching a recently healed wound and forced myself to stop. "Nothing the med bay couldn''t handle."


    "By the Rationalism... The official report told a very standardized story. No wonder the atmosphere at the Library of Alexandria has been a bit off lately..." he muttered. "Listen, this is important..." Aether''s tone was unusually anxious, each word laced with hesitation. "Among the attackers, did you recognize any of the breeds?"


    "Breeds," Aether used that term. Given that anyone bold enough to target the Senate would certainly be from a high-ranking breed, Aether sounded like he knew something, rather than just guessing.


    "Other than a bloodhound and an Irish wolfhound, the others didn''t seem to be purebred." I recalled the scene in my mind, along with what Qana had mentioned later. "Oh, I almost forgot, there was one that got away, though I never got a clear look at him." I did remember his resonance feedback, but hadn''t given it much thought before. I tried to recall earlier lessons on identifying different resonance signatures. "He might have been brown."


    "What kind of brown?" I noticed Aether''s urgency; his emotions were starting to affect me. "Was it a dark, almost black brown, or a shiny, reflective brown?"


    "The former." I mentally compared the waveform to the spectrum and replied. "Does it matter?" I asked, realizing he had described two very specific shades of brown.


    "That could be good news... although in a way, it''s worse..." Aether muttered to himself again. I wasn''t sure if it took a mind as logical as his to understand what he meant. "Have you told anyone else about this?"


    "No." I hadn''t mentioned it to Qana or Piqsirpoq. "I only remembered when you asked."


    "Richter..." Aether hesitated, sounding deeply conflicted. "Don''t tell anyone about this, okay?"


    "Oh, alright..." I scratched my ear, suddenly a bit relieved that Qana likely knew the identity of the mastermind. Qana and Aether had made similar decisions--was that a good sign? Or did it mean... they were in league with each other? Damn paranoid thoughts! "But... can you tell me why?" I pushed aside my chaotic thoughts, seeking a clear answer.


    The other end of the terminal fell silent again. After a long pause, I finally heard him sigh.


    "The line isn''t secure; it''s too dangerous to discuss this now." Dangerous? "I''ll contact you later. I need to verify some things," Aether said. "I''ll be quick, I promise."


    "Oh, okay." I scratched my ear again, left to accept this confusing situation. Trust is like this, right? "I... miss you," I remembered the original reason I reached out.


    "Me too," Aether replied softly.


    "Say hi to Momus for me, will you?" I recalled the always energetic little wolf cub.


    "Sure," Aether responded. "Take care."


    "You too." With that, Aether ended the call.


    There was a certain feeling, like being caught in a massive web where one wrong move could entangle me further. Or perhaps... this web had been spun around me from the very beginning.


    Either way, I suddenly had a premonition that the real turning point was approaching, and I wasn''t sure I would like the next chapter.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.3

    I waited on the platform outside the concealed training space for the sword master, and in the meantime, I studied the shale structure of the exterior disguise in detail. I still couldn''t find any gaps--it was an amazing design. Suddenly, I had an idea.


    Feeling a bit guilty, I checked the staircase to make sure the sword master wasn''t nearby. After confirming the coast was clear, I returned to the hidden door and cleared my throat.


    "Qana Snow." I tried my best to mimic his impatient tone, confident that I had nailed it.


    The shale structure didn''t react at all.


    Well, I didn''t really expect it to work.


    A while later, Qana appeared, carrying a large black backpack in his hand. I noticed he also had another one slung over his back.


    I could think of a few possibilities for the equipment he was carrying, and none of them were particularly optimistic.


    He unlocked the entrance without offering any explanation and stepped into the room. I quickly followed, and the sliding door almost caught my tail.


    "This is for the second-worst and third-worst scenarios," Qana said, placing the backpack in the corner.


    I appreciated that the sword master never sugarcoated harsh realities.


    "I''m not sure how much time we have left; the procedures vary with each round. But if, for some reason, I..." He glanced at me. "...don''t make it, tear down the door and take everything. Inside, you''ll find everything you might need." Qana pressed against the wall, revealing a sword rack. "In that case, I''ll ensure they won''t notice you for a while."


    Although I had just said I liked the way he didn''t sugarcoat things, being handed instructions as if they were final words left me a bit overwhelmed. All I could do was nod reflexively.


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    "Now, for the worst-case scenario," Qana said, tossing me a hand-and-a-half sword. I caught it by the blade, still sheathed. "I''ll teach you how truly powerful psychics fight."


    He drew Winter Chill, and the broadsword sent a shockwave through the air, causing the entire room to vibrate. Qana expanded his consciousness, and I noticed twelve silver metal orbs slowly orbiting around him at chest height, following a fixed trajectory. The master''s deep blue eyes had turned completely red.


    Qana waved his hand casually, and I sensed several objects entering my consciousness domain. I caught them, letting them hover in front of me. They were twelve adamantine spheres. I mimicked Qana''s technique, setting the spheres to orbit around my chest. After completing the setup, I looked up and met the sword master''s eyes.


    "Stance, Snow," he said in an authoritative tone. But I swear I caught a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.


    I had so many questions! Don''t you think you should explain some things to me? I also have so much I want to say to you! Why start with final instructions as if you''re about to die? Do you really think I''m ready to face this mess without knowing anything?


    No... He doesn''t think I''m ready.


    I stared into Qana''s blood-red eyes, searching deeper.


    He doesn''t think I''m ready, so he''s using the remaining time to prepare me as much as possible.


    To prepare me... for surviving in the event of his "absence."


    I had never considered the possibility that the towering sword master could fall in any reality. Qana was supposed to be unyielding and indomitable, nothing could stand in his way, let alone... kill him. But my rational side knew that was impossible. Qana had once said there were nine Alpha-level psychics, and he was the weakest.


    What is this all for? What''s so important? I''m still in the dark!


    My past was full of vivid yet broken memories, mostly shrouded in mist because the Senate forbade any mention of the exiled wolf. Of course, I had no peer interaction to create any cherished memories. And now, the future, which once seemed to hold a glimmer of hope, was also obscured by chaotic uncertainty.


    I was utterly trapped, stuck in this bewildering present, where all realities were poised to diverge.


    I didn''t know what Qana had packed in the bag for me, nor what awaited at the end of the path he had chosen for me.


    I didn''t know what the Nyxes remembered about me, what Aether planned to do, or how it would affect me.


    I knew nothing. Only fog lay ahead, and my eyes were blindfolded. All I could do was charge forward into whatever might come or stay put and wait for something to catch up to me.


    "Stance, Snow," Qana repeated, and the brightness of Lancelnopt Synchrotron Radiation intensified.


    I swallowed all my doubts and questions, raising the hand-and-a-half sword at my side, assuming the stance.


    It was a look of determination.


    How could I let Qana down?


    I guess trust means relinquishing control, choosing to accept the risk and rely on someone else even when the outcome is uncertain.


    So, I raised my muzzle, straightened my back, and took that step, moving forward into the complete unknown.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.4

    "Expanding consciousness domain is the first step. In most situations, controlling a larger space means more potential targets to dominate and compressing your opponent''s options.


    Erosion of the domain isn''t always a strategy would use, especially between equally matched psychics. When consciousness is expanded, the mutually repellent domains will divide space according to proportion--this is what we call neutralization. If you can unilaterally erode the opponent''s domain, it will bring an absolute advantage. However, this is based on an extraordinary level of understanding. It''s not impossible, but extremely difficult. Considering it as a combat method is impractical.


    Therefore, the most common scenario in battles between psychics is the formation of chimeric domains, with neutral domains appearing occasionally. The principles need to grasp don''t change; just be mindful of the range you can operate within."


    As the chimeric domain formed, Qana immediately attacked me with his consciousness before I had time to unleash a strike with the Snow stance.


    He''s so strong!


    I''m pretty sure he''s using his full strength this time. If I hadn''t reflexively pushed back, my body would be shattered by now. I mustered an even stronger force, breaking free from Qana''s influence, causing him to stagger slightly.


    This is the first time I truly felt the strength of my own power.


    I mimicked Qana''s method, suppressing him with my consciousness, pinning the Sword Master in place.


    "The second step involves using free-floating adamantite. Strictly speaking, you could substitute this with other materials, but adamantite''s ability to enhance waves and interact with defense circle makes it the best choice.


    Generally, the stronger the psychic, the more objects they can dominate simultaneously, though that''s not always the case. Differences in proficiency with consciousness-union techniques create significant variations in the upper and lower limits. These free-floating objects can be taken over by the opponent''s domain as soon as they enter it, so they are mainly used to interfere or overload the opponent''s control.


    This is the best chance for a weaker psychic to turn the tide, as precise manipulation relies on skill and practice, not just power."


    Qana''s muscles tensed as he resisted my suppression, his eyes glowing red.


    It feels... strange.


    Even though Qana had mentioned that I''m stronger in terms of psychic power, it still feels odd to truly experience it.


    But the Sword Master isn''t going to let me off easy. The waves he''s channeling are difficult to control. My endurance has never been great, and if the same applies to willpower output, then this stalemate won''t end well for me.


    As I considered how to maintain my advantage, I sensed several objects flying toward me--Qana had reshaped the spheres into twelve blades aimed directly at my head.


    I seized them with my willpower, only to realize that the adamantite spheres I had been controlling were being taken over. Hastily, I regained control, but one sphere slipped out of my grasp, forcing me to dodge to avoid getting hit.


    After regaining my footing, I saw Qana dismantling the sphere into dozens of fine needles, launching them at me again. There were too many, and I worried that if I released my grip on the other adamantite pieces, Qana would seize them again. So, I combined all the floating adamantite into a unified structure, forcing them to stop.


    Qana didn''t waste the moment I was distracted. As my suppression weakened, the Sword Master leaped at me, sword raised for a strike.


    I thrust all the adamantite I held toward him, forcing the Sword Master back beyond the range where his broadsword could reach me. I made sure not to injure him, avoiding any contact between the adamantite and Qana''s blood.


    With a wave of his hand, he swept the metal aside and charged at me once more.


    "The third step is adamantite weaponry. Holding a weapon made from this unique material can have a profound impact on battles between psychics.


    The basic application doesn''t necessarily require the weapon itself. Adamantite can serve as a wave amplifier, enhancing various abilities. But if the weapon or tool is recognized as part of one''s own existence circle, it becomes immune to direct internal interference from other psychics, including control snatches. This is crucial in combat against other psychics, which is why professionals in this field always strive to acquire adamantite weapons or at least carry gear they perceive as extensions of their body.


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    Once an adamantite weapon is infused with a sufficient level of consciousness, it can resonate. That resonance, if it finds the correct frequency, can theoretically cut through any material at the molecular level. Beyond interacting with the physical space, it can emit inverse waves to weaken or counteract an opponent''s waves, or even their domain.


    So--a weapon that cannot be taken over, that can bypass defense fields, and that can interfere with the opponent''s consciousness domain. To some extent, wielding an adamantite weapon forces combat back into the physical realm, leveling the playing field for psychics with a power discrepancy."


    Just as I settled into the Frost stance, Qana had already closed the distance between us, delivering a swift and unhesitant strike. The broadsword''s length gave him an advantage in reach, but in a battle with so many different methods of attack, that advantage wasn''t particularly crucial.


    I deflected the sword''s trajectory while pushing Qana back, simultaneously pulling the blades formed from adamantine back towards him from behind. The swordmaster had to divert his attention to block the blades, preventing him from fully counteracting the force pushing him from the front. This destabilized his stance, and I seized the opportunity, stepping into his range and sweeping my blade in a wide arc with the Glacier stance.


    With a sharp clang, Qana brought his broadsword down, stopping my attack. The collision sent a shockwave through the hilt of my sword, numbing my hand and nearly causing me to lose my grip.


    I raised the hilt with both hands, retracting my blade while maintaining the lock between our swords, preventing his broadsword from breaking free. But Qana had no intention of letting me retreat. He took a step closer, maintaining the downward pressure with Winter Chill, while sending the blade-shaped adamantine back at me, circling around his sides in an arc.


    Using his superior weight and strength, he gradually forced my defense to collapse, leaving me with no spare focus to wrest control of the adamantine from him. But that wasn''t my true goal.


    With a crunching sound, the ground beneath Qana''s right foot shattered, causing him to stumble. I had spent considerable time studying the composition of this black material.


    Qana''s balance wavered, a look of surprise crossing his face. I twisted the hilt, successfully rolling my sword and breaking through his defensive stance, smashing the guard into his face. Simultaneously, I seized control of the flying blades, redirecting them on the shortest path back toward Qana in a near-perfect angular arc.


    The swordmaster, struggling to regain his footing, managed to sweep his broadsword horizontally, generating a powerful wave that deflected all the incoming blades. Immediately after, I noticed dozens of additional slashing attacks, transformed into white streaks, rushing toward me. I quickly regained control of the adamantine blades, generating a resonant wave to neutralize all the threats.


    Twenty-four blades orbited around me, each following its own trajectory. I programmed them to move in a satellite-like pattern, allowing me to control them with minimal effort.


    Qana wiped the blood from his nose and grinned at me. I recognized that expression; it was one he showed only when he was in a particularly good mood.


    "The forging of a complete adamantine weapon is no easy task, making those who possess one exceedingly rare. And those capable of awakening such a weapon are even fewer.


    An adamantine weapon that hasn''t been awakened is no different from an ordinary adamantine weapon in battle. The process of awakening, in essence, brings the adamantine into our dimension, allowing this special metal to truly interact with the world. In simple terms, this amplifies everything that an adamantine weapon could originally do--by a tremendous, almost unimaginable amount."


    "Ukayok!" Qana shouted, wielding Winter Chill with one hand and drawing a circle with it.


    In the next instant, our chimeric domain shattered--Winter Chill''s resonance created a space that my consciousness couldn''t reach.


    This was entirely different from the last time Qana had awakened Winter Chill. Now, the broadsword in his hand didn''t even look like a sword--it resembled something from a higher dimension, commanding its own independent space. I understood then that this was the true nature of an adamantine weapon, revealed only when it was awakened with enough willpower.


    Qana must have been using some form of body-enhancing wave, for he closed the distance between us in a single bound, swinging Winter Chill at me. I narrowly dodged the blade, flipping backward while summoning my will to neutralize the shockwave and wind pressure generated by the strike. I also maneuvered the adamantine blades to block the slashes coming from beyond my conscious sphere.


    Each swing of the sword was a confrontation both in the realm of consciousness and in the physical world.


    This made me wonder--when I, too, can awaken an adamantine weapon, will the battle extend into a third domain? Is this what a battle between powerful psychics looks like?


    But now clearly wasn''t the time for such thoughts.


    I clumsily dodged one attack after another, retreating whenever I could, seizing any chance to catch my breath.


    I brought down half the ceiling, but Qana didn''t even change his stance--the black boulder shattered into large fragments, and the swordmaster charged through the center. Winter Chill slashed through the air as if cutting through space itself, tracing a distorted light, and descended upon me with a glacial strike from above.


    With my heel against the wall, I knew there was nowhere to retreat; I had to take this hit.


    Is that even possible?


    Winter Chill... I couldn''t even be sure if what I was seeing was the broadsword itself, because the wave it was emitting now felt more like... a galaxy of countless shimmering silver lights.


    But whatever it was, there was only one way to find out if I could withstand it.


    I locked eyes with Qana, whose eyes glowed red, and gripped my sword''s hilt tightly.


    The swordmaster always claimed that he wasn''t good with words, that he only understood things related to combat. But I think, in this unreserved battle, I finally understood what he was trying to convey.


    Why does Qana care so much about me? Why is he so kind to me? Why... does he never clearly explain these complex and difficult matters?


    There is no reason, nor is there any need for one.


    I have to experience and understand it myself, because only I can give myself the answers I truly need.


    I think, among all those grand questions I thought were impossible to answer, I finally have a clear idea about at least one of them.


    I released my domain and poured all my willpower into my hand-and-a-half sword. Ignoring the piercing shriek and the intense vibrations that felt like they would shatter the weapon, I let the surge of power well up inside me, filling me... filling everything.


    Qana and I clashed swords amidst the dazzling light and thundering sounds around us, and in that moment, I could clearly hear all the words he had been trying to convey.


    "So, we now understand how psychics use their powers in battle: domains, domination, waves.


    No matter which method is used, it all relies on understanding. Among the rules of psychic abilities, the highest, most important, and most unshakable one is understanding.


    Understanding oneself determines the nature and strength of the domain; understanding things determines the effectiveness of domination; and all kinds of waves, whether in reception or construction, require corresponding knowledge to comprehend.


    Doesn''t that suggest something?


    So, with that said, there''s only one core question left about psychic combat--why do psychics fight?"

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.5

    "Maybe next time..." I sat on the snow-covered platform, watching the variously sized black fragments slowly moving themselves into place. "...we don''t need to tear the roof off?" I tried to joke, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere. My throat was still sore from the time I spent screaming earlier when Qana reset my dislocated shoulder.


    Qana merely nodded, his gaze fixed on the training space, half of which had been blasted away.


    Given the size of the commotion without drawing attention, I could only guess that Qana had set up a containment circle from the start. Seeing the surrounding terrain undamaged largely confirmed my suspicion.


    So that wasn''t even Qana''s limit--he needed to expend the energy that could have blocked the final impact on maintaining the containment circle. What could an Alpha-level psychic achieve if they used their full strength?


    No, I''m not talking about sinking a continent or crashing an asteroid into some place.


    But rather... what could be done.


    What could I do?


    "Tomorrow, same time," Qana said, standing up.


    "Yes, Master." I stood up as well, bowing to him with my ears lowered.


    Qana left without a word.


    I watched the swordmaster''s retreating figure and faintly noticed some stiffness in his gait.


    Perhaps it was just my imagination.


    I turned back to look at the black fragments scattered across the ground, slowly moving around. One of the larger ones seemed to be struggling to climb a slope, stuck in a loop.


    I walked over, grabbed it by both ends, and lifted it to the higher part of the platform.


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    Wow, it''s heavier than I expected! Or maybe I''m just too weak?


    I glanced at my arms, then shrugged.


    I noticed that the fragments moved according to a certain pattern, following separate routes in different groups. The paths didn''t cross, didn''t alternate, and didn''t interfere with each other.


    Interesting.


    I spent a good while observing the room as it slowly repaired itself, occasionally helping some of the larger pieces that got stuck. I then realized they never got lost, even if I placed the fragments off their original paths. They could always find the shortest way back to their route.


    I need this ability.


    So I kept studying it for a while longer until I couldn''t stop yawning, and my eyelids grew heavy. Then I returned to my quarters.


    The next few weeks followed the same routine. I ended up with plenty of bruises and soreness after each session, but Qana always stopped before causing any real damage.


    I knew he was trying to conserve the nanodrone reserves.


    Qana returned to his usual stern self, and we barely spoke. I could understand the unspoken anxiety and worry he didn''t want to show, but... didn''t he warn me? Be careful what you wish for.


    Aether was still clearly unsure about some things, and our conversations were brief or deliberately focused on unrelated topics. But more often, silence filled our exchanges.


    I must admit, the uneasy feeling from this unspoken pressure... it scares me a little. And I can''t talk to anyone about it--not even Piqsirpoq, as I don''t want to drag him into something worse.


    So the moments when I can truly relax are when I''m in the concealed training space, completely shielded by adamantine.


    Today, Qana left again without a word. I even managed to knock Winter Chill out of his hands, which shows just how distracted the swordmaster was.


    But I... I don''t know what to do.


    He''s building a wall between us.


    I know it''s some kind of precaution.


    Shaking my head, I didn''t want to dwell on it. I believe this is just a phase, and the issues will eventually pass.


    Removing the terminal from my arm, I set it to play Vivaldi''s "Winter"--I recently discovered that the rhythm and melody help me better control the flow.


    Expanding my consciousness, I enveloped the entire hidden room, commanding all the black fragments to float into the air.


    Thousands... no... tens of thousands of fragments, all varying in size, rotated and drifted within my awareness, following the path of inertia.


    As if I was holding the world in the palm of my paw.


    Though it seemed like there were many different pieces of varying shapes and sizes, it was like assembling a puzzle--each was a part of a larger, grander picture. It was a bit like hive mind consciousness: one for all, all for one.


    Thus, I could effortlessly control them with synchronized resonance, perfectly guiding them. Following the trembling rhythm and soaring melody, everything spiraled as if it had its own will.


    Countless... delicate snowflakes.


    In my domain, all the fragments gathered and dispersed according to their own rhythm, eventually converging into one. Every smallest piece knew its place, and every empty corner awaited its fragment.


    A snowstorm in full dance.


    Amid the stirring strings, I guided all the fragments back to their rightful places, and the room gradually restored itself. Finally, as the notes paused, I bowed alone under the only light source, feeling the echoes ripple through all possible dimensions.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.6

    I was floating in an endless void.


    Qana had mentioned that this was a common experience for psychics, especially those who had the ability to enter the "Tel''aran''rhiod."


    Apparently, as a psychic, even sleep couldn''t be a simple escape into dreams.


    I looked around, trying to determine if there was any concept of up, down, left, or right in this space, or even any kind of dimension. But no matter which "direction" I chose, there was only infinite darkness extending outward, leaving me unsure if orientation or distance had any meaning here.


    So, how was I supposed to explore this place?


    Sending out a wave for reconnaissance seemed like a good idea, but as I prepared to release it, another thought occurred to me--was my physical body present in this space? If I sent out a wave, would my physical form do the same?


    Maybe it''s better not to take the risk.


    But does this mean I have to stay like this until I wake up?


    I glanced around the empty space once more.


    No, I need to find a way out. I still can''t fall asleep in this place, even though I''m incredibly bored.


    But then again, how exactly do I...? Wait, was that... a sound?


    I wasn''t even sure if listening made any sense in this state, but I still strained to hear, slowly turning to locate the direction of the sound.


    No... it wasn''t just a sound; it was a wave... Piqsirpoq, I recognized his wave pattern.


    Surprise, confusion, fear, anxiety, pain... Damn it, did something go wrong again?


    I slapped my cheeks hard and tugged on my tail a few times, but it didn''t work like people claimed--this didn''t wake me up from the dream--if "Tel''aran''rhiod" really was a dream.


    I wasn''t sure how I did it, but I think I managed to move closer to the source of the wave.


    It wasn''t just Piqsirpoq; there were other waves too, though they weren''t very clear. Were they the kidnappers who had escaped earlier, now bringing reinforcements? Had they been hiding all this time, avoiding detection? So, did they manage to find him again?


    No, I had to get closer. I needed more information...


    Suddenly, a dull thud and the pain on my snout made me open my eyes and realize I had fallen to the ground.


    Great, at least I confirmed something about "Tel''aran''rhiod."


    I awkwardly got up, rubbing my nose, only to find that I was wearing nothing but pajamas, without any shoes. The cold from the floor seeped into my feet, traveling up my spine and sending a huge shiver through me.


    I wasn''t sure where I was. Hadrian''s Wall was basically a super-sized underground maze, and with my terrible sense of direction, I never dared stray from the usual paths. So finding myself in a completely unfamiliar corridor wasn''t really surprising. I''d probably never been to about ninety percent of Hadrian''s Wall.


    But I could still sense that specific wave. Just like in the dream, Piqsirpoq''s wave was coming from behind an otherwise unremarkable door. Although it was faint, I was certain it was his. As for the other vague waves from before, there was no sign of them.


    I placed my hand on the door separating us and understood why. It was covered in adamantine, shielding the area. But why could I still feel Piqsirpoq''s wave? Maybe there was some kind of connection between us, or perhaps... this was a trap set specifically for me.


    So, the kidnappers really do have an inside man in Snow, don''t they?


    I glanced around, not seeing any big nets about to fall on me, so it didn''t seem like a trap.


    I tried to contact Qana, but there was no response. Either the adamantine barrier was larger than I thought, or the swordsman was dealing with some trouble of his own.


    I should go for help, but I had no idea where I was, and I wasn''t sure I could find this place again if I left. Damn... I never imagined my poor sense of direction would one day become a life-and-death issue.


    As I hesitated, Piqsirpoq''s emotional wave hit me again--fear and anxiety.


    I sighed, closed my eyes, and let my body relax.


    Qana had said that if he wasn''t around, he''d ensure I wouldn''t be noticed for a while, right?


    I forced myself not to think about what that implied and instead expanded my consciousness, beginning to gather my power. Sure enough, the adamantine barrier in this area was massive, obviously built for some specific purpose. I couldn''t help but wonder who the mole in Snow really was.


    No, that''s not important; all of this can wait until later.


    Piqsirpoq''s fearful wave struck again, as if urging me to act.


    Gathering enough power, I formed a shockwave and hurled it at the door.


    With a loud, screeching metallic sound, the door twisted into a mangled metal mass and flew backward before halting mid-air. Someone had caught it with Domination.


    A psychic!


    But I had expected this, so I immediately stepped into the space beyond the door, ready for a fight.


    When I saw Master Ontara staring at me, jaw dropped in shock, my anger flared to an unbearable level. You traitor! I''d thought you were just eccentric!


    But then I noticed two other gazes. Aside from Piqsirpoq''s confused and surprised expression, another pair of deep blue eyes glared at me, making all my emotions evaporate, leaving only the shame that made me want to tuck my tail between my legs.


    Qana''s brows were furrowed tightly, and his eyes swirled with a blizzard of rage, as if he intended to freeze everything in his sight--or maybe just me.


    Piqsirpoq''s confusion had clearly increased due to my sudden appearance. He looked around at everyone else, unsure how to react.


    Master Ontara''s expression remained unchanged, eyes wide and mouth agape, as if something was stuck.


    Another Snow I didn''t recognize had his head hidden beneath a hood, his face obscured, but his rigid posture was unmistakable.


    Two others stood with their backs to me, wearing identical robes--one tall, the other short.


    Five people surrounded Piqsirpoq, while my brother held a silver metal sphere in his hands.


    It didn''t take me long to figure out who these people were.


    It was "they."


    I had walked right into one of their operations. Glancing again at Piqsirpoq, I noticed he was holding a adamantine sphere. I could guess this was some sort of assessment, a recruitment test.


    For Rationalism''s sake, I think I have just eliminated all possibilities except the worst-case scenario.


    "I must say, under normal circumstances, I don''t particularly like surprises," said the tall figure, his back still turned to me. His voice was... unusual. No, it wasn''t just his voice, but the way he spoke--it was almost as if he were singing. And I had just realized that he was even taller than Qana. "But... Master Takahashi, you''ve set up a ''avoidance circle,'' haven''t you?"


    "Of course." The shorter figure turned around and glanced at me. "I don''t know how he managed to get through."


    "That makes things interesting." The tall one slowly turned around, his movements possessing a certain unearthly grace. The sound of fabric brushing against itself was... different. "I wonder if this... gentleman would care to introduce himself to us?" Though his face remained hidden beneath his hood, I noticed his pupils--they were spindle-shaped.


    "He''s a mutt..." The unknown Snow began to speak, but the tall figure raised a finger, silencing him. His finger... Was that... some kind of glove?


    "Allow me to apologize on his behalf. Not all our members are as polite as they should be, and that''s my responsibility." His tone was calm, but Snow, who had spoken earlier, bowed his head.


    The tall figure lowered his hood, revealing his face. I understood now--the thing I had seen earlier wasn''t a glove; it was scales. He was a dragon, a living, breathing dragon. Spindle-shaped pupils rested in the center of his golden-red eyes, and his reddish-brown scales shimmered faintly with a metallic luster. Only now did I recognize that the outlines on his robe were actually wings folded neatly behind him.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "Farsight Seer, the Sunflare." He bowed his head toward me, the spines on his body flattening. Ah, so that''s how that structure works.


    "Takahashi Daiki." The shorter figure also removed his hood and bowed. He was a bighorn sheep--those horns were unmistakable. However, it was clear he wasn''t entirely willing; he only followed suit because the dragon had done so first. After he straightened up, his horizontal pupils regarded me with an unfriendly gaze.


    "Richter," I replied, bowing in the manner of a gray wolf.


    As I rose, I sneaked a glance at Qana, but the murderous look on his face made me quickly avert my gaze.


    "This just got even more interesting." The dragon''s laughter was... unique. He turned his head, looking over the now tense Snow, the ever-ready-to-kill Qana, and Master Ontara, who still hadn''t recovered from his shock. "I don''t normally like to interfere in the political affairs of other races, even though I personally oppose certain customs." As he moved, the sound of fabric brushing against scales accompanied him. "But, I am quite curious as to why..."


    His movements were too fast--far beyond my dynamic vision''s ability to track--but I could sense the disturbance in the air. Having practiced enough with Qana, I reflexively deployed my domain, catching the metallic sphere he threw.


    I stared at the silver, adamantine orb suspended just in front of my snout, feeling a fresh wave of emotions erupting around me.


    "He''s a mutt, impossible!" Snow shouted, the one I didn''t recognize, his outburst drawing another laugh from the dragon.


    Qana wrinkled his nose, growling, his entire body bristling. Meanwhile, Master Ontara remained in the same posture, unmoving, as if time had stopped for him ever since I entered the room.


    "At least that explains how he got past my avoidance circle," the bighorn sheep snorted unhappily.


    "Well, I think I''ve got a good idea of what''s going on here." The dragon waved his hand dismissively. "Normally, I''d hold the Senate responsible for such a severe oversight, but..." He looked at me, tilting his head slightly, his pupils narrowing a bit. What did that mean for a dragon? "But I''m too curious now, so curious that I''ve decided to overlook this insignificant matter."


    The towering dragon walked toward me, and I struggled not to show any signs of discomfort.


    He was really, really tall.


    "Do you know who we are, Richter?" He spoke slowly, almost singing, and I thought I glimpsed his forked, pink tongue.


    I could only shake my head. I was quite certain that whatever understanding I had of "they" wasn''t going to help in this situation.


    "We are the ones who truly control how the world operates," he explained to me plainly, as if stating the most obvious fact. "We pull the strings from behind the scenes, ensuring that everything unfolds according to plan." He glanced over at Piqsirpoq. "Just before you interrupted, I was explaining to your brother how we could use his abilities." The dragon leaned closer to me. "We recruit members with potential, training them. Generally, age is ..."


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Qana''s hand moving toward the hilt of Winter Chill. I met the Swordmaster''s gaze, confirming his intent. This wasn''t just an act of impatience--Qana was planning to draw his sword and unleash hell while the dragon''s attention was focused on me.


    In that moment, countless thoughts flashed through my mind.


    Qana had done everything he could to prevent me from interacting with ''they''. But now, we were interacting.


    They planned to recruit Piqsirpoq, and Qana didn''t seem to object.


    From the very limited information I had, these people held significant power and knew the truth about psychic abilities--and the world.


    The dragon and the bighorn sheep were undoubtedly psychics. From Qana''s reaction, the dragon was stronger than him. I hadn''t seen any obvious weapons on the dragon, and Qana might have intended to use the advantage of Winter Chill''s presence to strike first. He was planning to face the others alone, and his expression didn''t convey confidence, more like he had accepted the likelihood of his own death.


    There were too few cards on the table. All the players were sitting there, calculating their own moves, while I, knowing nothing, had been pushed into the center like a chip.


    Time around me slowed to a crawl. I still didn''t know how I was doing this or whether this phenomenon was something I had caused.


    I glanced at Piqsirpoq, trying to gauge his thoughts.


    Nervousness, unease, and fear of the unknown--he had sensed Qana''s tension. But beyond that, there was... anticipation--the opportunity to reshape the world with his will was being offered to him. No longer a flight of fancy or a mirage, it was really happening. For that, he was prepared to reach out and seize it, no matter the cost.


    Then, there was Qana.


    I noticed a faint reddish glow starting to spread from the deep blue of the Swordmaster''s eyes. The thing he feared most had come to pass, and Qana would do whatever it took to keep me from getting involved with ''they''. Even if it meant his death.


    So what about me?


    I suddenly recalled one of Master Eulap''s lectures about making choices when faced with a dilemma.


    I regretted not understanding what Master was trying to convey. If I had another chance, I would listen to the philosophers'' wisdom with serious humility.


    I always seemed to be trapped in various complicated predicaments, my past shackling me, leaving me nowhere to go. Just being who I was, born as a mutt, left my life with only a few very limited options, so there wasn''t much to consider--it was just like water flowing downhill.


    But what about now?


    I was certain that even if Qana somehow managed to get us all out of here, if what the dragon claimed was true--that they were the ones who truly controlled how the world operated--they would never let us go. Our future would be one of constant hiding, and that''s if both Qana and I survived.


    But if I decided to plunge into the future that Qana was dpsychicately trying to keep me away from?


    Aside from Qana''s clear dislike, everything else was unknown. But one thing was certain: this choice could remove the possibility of Qana dying in the upcoming conflict.


    Maybe I should have been more forceful in demanding answers from Qana about what was really going on, so I wouldn''t be stuck in this bizarre predicament.


    What exactly were "they" doing? After recruiting those with potential and training them, what was the "plan" that they were ensuring would unfold? I knew nothing.


    It didn''t matter; thinking about it wouldn''t help. After all, I had always assumed there was still time--even though the Swordmaster constantly reminded me of the opposite.


    I looked at Qana again, making my decision. It was actually much easier than I had imagined. The difference between these two possible outcomes, given the known variables, was too vast--there was no room for struggle.


    If one day, I want to protect those who can''t protect themselves, I think I can''t always rely on others to protect me.


    Sorry, Master. This is probably a late-blooming rebellious phase.


    "No!" My voice was much louder than I had expected, but it at least startled Qana enough to stop him, achieving the desired effect.


    "Sorry... what did you say?" The dragon was interrupted, but he tilted his head, politely trying to understand my meaning.


    "Uh..." My gaze quickly darted among everyone, noticing the increasing dissatisfaction of the bighorn sheep. "I mean, age shouldn''t be an issue." The dragon raised an eyebrow, making me doubt if I had completely missed the point. Meanwhile, the bighorn sheep''s displeasure was so palpable that I could almost read it directly from the air--this gave me an idea. "I directly passed through..." I pretended to forget how to address him, and the effect was immediate. "...through your circle. Doesn''t that prove I have enough potential?" I also made sure to feign ignorance of that term.


    Regardless of whether they bought it, the smile on the dragon''s face and the deep red flush on the bighorn sheep''s showed that things were unfolding just the way I wanted--well, maybe.


    "I just said, ''Age won''t be an issue; you''ve already shown enough potential.''" The dragon''s smile deepened, making me awkwardly scratch my ear. "But now that you mention it, you''ve given me an interesting idea." He glanced at the bighorn sheep, then flashed me a grin full of sharp teeth. Ah, this must be what they mean by ''backfiring.'' "Master Takahashi, what do you say..." The bighorn sheep waved a hand, cutting off the dragon''s unfinished sentence, signaling that he would take over from here.


    "Carnivores always think their power surpasses everyone else''s," he spat disdainfully, lifting his right hand and drawing a circle in the air with his index finger. A brown ring emerged from the ground, etching itself around me and the bighorn sheep, emitting a dim light. The dragon stepped back a few paces, exiting the enclosed circular area. "This is a very simple strength test. I will compress you, force out your consciousness circle, so you can use your power." I already felt the air thickening as the bighorn sheep expanded his consciousness field. "Then I''ll start pushing you, gradually increasing the force. If you can stay within the circle for one minute, I''ll acknowledge that you have enough ''potential.''" The last two words were spoken through gritted teeth. I had thought herbivores couldn''t make such expressions.


    "No, this is too dangerous!" Master Ontara seemed to have finally reacted after a long delay, exclaiming in panic and looking to Qana for support.


    "I don''t see any problem," said the unfamiliar Snow, shrugging.


    "Just teach him a lesson," Qana said, his hand still gripping the sword hilt, trembling slightly. "It''ll be troublesome if you kill him."


    "Hah!" The bighorn sheep laughed mockingly. "I''ll try."


    This was a bit awkward. I think Qana was talking to me.


    "You two, be serious; this is no joke!" Master Ontara said, but Qana didn''t respond, and the other Snow just shrugged again. "Richter, apologize now! You don''t know what Daiki is capable of..."


    Hmm... I guess I misjudged Master Ontara. But I only tilted my head at him, feigning confusion.


    "Master Sunflare..." He turned to the dragon for help, but Sunflare merely glanced at me.


    "I think the decision rests with the little wolf." Sunflare smiled at me, then crossed his arms over his chest.


    "Let''s get started, puppy!" The bighorn sheep, clearly growing impatient, said bluntly.


    I felt... the pressure. He said this was to force out my consciousness circle, but Qana never did anything like this. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the bighorn sheep was an herbivore?


    I realized he was lying; he had already started pushing me. Caught unprepared, my foot slipped, and I saw the bighorn sheep''s face light up with satisfaction.


    The force was weak, something I could resist just by tensing up, but that... compression, it bothered me.


    He was... probing me, peering into my... memories.


    What?


    It felt like my brain was being directly stirred, and in some way, he was heightening my sense of shame.


    All the most unbearable memories, the sleepless nights, the solitude that felt too dead amid the cheer and noise, the cold I couldn''t shake even as I hugged myself tightly...


    Master Ontara was right--I really had no idea what psychics were capable of.


    "You''re just a mutt!"


    "Nobody wants you."


    "Name?"


    "How could he have one? He''s just a mutt!"


    All the hurtful words echoed in my mind, like violently tearing open wounds that had barely begun to scab over. But even more terrifying was the void, the nothingness of being utterly ignored, as if I didn''t exist.


    The bighorn sheep was laughing.


    I wasn''t sure if this was part of the normal process. If this was the kind of test my brother went through, I could understand why he reacted the way he did. Regardless, I just wanted to end this quickly, so I released a portion of my consciousness, preparing to counter the bighorn sheep''s push.


    But clearly, he was waiting for this moment.


    The bighorn sheep had no intention of gradually increasing the pressure. I could feel the ripples of consciousness swelling within him. At this intensity, if I were an ordinary person, I wouldn''t be surprised if I were thrown ten meters away.


    But he wasn''t planning to stop there. More images flashed through my mind--Piqsirpoq with his belly slit open, that wolfhound still rummaging through his organs, searching for something. Then Qana, using the broken Winter Chill to prop himself up, kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, motionless. Next came the boundless void, filled with countless fragments and corpses of all sizes. I knew, somehow, that all the screams reaching my ears were caused by me. The following scene was much quieter--Momus stood on the dark, lightless sea, slowly sinking. He reached out to me for help, but I couldn''t reach him, and could only watch as the little wolf cub finally drowned, his expression one of disappointment, though not surprise.


    This was an overstep.


    I expanded my consciousness, forming a complete domain.


    The bighorn sheep looked utterly shocked, and whatever he had done to show me those images, it no longer worked.


    The power he unleashed was like a feeble breeze crashing against a solid wall, dissipating without a trace.


    Suddenly overwhelmed by shame and anger, the bighorn sheep summoned a force several times stronger, sending shockwaves barreling toward me. This time, the impact was enough to kill an ordinary person instantly.


    I felt the ripples of Master Ontara''s consciousness as he prepared to intervene. But it was too late; the bighorn sheep''s wave was about to hit me.


    My brief life so far had been spent dealing with bullies. I actually pitied them, on multiple levels. I won''t say that I wasn''t pitiful for being bullied, but that doesn''t change the fact that they were pitiable too. And I firmly believe that pitiful people should support one another.


    So today, I decided to do this bighorn sheep a favor.


    Fueled by the anger he had just stirred up, I summoned the corresponding power and sent a shockwave right back at him.


    I can only say that I might have underestimated my own anger.


    When I came to, I saw the bighorn sheep floating in midair, his limbs twisted at strange angles, and the astonished looks everyone else was giving me.


    Except for Master Sunflare, whom I believe was laughing like a dragon.


    And of course, Qana--his hand still gripping the sword hilt. I could see he was considering whether to strike while we still had the advantage, and now the bighorn sheep was down.


    I gave him a small but firm shake of my head. The sword master hesitated, then although his body relaxed slightly, his expression remained conflicted.


    "I think this counts as ''consent.'' No overinterpretation here, right, Master Takahashi?" The dragon waved a hand in front of the bighorn sheep''s unfocused eyes, singing in delight? "Tomorrow morning at six o''clock, at that... what do you call it again?" He tilted his head as if trying to recall something. " Practice...... training yes, training grounds. Just bring the essentials; everything else can be printed after we arrive."


    "Tomorrow morning?" I wasn''t prepared for this conclusion at all and asked, suppressing my surprise.


    "We originally planned to leave right after the test. But given that..." He glanced at the bighorn sheep floating in midair, unconscious. "...you''ve given us such an interesting ''surprise,'' Master Takahashi might want to take a look at your medical facilities."


    The dragon scratched his chin with a claw, scanning the room.


    "Master Qana, if it''s convenient, could you escort our two little wolves back? I''m sure this interesting night has been too long for young ones in their growing years." The dragon spoke again, and his authoritative tone confirmed he was some sort of high-ranking figure. "Master Ontara, would you kindly show us the way to the infirmary?"


    Qana walked over to me, his face grim. It made my ears droop involuntarily, unable to meet the sword master''s gaze.


    "Oh, one more thing," the dragon called out to us. "Although there will be other opportunities, please allow me the honor this time." He winked at me, flashing a sly smile. "Richter, the council welcomes you."

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.7

    Piqsirpoq''s quarters were on a higher floor, and Qana commanded him in an unquestionable tone to head up first. My brother glanced back at us a few times, his expression complicated, but he obediently stepped onto the stairs.


    Qana and I walked on in silence, but there were too many unspoken words between us, enough to suffocate. Before I could gather the courage to speak, Qana stopped.


    He placed a hand on my shoulder from behind and turned me around. The towering swordmaster gazed down at me with his deep blue eyes, and I noticed that he was trembling slightly.


    "There''s still time," Qana said. "We can leave right now, just the two of us. Once we reach Ceres, even if that old serpent is still asleep, I can request an audience with the Darkfang..."


    For one of the rare moments in my life, I chose to follow my feelings instead of my reason.


    I stepped forward and hugged Qana, burying my head against his strong frame. Qana froze, momentarily at a loss for words, but soon his body relaxed, and he hugged me back.


    The wall between us crumbled.


    "I just realized how terrified I am of losing you." The swordmaster, covered in blood, lying motionless--I''d never imagined how much that image could frighten me. "Please... don''t ever do that again, okay?" My voice trembled, but I forced myself not to cry. "I hate... being left behind."


    For a long time, Qana didn''t speak. He just rested his chin on my head in silence. This... the scent of pine.


    "And how could I ever do that to you?" A memory flashed in my mind of Qana walking alongside Master Willow in the corridor, his expression the happiest I''d ever seen. "Besides... ''those who truly control the workings of the world,'' don''t you think I could... accomplish something?" I sniffed, not wanting to wipe my nose on Qana.


    "You... you..." His tone was hesitant, like he was chewing on something very bitter. "You will..." After several attempts, Qana gave up on the words he couldn''t say, swallowing down the fragmented phrases.


    He released me and took a step back, looking down into my eyes.


    "Everything comes at a price. And often, the price is too high," he said, smoothing down my ruffled hair and lifting my ears back up. "Especially for someone as kind-hearted as you."


    "I want to protect those who can''t protect themselves," I reaffirmed, feeling something solidify my resolve. "Maybe I''ll have a different answer in the future, but I think this is the purpose of having abilities." I spoke slowly, meeting Qana''s deep blue gaze. "For those with power to shoulder the responsibility and protect the weak." I saw myself reflected in his eyes. "And I have power."


    "I know," Qana said softly. "I''ve always known." He removed his hand from my head.


    "And... I want to receive full training," I said quietly. "Not just in abilities, but in the other aspects related to building something."


    Qana responded with silence. We both knew that wasn''t his area of expertise.


    "The Council isn''t a charity," Qana finally said after a long pause, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "What they demand as a price... that''s why I say, with power comes dangers you can''t even imagine... You''re not obligated to risk yourself for those who don''t care about you... It''s not worth it..." Qana gritted his teeth, struggling to force out the broken words between them.


    "I think these are things I should decide for myself, don''t you?" I must be in my rebellious phase. "To experience, to challenge, to question, to... find my own answers."


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Qana was silent again. I forced my ears to stay upright, refusing to let guilt make them droop.


    "Besides, it''s not like I won''t be coming back." I tried to joke, but then suddenly realized something. "I can come back, right?"


    "Oh, Rationalism above!" Qana said with a bitter smile. "Your obliviousness in some areas is truly surreal."


    I scratched my ears awkwardly.


    "Six years," Qana explained. "Under normal circumstances, you''ll complete your training in six years, and then... there''s the deployment phase."


    "What''s the deployment phase?" I tilted my head and asked him.


    "That''s something you''ll have to experience for yourself," Qana said slowly. "I need to let go, don''t I?"


    I didn''t answer because I think we both understood each other''s thoughts.


    "I almost forgot, about the internship at Oceanus Procellarum University," I said hurriedly, suddenly remembering in the midst of all the tension. "Could you... pass the opportunity to Momus? After all... it looks like I won''t be needing it."


    Qana looked a bit surprised but didn''t ask for further explanation. He simply nodded.


    After that, we both fell silent again.


    "I''m going to miss you," I said, realizing how awkward it sounded as soon as the words left my mouth. So I scratched my ears, feeling them grow warm.


    "I will too," Qana replied with a slight nasal tone. "Get some rest. You''ll need it tomorrow." He lightly patted my arm. "I still regret not getting a good night''s sleep back then." He gave me another smile before turning and walking away.


    I stood in the empty corridor, watching Qana''s figure fade until his footsteps were completely out of earshot.


    The terminal notified me that it was time. I turned off the alarm and sat up in bed.


    Looking around the room, I savored the strange feeling.


    Just like every other routine I''ve repeated countless times--the other wolves in the dormitory emitted steady, rhythmic pulses, a sign of deep sleep. A few had sharp, jagged spikes mixed in, probably having nightmares. But everyone was still asleep.


    Except for me.


    It''s hard to describe the odd feeling of realizing this would be the last time I did this. But I guess the part of me that came from Gray made it easy to let go of such irrational unease.


    I left the dormitory silently and stepped into the quiet corridor.


    I expected memories to flood back, or something like that. But clearly, I didn''t care much for this place that didn''t care about me. I was more interested in the future and all its possibilities.


    Turning down the familiar hallway, I entered the corridor leading to the training ground.


    A tall figure stood at the end of the hallway.


    "From here on, it''s up to you," Qana said, glancing toward the direction of the training ground. "Not all dangers are visible, so always be prepared with your defense circle. Make friends, find companions you can trust--it''s crucial for survival. When you feel lost or hesitant, listen to your heart; it will never lead you astray. Don''t be afraid to show your strength--you''re going to become the most powerful psychic in history. Make sure everyone knows that. But that doesn''t mean you shouldn''t be humble--humility is always a good teacher. Never underestimate the strength of herbivores; appearances can be deceiving, and a powerful psychic should never be fooled by outward illusions. And don''t mess with the food synthesizer, it''s much more dangerous than it looks..."


    I realized Qana''s advice could go on forever, so I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. I really felt I should have started doing this sooner.


    "...Don''t... don''t let them corrupt you, no matter how sweet their words may sound!" I could hear the choking in Qana''s voice, but I just kept listening quietly. "...Always remember who you are, and always be proud of yourself." He touched the top of my head with his snout, and I felt the warm, wet breath. "And I will always be proud of you."


    After some time, he gently pushed me back and glanced once more toward the training ground.


    "It''s about time," he said softly, wiping his eyes.


    There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn''t know where to start, so I just nodded in response.


    "Take this, it''s made especially for you." Qana unbuckled the sword at his waist, and I noticed it wasn''t Winter Chill.


    It was a standard hand-and-a-half sword, with a crossguard that had small hexagons at each end, and the pommel was also a hexagon. The scabbard was pure white, though its material was indiscernible. The very tip of the scabbard was tinged with a faint color--like ash mixed with snow and then spread thin.


    "This is Gray Snow. It will take good care of you." I took the sword, feeling a resonance as if it was greeting me. "A complete adamantine weapon is incredibly rare, so don''t lose it."


    I''d never seen Qana outside without Winter Chill at his side, so it felt a bit odd. But I wasn''t going to spend the remaining time commenting on the swordmaster''s appearance, so I decided to gratefully strap Gray Snow to my belt, feeling reassured by its weight--a gift of immeasurable value.


    "Thank you..." It took all my willpower to keep talking. "For everything... everything you''ve taught me. I treasure... all of it." I knew if I said another word, I''d start crying, and I didn''t want to make the swordmaster worry, so I bit my lip and forced a smile as a finish.


    "You too..." Qana said, returning my smile. "Everything you''ve taught me."


    "Take care, Master." I bowed to Qana, lowering my ears, trying to express all the emotions I didn''t know how to put into words.


    "Take care, Richter." He gently knocked on my head. "Now, go make some trouble!" Qana turned and slowly walked away from the training hall.


    Listening to the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty corridor, I took a deep breath, then resolutely stood up and headed outside.

 Chapter 8 - Council 8.8

    "Great, everyone''s here," Master Sunflare said cheerfully, turning around and gesturing at something.


    Master Takahashi stood silently beside him, arms crossed, gazing at the snow-covered valley. He seemed to have fully recovered, showing no signs of any abnormality. I wondered what the bighorn sheep was thinking--I wasn''t familiar with the field of vision that horizontal pupils provided. But even if he had some thoughts, he didn''t seem inclined to share them with us. So after struggling for a few seconds over whether I should apologize to him, I gave up and shifted my attention away.


    I can work on my social skills later--probably.


    "Hey," Piqsirpoq nudged my side gently with his elbow. "You okay?"


    "I''m fine," I said, wiping the wetness from my cheek, puzzled by why I could never seem to control my tears. "What about you? Are you nervous?"


    "A little," he admitted honestly. "But I think... I''m too excited to be nervous." He rubbed his hands together, his tail wagging slightly back and forth.


    "We''ll make them all eat shit, right?" I joked lightly, earning a toothy grin from him. "Oh, is that... your choice?" I asked, noticing the Karabela tied to his waist, feeling a bit of mixed emotions.


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    "Yeah, Qana let me choose." He placed his hand on the hilt. "I feel like we''ve been through a lot together," he said with a tone of satisfaction, clearly thinking I should appreciate his sense of humor.


    I scratched my ear and gave a goofy smile in response, deciding to ignore those mixed feelings for now.


    Suddenly, without any warning, a... rift appeared before us.


    What... is this?


    I found myself able to peer into the... other side of the rift--it resembled some kind of metallic wall...


    "Hurry up, exotic matter is quite precious," Master Sunflare said, pointing at the rift. "Get in."


    Exotic matter... a rift... I quickly pieced the information together and came to a conclusion--by Rationalism above, this is a wormhole!


    I had thought we''d be taking an airship, a high-speed capsule train, or even a starship, but a wormhole... this was on a whole other level of extravagance--literally!


    Piqsirpoq hadn''t fully grasped it yet, looking at the wormhole with utter confusion and uncertainty.


    Noticing that Master Sunflare was beginning to look impatient, I resolved to be the first to step in, not to waste any more time. After all, it was about time to plunge headfirst into the unknown once again--I believed this would become my new way of doing things.


    A place where no one knows me, where I can become anyone.


    Saying goodbye to my old identity, starting a new life.


    A brand-new beginning, a fresh opportunity.


    A chance to uncover the truth of how the world works.


    A chance to gain the power to protect everyone.


    "It''s a wormhole," I explained to Piqsirpoq. He tilted his head and folded one ear down, still not getting it. "Come on!" I laughed, deciding a demonstration would be more effective than words.


    So I turned and ran toward the wormhole, leaping into the opening without a moment''s hesitation, diving into endless possibilities, and into the future that awaited me.


    I was falling, yet soaring.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - Time crystal

    Time crystal: An eternal, unchanging spiral, dancing in the chaos of entropy''s retreat.


    "Consciousness Union, more bluntly put, is the ''power of belief,''" I said as I dismantled the scale model of the Empire''s Heart into its most basic components, including every drone, all the gas and liquid pipelines, various functional cabins, reactor modules, and engine units, before handing them to Luther.


    He took over, trying to reassemble the pieces. Throughout the process, he frequently scratched his ear in confusion and occasionally stole glances at me.


    Hmph, nice try. I''m not going easy on him this time.


    "At its core, what is a planet? Isn''t it just tectonic plates floating on molten magma, with a massive, high-density metal sphere at its center?" I summoned a model of Gaia from a nearby table, disassembling its layers as I explained.


    "Mm-hmm," Luther replied absentmindedly, clearly not paying attention.


    "And what about a starship capable of traveling between planets? Isn''t it just various metals, polymers, and different coatings?" I sighed inwardly as I watched Luther persistently try to fit two incompatible structures together.


    "Ah, I was thinking the same thing just now," Luther said in a serious tone after I demonstrated the correct assembly method, making me roll my eyes.


    "And life? What is life?" When Luther connected the condenser tube to the reactor''s liquid intake, I almost wanted to stop him. It was obvious he hadn''t prepared properly, but I was curious to see how long he could bluff before admitting defeat. "Growth, metabolism, reproduction, and response--possessing these four characteristics defines life." At least he didn''t misplace the bridge, the cafeteria, or the living quarters. It''s clear that hands-on experience makes a difference. Maybe I should have him rotate through the different departments? It might be a good idea since everyone learns differently. "Some factions believe evolution should be added to the definition. But everyone agrees that life is an emergent property."


    Luther adopted a different strategy, starting by reassembling billions of drones into the outer armor, constructing the exterior of the Empire''s Heart. But he mixed up the order of the ablative and reflective armor, which left me puzzled. Isn''t that an obvious mistake?


    "All the traits considered as life phenomena, if viewed at the microscopic level, are just particles interacting with each other. Free radical attacks, phosphate group transfers, ion flows, protein conformational changes..." I spoke while delving inward, feeling the intricate workings of every tiny reaction. From the waveforms, I concluded that I was still very weak but slowly recovering. "And from these reactions, a new phenomenon--life--emerges." I''ve always found this fascinating. I really hope that someday Luther will understand this incredibly mysterious microcosm or at least develop some interest in it.


    I checked Luther''s progress--he was one step away from getting the entire crew killed.


    "Life produces consciousness, and consciousness defines the self. This definition has immense power within the rules of psychic abilities." I reassembled the model of Gaia and set it back on the table, feeling my frustration with Luther''s carelessness growing. "The Existence circle is essentially immune to the interference of other psychics. I can exhaust all my willpower to make Arthur''s stomach cramp for a few seconds." I was a little curious to see what Luther could do, but it''s better not to encourage him. "And that same power is enough to trigger nuclear fusion. This shows just how unshakeable the Existence circle is."


    "Why did you want to make the captain''s stomach cramp?" Luther asked while continuing to assemble the remaining components with a trial-and-error approach.


    "In simple terms," I said, tilting my head as I recalled the scene, "he confiscated Gray Snow, and I wanted it back." Luther gave me a puzzled look. "Our first meeting didn''t go as I had expected." It involved a bar brawl with too many participants, a few broken ribs, and some bruises.


    I pointed at the model of the Empire''s Heart, signaling Luther to focus on the more important matters.


    "Similarly, I could sink a starship in space with any sufficiently hard object, but I can''t directly dismantle the starship. I could hurl a small asteroid, large enough to cause an extinction-level event at Gaia, but I can''t crush the planet directly." Luther was almost "finished" now, trying to force a structure that didn''t belong into the remaining space. "Because the Consciousness Union would resist me. The more people, the stronger their belief in being part of a whole, and the more they wish to maintain the current state, the stronger and more unshakeable the Consciousness Union becomes, making it nearly impossible for a psychic to affect. And if even the weakest Epsilon-class psychic is involved in reinforcing the Union, it becomes infinitely more resilient."


    I scrutinized Luther''s work, and the mutt immediately looked away, avoiding my gaze.


    I snapped my fingers, and the model of the Empire''s Heart disintegrated, with all its components scattering randomly in every direction. The sight stung my nerves.


    "Do you know why this happened?" I straightened my tail and locked eyes with Luther as I asked.


    He flattened his ears against his head, shook his head, and tucked his tail. But this level of laziness isn''t something he can get away with just by acting cute.


    "Because of ''understanding''!" I couldn''t control the volume of my voice, causing the mutt to flinch. "If you don''t even know what the Empire''s Heart is supposed to look like, including all its structures and functions, you can''t protect the flagship with a Consciousness Union!" I took back control, rapidly reassembling the Empire''s Heart in my mind. "If that''s the case for the flagship, how much more so for the other ships in the fleet? The strength of a Consciousness Union diminishes with distance, but the level of understanding remains the primary variable." I shoved the assembled model into Luther''s arms, and he tucked his tail even tighter. "With your half-assed attitude, even a moderately skilled psychic could crush a starship with fewer crew members into pieces." I pointed out the window, shouting in frustration. "Do you want to see that? Do you want to know how many people your incompetence could kill?"


    Luther froze, remaining motionless, his head hanging in silence. It''s rare for this mutt not to retort, but I was too angry, so I flicked his ear hard. Luther let out a low whimper and curled up even more.


    But at that moment, I noticed something unusual.


    A diffraction of... consciousness waves. The amplitude was very small--if I weren''t familiar enough with Luther, I would have missed the change in consciousness density. There was something... barely perceptible there.


    I enhanced the perception abilities of my domain, analyzing the somewhat blurry area.


    Once I recognized the composition of that structure, I was stunned for a moment.


    It was two concentric of mirror circles in different directions, with the outermost layer covered by an inversion shield, and it also had a command permitting me to pass through. Such a delicate design... it wouldn''t hinder the transmission of waves, would make me unaware of the shield''s presence, and could still achieve the initial purpose of the inner mirror circles--to hide the feelings and emotions of the domain''s owner.


    I never imagined Luther could plan--let alone construct--such a complex domain. Clearly, I''m among those who underestimated him. But more importantly, why did he go to such great lengths to hide his feelings? Unless...


    "Luther." I stepped forward, taking the Empire''s Heart from his hand and, using Domination, placed the model back on the table. "Drop the barrier."


    Luther still wouldn''t meet my gaze, so I repeated my command. Only then did he comply.


    I felt the sharp, jagged waveform and the relatively muffled but still distinct, slow throb... had he been enduring this level of pain all along?


    "Luther, take off your shirt." I tried to hide the quiver in my voice, but it was clearly a failure. My ability to control emotional expression has always been abysmal, worsening with age.


    "This is an abuse of authority!" He turned to face me, protesting. "You can''t order me..."


    "Luther," I pleaded, changing my tone. "Please, take off your shirt."


    The stubborn mutt held out a bit longer, but finally, he relented, lowering his stance and pulling off his white shirt. He looked at me with a gaze full of grievance, ears drooping at either side of his head.


    "Turn around." I indicated with my eyes that I didn''t want to repeat myself, and he reluctantly turned his back to me.


    I gasped, my fur standing on end as I clenched my fists, the anger rising within me so intensely that it tinted my vision with red.


    Luther''s back still hadn''t fully grown back the short hair that had been shaved off, revealing pale pink skin underneath. But the most striking thing was the horrifying scars. Twisted and knotted, they tore across almost his entire back, from his neck to his waist, crisscrossing his upper body. In places where the skin had been completely ripped away, the wounds hadn''t even healed yet, oozing a pale yellow fluid. Worse still, I noticed these injuries were layered over deeper, already scarred skin.


    "You told me..." I tried to keep the growl out of my voice, but the furrow in my brow didn''t help. "...that Karl had handled everything."


    "I said, ''Karl handled everything he could''..." Luther murmured, looking down at the floor.


    "Why didn''t you tell me?" I lightly touched one of the scars that appeared to have scabbed over, making him flinch and hiss in pain. "I''m going to kill that golden retriever." I tried to assess the injuries, but the feedback waveforms were too ghastly to bear. "I''ll tear him apart molecule by molecule..." To hell with the Empire''s civil war and the Council''s rules--I was going to wipe that Rationalism damned breed off Gaia... no, off the entire sol.


    "Because I knew you''d react like this!" Luther pushed me away, complaining. "I didn''t want this to escalate into a war." He pulled his white undershirt back on, turning to face me. "And you''d definitely insist on linking with me, even though we both know you''re too weak for that right now!" Luther crossed his arms in front of his chest, adopting a defiant stance.


    That made me swallow back what I was about to say. I had to admit that I was indeed too weak right now, and even if we somehow managed to link, controlling his force--wild and violent as a black hole--would be impossible. I wasn''t confident that Luther could follow my instructions to the letter to heal himself.


    "It''s just a flesh wound," he reiterated. "We lower-class folks have been through worse."


    Luther''s angular face, trying to put on a tough front, was quite convincing. But I had carefully read his service record, so I knew this mutt was completely bluffing, quoting some storyline from who knows where.


    But I just sighed, reflecting on how I had been ready to ignite another massacre while Luther was trying to prevent a war. Perhaps it meant that his judgment in this matter was better than mine.


    "If you''re sure it''s fine, then let''s leave it at that." I spread my hands, conceding and respecting his decision. "But I won''t accept it without a medical officer''s approval."


    Luther nodded, agreeing to undergo further examination.


    After our shift ended, I probably should have apologized to him and discussed some other issues... but that could wait.


    "Let''s call it a day. You''re clearly in no condition to continue." I activated my terminal, contacting the various regional heads of the Empire''s Heart. "I''ll arrange for you to rotate through different workstations on the flagship, allowing you to experience different environments firsthand." I retracted the terminal back into my arm, pretending not to see Karl''s immediate reply with a clear objection. "That should be more helpful than reading flat data," probably, though I should have done this earlier--I wasn''t too sure. "You need to know everything about this fleet as well as you know yourself." My respect for Qana increased again--how had he put up with me back then?


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I walked over to the metal table by the observation window, poured myself a cup of coffee, and then returned to my desk, taking a sip of the dark liquid. But what I didn''t expect was that Luther sat down in the chair across from me.


    "The lesson''s over. I thought you''d..." I tilted my head, suddenly realizing I had no idea what Luther usually did when he wasn''t on assignment. "...find something to do?"


    "I''m particularly curious today." Luther put on a mock-serious expression, which made me involuntarily smile. "Besides, I''ve lost all my credit points to Abel."


    "Playing cards with a fox would likely end that way." I teased Luther after sitting down, and he awkwardly scratched his ears. This wasn''t a stereotype--I probably should have warned Luther earlier that the foxes are the custodians of all things mathematical.


    Leaning back in my chair, I glanced around the living quarters, finally letting my gaze settle on something suitable on the display shelf. Extending my consciousness, I pulled the transparent six-sided crystal over, placing it on the table between Luther and me.


    "Augira Crystal, a unique product of Ceres. I highly suspect this was made using Darkfang''s powers." During the last "Escort of the Merchant Ship" mission, we received a fist-sized piece from the dragons as a token of thanks. "This thing has some very interesting properties."


    I felt rather embarrassed, even with only Luther around. But I cleared my throat, trying to overcome the awkwardness, taking a deep breath.


    I tried to hum at the correct pitch, but I could tell from the waves in the consciousness domain that I was off-key, and the Augira Crystal naturally didn''t react.


    I had to clear my throat again to cover my embarrassment, continuing to try to hit the right note for the crystal. Still, it showed no reaction.


    "Uh..." Luther tilted his head. "Are you... singing?"


    "No." I think I answered too quickly again, the heat rushing to the tips of my ears. "I''m just trying to find the right pitch."


    "Oh." He laughed, showing his white canines, and his eyes squinted slightly in amusement. That made me even more embarrassed, my flattened ears nearly burning.


    Luther tilted his head slightly at my reaction, seemingly pondering something. Then, he placed both hands on the table, bringing his snout close to the crystal, his ears standing up in a look of concentration.


    Luther hummed something softly.


    The Augira Crystal began to flicker with red light.


    "Wow, that''s interesting," Luther said, continuing to hum in different pitches.


    I watched as the crystal''s light changed colors in sequence, synchronized with Luther''s hums--red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, and finally, white light.


    Some kind of... emotion welled up from within my chest.


    I had to admit there was certainly some jealousy, but I knew there was something else.


    "I think I get it now," Luther said with satisfaction. I responded by tilting my head, folding my right ear down.


    Raising his gaze, Luther glanced at me, then he began... to sing.


    "Twenty-three million, five hundred fifty-seven thousand, one hundred thirteen kilometers.


    This is the path I must walk until I see you again.


    There will always be those who mock me, wondering why I''m willing to sacrifice everything for a promise so distant, something I''ve never seen.


    I must tell them, it''s a vow ingrained in my very blood, a bond forged alongside it; a truth that is self-evident, a yearning that will never change.


    I know that only when we hold each other''s hand will I truly be alive, will I truly know how to breathe.


    The grass will be greener, the sky bluer. Not for any reason, but simply because it''s through your eyes that I can truly see the world.


    Chains and fences, walls or iron curtains, they may hinder my steps but can never stop my pursuit.


    Twenty-three million, five hundred fifty-seven thousand, one hundred thirteen kilometers.


    I will walk along the railway, until we meet again."


    When Luther sang the first line of the song, I lost all focus on the Augira Crystal''s changes. I couldn''t feel my own pulse; I could only let my breath rise and fall in time with the melody. Even the beating of my heart seemed to vanish, drowned out by the echo resonating from my chest.


    His voice... I don''t know how to describe it accurately, but it felt like walking barefoot on snow reflecting the bright moonlight in the deep winter after the blizzard has finally stopped.


    The light of the Augira Crystal dimmed as the song ended. I was still immersed in the resonance of the melody, the lingering tune in my ears left me unable to react in any other way, only able to stare straight into Luther''s brown eyes.


    I don''t know how much time passed before I finally blinked, confirming that I had broken free from the song''s influence--this mutt must have some siren blood in him.


    "Did Abel teach you this?" I guessed that Luther had perfectly interpreted the song.


    "Not exactly." Luther tilted his head, looking like he was trying to recall something. "I heard him sing it a few times when... everyone was a bit drunk."


    "And you just learned it like that? Clearly, you have a natural talent in this area," I remarked, also sinking into my own memories.


    "I tried to search for the full version of the song online, but there doesn''t seem to be any related information, so I could only imitate what I remembered," Luther said, leaning back in his chair.


    "You won''t find it," I said calmly, not intending to directly answer the questioning look from the mutt. "This is ''Railroad,'' a song about..." I paused to think about the most precise way to express it. "Freedom, and those who long for it."


    "Does this have anything to do with you and Abel mysteriously disappearing together on the first day of every landing ceremony holiday?" Luther asked. I tried to detect a hint of jealousy in his tone--there was none.


    "Don''t try to get anything out of me. If Abel wants to tell you, he will." I had a pretty good idea of how Luther lost all his pay. "Some things just take time."


    "I know, but it''s just..." Luther waved his hand in frustration, making a few meaningless gestures. "It feels like I''m not being trusted."


    "Hmm..." I placed the Augira crystal back on the display shelf, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. "Are you trying to ''hint'' at something?"


    "No." Luther crossed his arms defensively.


    I shrugged, indicating that I believed him.


    "You just mentioned ''making it with our abilities.'' What did you mean by that?" Luther asked.


    Today, his curiosity was really piqued.


    "Those of us at this level of ability can interact with matter on a very microscopic level." I summoned a ball of adamantine, breaking it down into fine sand to form a model representing a helium atom, all the way down to the fundamental particles. "This gives us the ability to create materials with unimaginable properties." I removed a few up quarks and added some neutrinos--I had no idea what I was doing. "Psychics who specialize in transmutation topology are already rare, and those with the power to actually manipulate it are even rarer, so most of the time, both sides are a null set." I could still occasionally remember the days when the Alchemists faction was hunting me down relentlessly.


    "You mean like... turning lead into gold?" I saw some thoughts in Luther''s bright eyes that clearly violated the rules.


    "Way cooler than that." I restored the adamantine to its spherical form and placed it back, summoning another black box from the display shelf. "Time crystals."


    Luther tilted his head, bringing his snout close to the box.


    "That''s a decoding component, a very precise instrument. Don''t break it--I don''t know how to fix it." I explained as I carefully slid out a cartridge from one of the recessed latches at the bottom of the box.


    The outer material of the rectangular structure was the same as the black box, encasing a transparent glass-like panel inside.


    "Is this the time crystal?" Luther squinted as if trying to see more clearly.


    "You won''t be able to see it that way." I slotted the cartridge back in. "The time crystal is coated on the surface--you can touch it with your consciousness." I tried to recall how to operate the decoder.


    If you carefully investigated, the ripples generated when Luther extended his consciousness could no longer be described as ripples--they were more like the powerful surges of a receding tide.


    "They''re just... spinning continuously," Luther said, tilting his head.


    "Exactly, that''s the point." I completed the final few steps and activated the decoder. "This is one of the solutions to the heat death of the universe--converting ''everything'' into data and storing it in time crystals so that it never disappears." Luther''s expression clearly showed that he didn''t understand what I was saying. "But that''s far beyond the scale we need to worry about. Practically speaking, some psychics like to use time crystals to store data because of the personalized encryption methods. By encoding the speed or angle of the crystal''s rotation, the stored information becomes nearly impossible to crack."


    The black box emitted a few flashes of light as it started up.


    "I--Richter von Deutschland--hereby declare the following..." I hurriedly turned off the decoder, completely forgetting that this cartridge contained that particular recording.


    "Why are you so nervous? It wouldn''t be something shady, would it?" Luther raised an eyebrow, glancing at the black box again.


    I could sense his eager curiosity, and I was sure that if I didn''t explain things to his satisfaction, I''d catch Luther one day rummaging through my precious collection.


    "It''s not." I rolled my eyes at him to make my position clear. "If the beneficiaries of a will know its contents in advance, the will becomes invalid."


    Luther stiffened, uncomfortably shifting in his seat, his eyes darting around as if he wanted to change the subject.


    "Creating time crystals isn''t difficult for psychics at our level. I can teach you." I found another black box, placed it on my desk, and pushed it toward Luther. "That way, you can record anything you want to leave behind--until the end of the universe--literally."


    Luther didn''t say anything or meet my gaze, but he silently took the black box, cradling it gently in both hands.


    "You..." He lowered his eyes, staring distantly at the black box, his fingers slowly caressing its surface. "You''ve already written your will?"


    "Most people in the fleet have, given that it''s still a high-risk job. There are too many dangers in space." I tilted my head, glancing at Luther. "And you haven''t forgotten who I am, have you?"


    "Isn''t there some sort of feudal law or something? Why would you need a will?" Luther asked, and I was a bit relieved he still remembered I was an Archduke.


    "I thought commoners liked to gossip about nobles." I said, taking the signet ring out of the storage compartment of my desk, feeling the weight of the platinum in my palm, then tossing it back into the hidden drawer. I had no idea what the purpose of this sequence of actions was, but I suddenly remembered that the Council thought reusing the coat of arms would cause too many problems, so the crest no longer had those ornate and intricate patterns.


    "Only about the Emperor--going further down, there are just too many." Luther said with a hint of bitterness. "Commoners have short attention spans."


    "Wolfgang has no right to inherit." I sighed, pulling the topic back. "At least under current imperial law."


    Luther tilted his head, folding down his right ear.


    "My ''son''," I said with a hint of annoyance, snorting.


    "I know." Luther emphasized, clearly not happy about being misunderstood. "What I don''t understand is why he has no right to inherit."


    "When each breed was officially recognized as a House, a genetic analysis was conducted, and genes with a high risk of causing severe defects were listed as disqualifying traits. Individuals with these traits would lose their right to inherit." I explained. "Most German Shepherds have accumulated too many of these high-risk genes, so inbreeding within the family is bound to eventually produce offspring without inheritance rights." In fact, many of the purebred canine families were facing this problem, and the limitations of gene-editing technology exacerbated the situation, but this was the lesser of two evils. "My genetic code is entirely original, so theoretically, my offspring shouldn''t have any disqualifying traits... But in Wolfgang''s case, during gamete fusion, genetic imprinting occurred, causing some of my genetic material to be erased, and the result is... well, this." I spread my hands.


    "So that''s what Abel meant..." Luther muttered.


    "So now, if I suddenly die, it would cause a lot of problems." I rested my chin on my right hand, poking at the electronic tabletop with my left. "Maya and Wolfgang would likely become targets for various assassins, and the ducal crown wouldn''t stay in the family for long. Almost all German Shepherds are facing the same predicament--none of the three major bloodlines are spared. Even the Belgian and Greenland branches can''t find uncontaminated individual, which shows how dire the situation is."


    I tapped my fingernail on the black box, recalling the details of my will and pondering how selfish I was to consider handling our predicament this way. I couldn''t even look Luther in the eye now, but I knew that sooner or later, I''d have to explain to him what arrangements I''d made to resolve these issues. If Luther heard it from someone else, he''d probably feel even worse.


    "Other ambitious House certainly won''t miss this opportunity, not to mention the Goldens who''ve been eyeing Greenland for a while. Even if Hunter wanted to, he couldn''t take on the entire Grand Duchy of Germany--some factions within the House wouldn''t tolerate such a thing. They''d rather see everyone destroyed than lose their ''pride''--or whatever they''d call it." I sighed, pushing the images of those old faces out of my mind. "Even if a miracle happened and the conservative factions relented, the Siberians would upset the balance of power in the Empire with two ducal crowns, and the others wouldn''t just sit by." Hunter probably wasn''t someone skilled in political machinations, and Piq... the Emperor would likely be more than happy to play the lyre and recite poetry as the flames of war raged. "So, yes, I need a will--a very detailed will." I forced myself to look into Luther''s brown eyes, hoping he would catch some of the unspoken hints I couldn''t bring myself to say.


    Whether he did or didn''t, Luther didn''t give me a clear response. We stared silently at each other for quite a while, until the simulated environment in the living room shifted to dusk.


    "Have you ever thought about..." Luther began, "what you''re going to do after all this is over?"


    "Are you talking about retirement?" I tilted my head, finding it hard to imagine myself sitting in a rocking chair watching the sunset--the final reckoning needs a... sacrificial offering. That might sound too dramatic, but it''s something like that. Room for interpretation is a complicated art. "I haven''t really thought about what I''ll do after retiring. Maybe I''ll consider it when things aren''t so chaotic?" I lied again. I really hate this about myself.


    "I think you could host a small theater or something like that, maybe even have your own channel on the internet." Luther tilted his head, tapping his chin lightly with his fingers.


    "What?" I''ve never really understood the latest trends, so I wasn''t quite sure what Luther was talking about.


    "I think the scenes you create..." He lifted his hand, summoning a few orbs of adamantine onto the desk, transforming them into fine sand. "They''re quite detailed."


    A few indistinct creatures rose from the sand, their movements stiff and awkward. The absurdity of the scene made me laugh out loud, causing Luther to grumble in discontent.


    "How are you doing that?" He tried to assist with commanding gestures, but it only made his control even more unstable. One of the figures crumbled apart.


    "Practice is the only path to perfection." For dramatic effect, I snapped my fingers, reorganizing the sand so that all the figures'' faces now bore Luther''s expression of frustration.


    "You''re so mean!" He released his focus and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, giving me a resentful glare.


    "Don''t be so sensitive." I teased him wickedly, manipulating the adamantine to create a new scene. "I''ve also thought of a post-retirement career for you."


    A square stage rose from the sand, with a mutt standing center stage, arms stretched wide as if determined to gather everything into its grasp. He raised his muzzle, eyes tightly shut, revealing all his fangs in an expression of pure concentration, shouting with such force that the entire universe would hear his call. The audience around him was ecstatic, completely entranced, swaying with the rhythm.


    When he expressed sorrow, the audience wept; when he sang of joy, they smiled brightly; when he spoke of hope, they raised their heads in anticipation. Finally, when he called for understanding, he opened himself up completely, embracing all differences. Like a bridge, he connected everyone''s hearts, creating a resonance strong enough to overturn the world.


    "I would never make such exaggerated expressions," Luther muttered in complaint.


    "A bit of theatrical flair makes it more fun," I responded, continuing to add detail to the mutt''s face, even rendering the texture of his fur.


    "So..." He tilted his head, closely examining the audience models I had created. "Is this a bar performance?"


    "What? You underestimate yourself!" I couldn''t help but laugh. "Think bigger." I hooked my finger, making the stage rise further, multiplying the number of spectators until they flooded towards the center. "A universal superstar."


    "Ha," Luther tilted his head, scratching his ear, and I noticed a slight blush coloring the tips. "I might actually like that title." He gestured a complex series of commands, making a row of seats appear at the front of the stage.


    "What''s this?" I asked curiously, glancing at Luther, who was now so focused that he was beginning to sweat.


    "VIP seats," he replied with a mischievous smile. "Reserved for nobles who can afford to pay a hundred times the ticket price."


    "Oh." I responded nonchalantly, watching as Luther repeatedly failed in trying to shape a particular figure--though the outline of a wolf was becoming evident, he had managed to capture the curve of the tail. "I''ll just watch the broadcast," I joked to hide the sudden sting of emotion that welled up in my chest as I lightly placed a hand on his, stopping him from continuing. "I''ve never been comfortable in loud, crowded places."


    Luther shrugged, seemingly accepting my words, and set the unfinished wolf-like figure aside. He then began adding all sorts of details, including numerous gaudy, nonsensical decorations around the stage, bizarre and unnecessary laser, fire and dry ice effects, and even an audience member clutching their chest, fainting dramatically to the floor.


    I truly couldn''t compliment his taste.


    We spent the rest of the time arguing over the costume details for the universal superstar. Eventually, we agreed that while lace cuffs might be outdated, one day, the boldest and most visionary trendsetters would undoubtedly bring this style back into the spotlight.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.1

    Academy: Knowledge is Power.


    "...Well, that''s not something you see every day." A deep, resonant voice stirred me awake. I opened my eyes and found myself lying face down on some kind of white flooring.


    My mind quickly pieced together what had happened, but I forced myself to rise calmly, as if I''d meant to land face-first all along--perhaps I''d been a bit too optimistic about this "new beginning."


    While straightening my clothes, I swiftly surveyed the small room. We were standing on a central, white, circular platform, the only part connected to the surrounding structure being a narrow walkway leading to what appeared to be the exit. I strongly suspected that the silver-gray metal forming the walls around us was adamantine, shaping the room into what looked like the inside of a sphere.


    Piqsirpoq stood nearby, arms crossed and ears perked up in a vigilant stance. His tail''s anxious flicking betrayed a hint of unease. Following his gaze, I saw the owner of that deep voice.


    In my mind, herbivores should be somewhat slender and lean, but the one standing before me made it clear just how ignorant I was about this world.


    Unlike Piqsirpoq''s tense posture, his stance was entirely casual. He wore gray trousers and a white T-shirt made of some flexible fabric that hung loosely on his frame. Yet, aside from the outline of a circular pendant on his chest, I could easily imagine the thick muscles beneath from the faint outlines of his chest and the bare arms.


    I shook my head vigorously, dispelling the image.


    He was a bit smaller than Qana, but still taller than most gray wolves, standing at least 180 centimeters. His massive, multi-pronged antlers crowned his head like a regal diadem, adding another twenty centimeters to his height and making an imposing statement about his status and power.


    His eyes were of a style I was familiar with; after seeing dragons and bighorn sheep, they seemed almost ordinary. The color of his irises matched his short, dark brown fur. Those deep eyes patiently bore my unabashedly curious stare, accompanied by a friendly smile.


    Realizing how rude I was being, I quickly lowered my gaze, no longer staring directly at this deer of unknown species. This earned a chuckle from him as he shifted his weight to the other leg. It was then that I noticed the relatively thick mane around his neck and the lighter-colored fur above his collar--who knows how far down it extended...


    I really needed to stop imagining what he looked like without clothes.


    "Ah, Leafshade, welcome to the team!" the deer turned and greeted a gray wolf walking over from the narrow platform with evident cheer.


    "I''ve told you before, don''t call me that when there''s a Senate wolf around! If your grass-eating tongue can''t pronounce my name, that''s your problem!" The wolf, a Mottle, looked as disheveled as one might expect from his faction, his messy fur clearly untouched by a comb for at least a decade, and his sleepy expression made it seem like he wasn''t paying attention to anything happening around him.


    "Which one do you want?" the deer ignored Mottle''s grumpy tone entirely and asked, glancing at us.


    "I''ve said before, if it''s Snow here, there''s only one possibility, and I don''t want--" Mottle''s gaze shifted to us, and he froze mid-sentence. I''m not exaggerating--he stopped entirely, like a video paused at a single frame. I guess he''d just noticed us--or more precisely, just noticed me.


    Well, goodbye, "new beginning."


    "Piqsirpoq," Mottle said, his tone flat and emotionless. A memory flashed in my mind--rumors about the taboos and limits of different faction. One of them said that when a Mottle stopped their usual dramatic antics, things were very serious.


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    "Arrogant, loudmouthed, simple-minded nuisance?" the deer raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said--"


    "Shut up." Mottle''s tone didn''t change as he used wolf body language to signal Piqsirpoq to follow him before turning to head toward the exit.


    The tall deer signaled with his eyes for Piqsirpoq to go after Mottle.


    Before heading off, Piqsirpoq gave me a supportive glance, offering a signal of encouragement and reassurance, then patted my arm before jogging after Mottle.


    "Well, looks like it''s just the two of us now." The deer waved me over. "I can tell you have a lot of questions, but we don''t have much time."


    We walked side by side out of the room, entering a curved hallway that stretched endlessly in both directions. Just great, more vast, indistinguishable architecture.


    "Since everyone else arrived last night, I''ll just give you a brief overview of the important stuff, and we''ll go over the rest later." His long strides exuded a steady confidence. Maybe it had to do with his physique, or perhaps it was because of those magnificent antlers?


    As we passed various intersections, I tried to find any clear markers to help navigate, but quickly gave up. Hoping that things would magically change overnight was just wishful thinking. At least I should be free to use my psychic abilities now, right? I knew that in the days ahead, detecting waves would become a constant practice.


    "Just to confirm, that''s an adamantine weapon, right?" the tall deer asked, glancing at the sword on my belt.


    I nodded, instinctively gripping the hilt--wondering what Qana was up to now.


    "I''m really envious. Leafshade also has an adamantine weapon from the Senate." He muttered wistfully, his gaze unfocused. "Herbivores have much weaker Domination; not many have the ability to forge an adamantine weapon..."


    I''d never considered that belonging to a group that despised me could still give me an advantage others could never reach. Perhaps some things weren''t as straightforward as I thought.


    But before I could ask more about herbivores and psychic abilities, the deer suddenly snapped out of his melancholy.


    "I should remind you, for the psychic assessment later, I''d recommend not bringing the adamantine weapon. It might skew the results." He pointed to my sword and gestured vaguely in the air. "The assessment is definitely a chance to showcase your power, make statements, or attract allies. But knowing your true capabilities is crucial when choosing which subjects to focus on, especially since this is your first assessment." He shot me a quick glance. "Besides, the Senate wolves are a dominant group in the academy. Getting involved in faction politics can wait until after you''ve chosen a mentor."


    He clearly hadn''t grasped the meaning behind Mottle''s attitude earlier. I could only respond gratefully, hoping that the "dominant group" wasn''t as dominant as he suggested.


    "Where were we? Oh, right, the brief overview." The deer clasped his fist in his palm, answering his own question. "You can think of me as your guide," he said, chuckling as if at some private joke. "Students usually refer to this as..." He tilted his head, looking at me. "...''Senior Mentor,'' I guess. I''m supposed to help you get to know the academy, offer some guidance, and take responsibility for your actions." He shrugged and pursed his lips. I wasn''t entirely sure if that had some other meaning among herbivores.


    An antelope came around the corner, stopped when they saw us, and let us pass. My "Senior Mentor" casually waved back, showing no intention of slowing down or engaging in conversation.


    "Most Federation citizens are very mindful of seniority. If you want to get along with them, you''ll need to pay attention to etiquette and formalities." The deer explained Federation social customs briefly, including when to use titles and how to address others.


    "Yes, Senior Mentor." I lowered my ears and bowed my head. I wondered if some gray wolves might find it awkward to lower themselves to another species--especially to a herbivore. But perhaps because I''d never felt a sense of belonging among the wolves, showing deference to someone didn''t really depend on their species.


    What I didn''t expect was for the tall deer to shiver and then burst out laughing, giving me a hearty slap on the back that nearly made me jump.


    "Please don''t do that again! You''re giving me goosebumps." His booming laughter echoed down the empty hallway. "Bowing to a large deer species is a challenge."


    "Sorry." I scratched my slightly warm ears, noting the information. "I''ll keep that in mind."


    He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at my apology. His overly eager scrutiny made me uncomfortable, and I averted my gaze.


    Without warning, the Senior Mentor suddenly stopped, and I had to halt abruptly as well. The sharp screech of metal scraping under my snow boots reminded me that maybe I should''ve worn a different pair. Whatever, I had the blueprint stored in my terminal; I could deal with it later.


    "I just realized I forgot to ask your name. How terribly rude of me." He stood firm, turning to face me. "What''s the Empire''s custom for introducing oneself...?" He tilted his head as if talking to himself rather than asking me.


    This deer''s behavior so far gave me the impression that he thought aloud and acted on whatever came to mind. Although he sometimes seemed to overlook details or miss the bigger picture, he also had deep insights overall. Maybe that''s what they mean by "rough yet delicate"? I had a feeling we might get along well.


    "Richter." I said, extending my right hand to him.


    "Oh, fantastic! Simple, easy to remember, and rolls right off the tongue. You might be the first Senate wolf whose name I can actually pronounce," the senior said with a smile as he shook my hand. "Just don''t let Leafshade find out."


    I responded with a sheepish grin, considering that someday I might explain to him that a Mottle''s name is typically a verse of poetry, unlike the less complex names of other factions.


    The warmth from his firm handshake spread through me, and I met his brown eyes again. His smile, revealing a mouthful of flat molars, didn''t evoke any discomfort--instead, it seemed to tell me that there were still so many unknown things in the world, waiting for me to discover.


    "Yoshihara Kotetsu," the senior said, as if suddenly remembering what he had intended to do before releasing my hand. "But you can just call me Kotetsu."

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.2

    Under detailed instructions, I arrived at the dormitory area and successfully located the room assigned to me. The sensor on the sliding door scanned my biometrics and, upon confirming my identity, parted to either side--I was fairly certain I didn''t want to know why my biometrics were in the database.


    I''d been told that normally, the dorms were shared by two, so I''d probably have a roommate from the same grade. Suppressing all curiosity, I resisted the urge to speculate about what my roommate might be like, trying to keep an open mind as I embarked on this new chapter.


    Upon entering the room, I was greeted by the sight of a shirtless deer, using a towel draped over his antlers to wipe his face. He had probably just finished showering, I thought, glancing at the sliding door that presumably led to the bathroom, though I saw nothing that could confirm my assumption. Noticing my arrival, the deer paused, slowly looked me up and down, and then furrowed his brow as if uncertain whether he was seeing things correctly.


    I pushed aside any feelings of hesitation or offense, convincing myself that the body language of herbivores must convey entirely different meanings.


    "I''m Richter. Nice to meet you!" I said, wagging my tail slightly as I extended my right hand toward the deer.


    "The gray wolf... right?" But he merely stared at my hand without moving. "You can take the other side of the room; I''ve already set my stuff up." He hung the towel back up and pulled out a white T-shirt that looked similar to the one Koutetsu wore.


    Alright, I guess not every deer is going to be warm and welcoming.


    I glanced over at the "other side" of the room while mentally compiling a list of things I''d need to print out.


    Taking up most of the space was a desk terminal with numerous drawers, topped by a large, very comfortable-looking bed. At the foot of the bed, next to a set of stairs, was a full wall of cabinets, filled with even more drawers. I recognized the unique tracks between the drawers as part of a seven-piece modular storage unit, a fun piece of furniture that could be rearranged to create different storage configurations. I''d only ever seen them in certain lecture halls before, and I''d always wanted to play around with one.


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    I heard the deer moving behind me, and my curiosity got the better of me. I turned to look at my roommate.


    "Do you have a problem?" he asked coldly, glancing at me as he closed the cabinet.


    "I...," I started, trying to curb the bizarrely intense curiosity that had taken hold of me. "I was wondering how you... put on clothes." I pointed to the space above my own head, hoping he''d understand what I meant.


    The deer didn''t say anything; he simply pulled the collar of the T-shirt wide, lifted one leg and slipped it through, then the other. He then tugged the shirt up to his torso and pushed his arms through the sleeves.


    "Does that answer your question?" If he were a wolf, I''d be sure he was mocking me.


    "Oh, the shirt''s a lot stretchier than I thought!" I replied in the most upbeat tone I could muster. The deer didn''t react, simply tidying up a few items before sitting down at the desk.


    I turned back to the other side of the room, trying to find a good spot to place Gray Snow. The cabinets didn''t seem wide enough, and I didn''t have time to figure out how to rearrange the modular storage unit, so I decided to hang it up for now.


    "Is that a sword?" The deer''s voice came from behind me.


    I hadn''t expected him to take an interest in my sword, but from the tone of his voice, it didn''t sound like the admiration Koutetsu senpai* had shown. After securing Gray Snow, I turned around to see the deer still in the same position, sliding something across the desk without even glancing in my direction.


    "Yes, it''s a hand-and-a-half sword." I scratched my ear, beginning to wonder if my social skills needed a complete overhaul. I should probably ask Koutetsu senpai later; herbivores must have their own way of communicating--probably?


    "Is it a status symbol or something? I thought it was an Imperial custom," he said, his tone turning somewhat... unfriendly when he mentioned the Empire. "But my Senior Mentor is a dog, and he doesn''t carry a sword, though some dragons do." He continued fiddling with the terminal, speaking in an offhand manner.


    "Oh, it''s not entirely unrelated to status." I suddenly realized that even here, most of the people in my grade probably knew nothing about psychic. Someone like me, who had received training, was definitely in the minority. "But I might be running out of time. We can talk more later!"


    "You''re going for your assessment?" he asked blandly, resting his chin on his right hand. "Good luck."


    "Thanks!" I replied. The deer''s ear twitched slightly, and he slowly turned his head, fixing one brown eye on me, as if contemplating something.


    Was this a cultural difference?


    But I really had taken too much time, so I quickly apologized and left the room.


    Aside from a bit of awkwardness, this went much more smoothly than I had expected. There would be plenty of time later to get to know each other better. My roommate was a deer--I could never have imagined this a year ago.


    I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, and even my steps grew lighter. So many unknown possibilities--what surprises would the future hold for me? With eager anticipation, I continued on to the next step.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.3

    "Just stay calm, most Cadets can''t even enter the room on their first assessment. But occasionally, stronger carnivores make it through, usually the dragons." Kotetsu senpai explained to me as we walked down yet another featureless corridor. "When I first took mine, my senpai mentor was waiting in the hallway, just to watch me fail." He shrugged, then waved his right hand in greeting to a beagle who was approaching us. "To show my faith in you, I''ll be waiting up in the stands. But if you find yourself lost, unsure of where you are, or can''t remember anything, just stand still. I''ll come and find you." Kotetsu senpai pressed something into my hand before walking off toward the beagle.


    I glanced down at what he''d given me. It was a card, with instructions that mainly told me to stay calm, avoid panicking, and wait in place.


    "...So this is the last one? I heard the masters say this was a ''surprise find.''" The beagle gave me a quick look before continuing the conversation with my senior.


    "Oh, really?" Kotetsu senpai tilted his head and tapped his chin a few times with his finger. "I haven''t heard anything about that."


    "Master Sunflare is still up in the stands, so there must be a reason." The beagle gestured toward the other end of the corridor with a few quick pushes of his right hand. "I suspect the avoidance circle was set up by him. Not a single freshman has passed this year, and even a few second-years got caught by it."


    Kotetsu senpai tilted his head the other way and glanced back at me.


    "Richter, how long did it take you to complete your assessment?" he asked curiously.


    "About... just under a minute?" I wasn''t entirely sure of the exact time, but that should be roughly accurate.


    "Faster than average, but not by much." He tapped his chin again, his gaze shifting as if deep in thought. "What kind of effect did you trigger?"


    "Uh... what do you mean?" I didn''t remember Qana ever explaining something like that, nor had it been mentioned that night.


    "Adamantine..." Kotetsu senpai gestured in the air. "You know, the silver metal orb. Did you make it float, change shape, change color, shatter, glow, heat up, or vibrate?"


    "Oh, my ''recruitment test'' wasn''t that." I suppressed the urge to scratch my ear.


    My response made them exchange glances, with Kotetsu senpai looking even more intrigued.


    "Then what was your recruitment test?" he asked, while the beagle beside him gave me a similarly curious look.


    "Master Takahashi said it was a strength test, where I had to hold out for a minute without being pushed out of the ring." My answer prompted another exchanged glance, and the beagle''s wide-open mouth showed his surprise.


    "Wait," Kotetsu senpai turned back to me, asking, "So why did you finish ''just under a minute''?"


    Before I could come up with an explanation that didn''t sound too strange, the beagle jumped up, tail fully erect.


    "Yes, Master!" I hadn''t realized droopy-eared dogs could raise their ears like that. "I''ll have them start immediately!"


    The beagle swiftly made a series of hand signals to Kotetsu senpai, who simply spread his hands and gestured for me to continue forward.


    "Stay calm, no pressure," he reminded me again before heading in another direction.


    The beagle urged me forward once more, pointing to a door at the end of the corridor.


    Following the latest directive, I walked over without hesitation. The door looked quite ordinary, with an old, weathered feel to it, and the dense, oxidized gray metal was evenly spread across the surface. After standing there for a moment, I realized it wasn''t an automatic sliding door. I chuckled, reached out, pushed it open, and stepped into the space beyond.


    I immediately recognized the black, solid material of the floor and walls. Even though I knew what it was made of, I still had no idea if it had an official name. As always, the light source was unclear, but it evenly illuminated every corner. However, the structure above my head was transparent, and I could see people sitting all around. I assumed the material had soundproofing properties, as I couldn''t hear anything. The stands rose in height the farther back they went, structured like a typical stage or theater.


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    The crowd was sparse, and I tried to spot Kotetsu senpai among them, but to no avail. However... Master Sunflare''s towering figure was unmistakable, standing out without any effort. He sat alone, maintaining a noticeable distance from those around him. Even though we were far apart, I could still see those golden-red eyes staring intently at me, filled with an anticipation for something interesting to happen. His reptilian, spindle-shaped pupils were... striking.


    There was nothing else in the room, so I walked to a small, square platform at the center, where twelve adamantine orbs were placed.


    No instructions.


    I glanced up at the people in the stands, but no one made a move or seemed like they intended to give me any hints.


    Alright, I guess solving this on my own is part of the assessment? Or maybe they want to see how I approach problems, to gauge what kind of person I am.


    I expanded my consciousness and sent out a probing pulse.


    As I analyzed the feedback, I noticed a stir in the stands--people were beginning to whisper to each other.


    After all, I had already used a shockwave on Master Takahashi. Pretending that Qana hadn''t trained me by now would be pointless.


    As expected, the room was fully shielded by adamantine. And beneath the square platform, there was some kind of mechanical design--probably a pressure-sensitive panel or something.


    I stepped onto it, and as my weight shifted the platform slightly downward, twelve cylindrical pillars rose from the ground, arranged in a circular pattern around me. Each pillar had a spherical indentation on its surface. No, upon closer inspection, some of them weren''t spherical but were square or kite-shaped.


    This probably wasn''t a very complex puzzle--just a test of control and sensory ability.


    I expanded my consciousness and took control of the twelve metal orbs, making them float. I then reshaped a few and carefully placed them into their corresponding indentations.


    The cylinders sank back into the ground in unison, and another square platform rose in front of me, with a transparent cube placed atop it. It seemed to be a precise one-meter cubed.


    I ignored the commotion in the stands and focused on the transparent cube--it was... interesting.


    Trusting my instincts, I gently placed my hand on the surface of the cube. It was insulated, with excellent light transmittance and very low surface friction. If not for the solid structure beneath my touch, I might''ve thought I was hallucinating and seeing something that didn''t exist.


    Neither the cube nor the room reacted to my touch, so I boldly enveloped the cube with my consciousness and sent out a probing wave.


    The cube''s intricate structure responded, resonating along the latticework and transmitting the most minute details.


    The cleverly arranged molecules allowed any impact to be dispersed throughout the entire cube, and the recoil force helped preserve the cube''s original shape, preventing excessive deformation. I probed deeper, beyond the physical layer of the space, reading the memories imprinted on the molecular level.


    Impact after impact. Analysis and recording, handled by transparent circuits at the center of the cube, visible only at specific wavelengths.


    I think I understand what this is.


    I looked up again and noticed that during the time I''d been analyzing the cube, the stands had filled with people--except for the empty circle around Master Sunflare.


    The red-brown scales on his body reflected light from some source, creating a vivid red metallic sheen, like plasma surging. His golden-red eyes were burning with interest, almost to the point of boiling over. With such a direct stare, it felt like his gaze would burn a hole right through me.


    Blocking out all the distracting noise, I lowered my head and refocused on the task at hand.


    The transparent cube was designed to withstand high-intensity impacts, analyze them, and record the data. So, it was likely a tool used to assess the strength of Cadets.


    But... what exactly is strength?


    From the memories of the cube, most of the time, it endured shockwaves. Occasionally, there were instances of students reinforcing their bodies or using adamantine weapons to strike the cube.


    Was strength just the ability to muster willpower?


    I shook my head, deciding to set aside my hesitation for now.


    What did Qana say--make sure everyone knows I''ll become the most powerful psychic in history, right?


    I suppose choosing how to display strength was also a declaration to everyone about what kind of person I was. Even though I didn''t want my first impression to be that of someone who relied on brute force, if I wanted a fresh start, then it would only be logical to adopt a completely new approach.


    I tentatively pulled one of the adamantine orbs back into my hand, confirming that the platform beneath the transparent cube wouldn''t retract because of it. Then, I gathered all the adamantine together, shaping it into a rough form of a sword.


    Since I created this tool using my own abilities, it shouldn''t lead to inaccurate assessments, right?


    I shot a quick glance at Master Sunflare and could tell he was smiling.


    Taking a deep breath, I retracted my domain and began channeling my will into the mass of adamantine shaped like a bastard sword.


    A sharp, shrill noise pierced the air, so harsh that I nearly lost my grip on the hilt as the vibrations threatened to disintegrate the adamantine itself. It was clear that this chunk of adamantine, which only had the appearance of a sword. The difference in the power it could contain compared to a genuine adamantine weapon was vast. But at the very least, my existence circle accepted it, successfully enveloping the bastard sword-shaped chunk of metal.


    I was pouring so much energy into keeping the adamantine from exploding that it almost surpassed the power I was trying to channel into it. Abandoning the idea of releasing a slash in the Snow stance, I raised the blade above my head, taking the stance of the Ice shove technique, the tip pointed skyward, and swung down with all my might at the transparent cube.


    By maintaining constant control over the domain layered around the surface of the adamantine, I slowed the speed of sound, and the air it sliced through wailed past my ears like an eerie, distorted cry.


    Is this some kind of Doppler effect?


    The next moment, the resistance from the sound barrier almost wrenched the weapon from my hands. I snapped out of my wandering thoughts and refocused. Clenching my teeth, I summoned even greater strength, forcing--no, commanding reality itself to bend to my will.


    As I continued to ramp up the output, the blade broke through something, and then, unstoppable, it crashed down onto the transparent cube.


    I heard no sound, but I saw the solid, clear structure collapse like gelatin under the force of my strike. The deformation exceeded the crystal''s limits, causing countless hairline cracks to spread, like electricity racing across a neural web. As the structure disintegrated, something about the cube''s properties changed. From the countless shattered fragments, I saw my reflection staring back at me--a white-furred, blue-eyed wolf.


    I wondered what the others might be seeing.


    And then the world exploded, utterly obliterated.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.4

    Shards of the transparent cube scattered in every direction. Many shattered further upon hitting my passive defensive circle, while others were intercepted with a sharp sound, indicating they had been blocked by some sort of barrier.


    Releasing my consciousness, along with the adamantine in my hand, I checked myself for injuries. Pressing my palm to ease the ache, I felt relieved that this reckless move hadn''t caused any serious consequences.


    A projection appeared before me, displaying what looked like a list. The list scrolled down quickly, stopping at the bottom, where my name appeared, followed by a number--zero.


    Wait, what does that mean?


    Scratching my ear, I tried not to let the curious stares around me overwhelm me with an embarrassing amount of awkwardness.


    I noticed Master Sunflare getting up, looking quite pleased. As he left, everyone automatically made way for the towering dragon.


    Among those avoiding him were other dragons as well, sparking my curiosity. But I decided to shelve that thought for later and refocused on the chaos before me.


    The room was littered with transparent shards, some embedded into the walls. While surveying the damage I''d caused, I noticed a door that hadn''t been there before. It was probably my way out.


    I certainly had the urge to disappear from everyone''s sight immediately, but there were still some things I needed to finish first.


    Scanning the room once more, I extended my domain and took control of the shards of the transparent cube, suspending them in mid-air. With my mind, I gently touched and enveloped each one.


    There was no way I could understand such intricate designs in such a short time, but if it was just a matter of putting the pieces back together, that was no problem. I inspected the edges of each shard, matching the ones that fit, and began reassembling the cube. Rotating the growing transparent structure in front of me, I wrote new commands to record the features of the shards, speeding up the process.


    Before long, the transparent cube was fully reformed. I placed it back on the platform where it belonged. Then, I tapped its surface, feeling the junctions where the shards met and reconnecting the crystal lattice, repairing its internal circuits.


    It wasn''t particularly difficult--just following the original pattern--but when I finished, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. As a final touch, I made a few gestures, dividing the adamantine back into twelve spherical segments and placing them on the central platform.


    The commotion in the stands made me feel like bowing for a grand finale, but the sight of numerous massive antlers reminded me of Kotetsu senpai ''s advice, so I held back. Apparently, I had a bit of a showman in me.


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    Shaking my head to dismiss the stray thoughts, I prepared to head for the exit.


    But at that moment, the same searing heat that nearly set me ablaze washed over me again. Instinctively, I turned to find Master Sunflare glaring at me with his fiery, golden-red eyes--he no longer smiling.


    "Impressive." Kotetsu senpai stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, looking over at me. "Who trained you?"


    "Uh... Qana." I scratched my ear, quickly glancing around the small room he had just stepped into. "Qana Snow." There was no point in hiding it any longer, so I figured it was better to be upfront.


    "Winter of Europa?" He whistled, raising an eyebrow. "That''s quite the legend. Some of the records he set still haven''t been broken."


    "Oh," I nodded, thinking it made sense. A swordmaster like Qana would definitely be the kind of figure to make waves. "Qana doesn''t really talk about that stuff much."


    "There have been cases before where psychics received training before being recruited by the Academy," Senpai straightened up and gestured for me to follow. "But none of them were at your level."


    "I had a good... teacher?" I tilted my head, wondering how accurate that statement was.


    "No, it''s more than just that." He made a vague motion in the air, seeming slightly excited. "Do you know how many people still alive have successfully broken a ''Touchstone''? Just nine. They''re all Alpha-level psychics." He pointed at me. "You''re the tenth."


    "Qana more or less told me..." I muttered, not wanting to come off too... arrogant? "He was pretty sure I''m Alpha- level."


    "I imagine everyone here today knows that now too. But they probably didn''t notice the real highlight." Senpai''s voice turned distant, a little detached. "You repaired the Touchstone. Until now, everyone believed only Darkfang, its creator, had the ability to do that."


    This was the second time I''d heard that name. I should probably look into this person at some point.


    "How did you do it?" Senpai turned to look at me, his expression... complicated. "It almost looked like entropy reversal..."


    "Isn''t that supposed to be impossible?" I raised an eyebrow at his comment. "I just mimicked the structure of the original crystal, reconnected the lattice." I hurriedly added an explanation, not wanting to cause any misunderstandings. "It was just copying an existing template--nothing too difficult."


    "Nothing too difficult..." Senpai repeated quietly, and I could feel the tips of my ears growing hot. "As if you''re saying reaching out and plucking a star is as simple as stretching your arm far enough."


    "Sorry... I didn''t mean to sound like a jerk..." But no matter how I phrased it, I really did sound like one. "I just... wanted to explain." I noticed that deer ears droop down in situations like this, and it made me feel even guiltier.


    "No, I''m not blaming you. Talent is just that way sometimes." Senpai offered a faint smile, his tone soothing. "It looks like we''ll be seeing each other in class."


    "Oh, well..." I scratched the back of my head, noticing the hair around there seemed to be thinning alarmingly fast during this whole conversation. "Please... I''m looking forward to it?"*


    Senpai''s response was a hearty laugh, followed by a sudden slap on my back. This time, I was prepared and didn''t jump.


    "I''m certain you''re going to become the target of every faction''s recruitment efforts--one way or another." Absentmindedly, he fingered a pendant around his neck through his clothes. "In that regard, I''m afraid I can''t give you any advice. There are... conflicts of interest." He shot me a sidelong glance.


    The dangers that come with power, huh... I thought, realizing that diving headfirst into the unknown often meant crashing into things you''d never dreamed of encountering. In this case, faction politics were about to hit me like a freight train. I might need some time to adjust from being unwanted to becoming a hot commodity.


    "But if a Master takes the initiative to approach you before a mentor is chosen, I can at least share with you some... inside information that''s already public knowledge." He gave me a sly smile, winking. "Including all the juicy, scandalous gossip."


    "Uh..." I searched my mind for a polite way to make it clear I had no interest in gossip. "Sounds... interesting." Wait, that doesn''t seem right.


    "For instance, want to know why Master Minsan only mentors female students?" Senpai''s excitement clearly wasn''t going to be quelled. "At first, no one noticed, and even when they did, they didn''t believe it..."


    For the rest of our conversation, I practiced my social skills, trying to master the art of politely but successfully declining offers without offending anyone.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.5

    Before the dormitory''s sliding door opened, I already sensed something off. The air was buzzing, like it was scratching against my eardrums.


    But I hadn''t expected at all to see my roommate floating mid-air, his short hair standing on end, eyes and mouth wide open in terror, frozen like an insect trapped in amber, completely motionless.


    The next thing I noticed was Gray Snow, hovering in front of him. His fingertips touched the sword''s scabbard, both of them suspended in weightlessness, creating a... rather symbolic scene.


    I shook my head hard, brushing off what I suspected were Gray''s thoughts creeping in. I stepped forward, trying to figure out how to handle this.


    Qana had said that adamantine absorbs the energy waves of psychics, which triggers all sorts of effects, so the solution should be simple: break their connection.


    I expanded my consciousness, pulling Gray Snow into it, and summoned my hand-and-a-half sword into my grip.


    The moment the blade appeared, the connection broke without resistance, and the buzzing in the air stopped.


    As I held the scabbard, I gently supported the terrified deer, carefully lowering him to the ground.


    While hanging Gray Snow back on the hook that extended from the side of the bed, I silently thanked my luck that nothing catastrophic had happened. I should have noticed his overly curious behavior, but I never thought this deer would touch my things directly.


    "You alright?" I crouched beside my roommate, who still looked like he was in shock.


    "You told me that was a sword." His gaze was unfocused as he spoke slowly.


    "Oh, right, yeah, it''s a hand-and-a-half sword," I said, not trying to hide anything. "But Gray Snow''s made of adamantine, so it''s a bit different from an ordinary sword."


    "Adamantine?" The deer turned his head, locking eyes with me. "Does it have anything to do with that sphere from the recruitment test? And why does it have such a fantastical name?"


    "Yeah, it''s the same material." From what I saw during the exam and what the seniors told me, I could guess how the recruitment test was carried out. "I just know adamantine interacts with psychic abilities and creates all sorts of special effects. No idea why it''s called that, though." I realized I''d never really questioned it. "Maybe because it''s supposed to be like an indestructible, diamond-hard substance?" Honestly, what even is adamantine? It looks like metal, feels like metal, but it''s a world apart from actual metal.


    "I''ve been able to... see things, ever since I was a kid," the deer hesitated, perhaps wondering if I''d react with shock. He glanced at Gray Snow again and continued. "When I touch something, sometimes with effort, I can see its... memories. The same goes for people... occasionally."


    "Oh, you can sense ripples in the time dimension!" I said in an enthusiastic tone, unable to hide my excitement as the tip of my tail swished against the floor. "Qana mentioned that herbivores attuned to mental waves are more sensitive to this kind of thing!"


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    "Uh... I suppose so." He seemed unsure how to respond to my excitement. "Anyway, I was still upset about not performing well in the graduation exams when, one night, out of nowhere, this group of people just showed up, along with Mr. Fujiki."


    That must be how the council operates. Acting like they own the entire universe, showing up wherever they want, whenever they want.


    "My homeroom teacher," the deer clarified, as if that would help me understand who he was talking about. "They suddenly dumped all this stuff on me about the truth of the world and my potential or whatever. But I can barely remember what he said because, with him, there was also a... hyena, and that made it really hard to focus."


    The deer''s voice sounded uncomfortable, and I could only imagine how overwhelming it must have been for him at the time. To be honest, trying to imagine life in different factions was already tough enough, let alone across different planets and political systems. If Master Takahashi suddenly appeared in front of me, spouting surreal nonsense, how would I react? Actually, I might be able to empathize with this deer''s experience after all.


    "That''s not important. What matters is that silver-white metal sphere they gave me," the deer shook his head vigorously, pulling himself back to the present. "They said it was adamantine and that it was my recruitment test. After I took the sphere, I saw all sorts of incomprehensible images--mostly of some creature with lots of bright red eyes... monsters." He glanced at Gray Snow again. "But nothing compared to what I just saw now."


    The tremor in his voice made it hard to tell what emotion he was trying to convey. I followed his gaze, curious about what memories the hand-and-a-half sword might hold, considering it had just been forged. Would it reveal how Qana managed to create a complete adamantine weapon?


    "What did you see?" I asked, my curiosity piqued at the possibility that he might have glimpsed the secret to crafting such a weapon.


    "You''d think I''m crazy." His brown eyes focused on me, but quickly darted away.


    "Try me." I smiled. "I''ve been able to control the water in my fur for as long as I can remember." The deer gave me a puzzled look. "It makes drying off really efficient!"


    He stared at me for a while, probably trying to figure out if I was joking or not.


    "A monster," he finally said, keeping it short. "An unspeakable... monster."


    From the way he avoided my gaze, I could tell he wasn''t being entirely truthful. I''d seen that same expression too many times on wolves who recognized who I was--a clear desire to change the subject.


    But I didn''t press him. I trusted that he had a good reason for not wanting to share his real thoughts.


    "Well... alright then." I stood up, extending my right hand to him. "Sorry for the trouble."


    The deer gave me a somewhat confused look, staring at my hand without moving.


    I had no idea what to do, so I just kept my hand out, waiting for a response.


    Why wasn''t he reacting?


    Was it some sort of cultural thing with Federation members, where they care a lot about seniority? But according to Kotetsu senpai, we were equals, right? Or maybe it''s because I''m younger, so I shouldn''t be the one initiating, and it''s a face-saving issue? But there''s no way he could tell I''m only sixteen just by looking, right? I''m not particularly short, either--pretty average, I''d say. Could it be a political thing? Like, in a democracy like the Federation, they value personal freedom more, and me offering my hand was somehow invading his personal space? But all I wanted to do was offer a friendly handshake! Or maybe it''s because I''m an imperial lackey and he doesn''t even want to touch me? And the fact that I''m a grey wolf, part of the royal family... the root of all evil, unforgivable! But do others really understand what being a gray wolf even means? Or could it be because I''m a carnivore and didn''t follow some strict protocol for interacting with herbivores? But Kotetsu senpai didn''t seem to have any such issue. He interacted with the beagle without any awkwardness! Then again, the senior did mention time was limited, so maybe this just isn''t important, or maybe he didn''t expect me to have a deer as a roommate? Speaking of which, if herbivores and carnivores interacting is this awkward, why would they put us in the same dorm in the first place? Could this be some kind of administrative oversight, or maybe my name was added at the last minute? Or perhaps it''s something much simpler--this deer just finds me weird and doesn''t want anything to do with me.


    I had no idea.


    At least, thankfully, time didn''t seem to be dragging on endlessly.


    The deer finally reached out his right hand, grasping mine as I helped him up.


    I silently breathed a huge sigh of relief, though I tried not to show any signs that might betray my thoughts. Except, perhaps, for my tail, which couldn''t help but start wagging.


    "Have you had lunch yet?" I asked, taking advantage of the moment as he adjusted his clothes. I was sure Kotetsu senpai wouldn''t mind if I brought someone along. "Want to join me? My senior invited me to the lobby in the residential area. We have about ten minutes." I checked the time on my terminal.


    I got another of those raised-eyebrow looks, his large brown eyes scrutinizing me as if a thousand thoughts were flashing through his mind.


    "Sure," he finally shrugged, making up his mind.


    As we walked side by side toward the lobby, a strange feeling stirred in me, and my tail wagged even faster.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.6

    I waved to Kotetsu senpai, and he responded with the same gesture to welcome us. I noticed a border collie standing beside him, its black fur concentrated around the eyes and ears, forming a white streak down the middle of its forehead.


    "Hamp England," he introduced himself first, pressing his palm to his chest in the manner of nobility but without lowering his head. "Just call me Hamp."


    "Richter," I responded in the same manner, lowering my ears and gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a slight twitch of his ears, but the border collie showed no further reaction.


    When I resumed my usual posture, I found my roommate looking at me with a rather curious expression.


    "Is something the matter?" Hamp senpai also noticed and tilted his head in inquiry.


    "No..." My roommate glanced between me and Hamp senpai. "I just thought... it would be the other way around." He gestured back and forth between us with his finger.


    In response to my roommate''s comment, the border collie tilted his head the other way, raising an eyebrow. Before I could say anything, Kotetsu senpai cleared his throat and spoke up first.


    "The Empire''s hierarchy doesn''t work that way, and besides, those things don''t matter at the Academy." Kotetsu senpai waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Besides, I believe Richter is simply trying to act ''proper.''" He emphasized the word. "And I''m Kotetsu--oh, and yes, I''m an Altai wapiti."


    I noticed my roommate stiffen awkwardly, clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable.


    "Richter, aren''t you going to introduce your..." Kotetsu senpai glanced at me before shifting his gaze back to the deer beside me.


    "My roommate!" I answered happily, my tail flicking back and forth. But then I realized something--he hadn''t told me his name or anything like that. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I tilted my head and scratched my ear awkwardly.


    "Oh, I see." Kotetsu senpai said dryly, still looking at my roommate. "Aren''t you going to enlighten us?" He lowered his head slightly as he spoke.


    Ah, now I understood why, for large cervids, this might be seen as a challenge. With the sharp tips of those antlers pointed at you, it felt like they could skewer you full of holes at any moment if they wanted to.


    "Haruta Tadao." My roommate straightened up immediately, speaking in a slightly tense tone. I wasn''t sure if I imagined it, but I thought I saw the short fur on his neck stand on end. "Nice to meet you."


    "Isn''t that much better?" Kotetsu senpai smiled and returned to his upright stance. "Shall we go?"


    As we walked toward the dining hall, I mostly focused on the people passing by. After all, there was no way I could recognize these featureless corridors--seriously, why were they designed this way?


    Some kind of polished light brown stone with patterns made up almost the entire structure of the Academy. Light sources were spaced evenly at the top, ensuring that everything was well-lit. Based on the density of the automatic sliding doors, I could roughly gauge the size of the lecture halls--huge.


    Every now and then, someone would stop and let us pass. Most of the time, it was herbivores, though there were also some carnivores. Kotetsu senpai would casually wave in response, showing no particular reaction. I glanced at the Altai wapiti, who was quietly conversing with Hamp senpai, not paying much attention to our surroundings.


    So, was he some kind of famous, charismatic leader, like Piqsirpoq? Upon closer inspection, I noticed that most of the Cadet greeting Kotetsu senpai were wearing some kind of pendant, similar in size and shape. Was it a faction symbol?


    Speaking of factions, there were indeed quite a few gray wolves around, though to my relief, they made up only about twenty percent. No one seemed particularly interested in me. If anything, there were more large cervids with enormous antlers walking around. Was that because they were the dominant species of the Federation, or were they like the gray wolves, chosen for important roles due to a higher proportion of psychics?


    As I passed by a female wolf, I subconsciously glanced back at her, perking up one of my ears. I was immediately met with a less-than-friendly glare, so I quickly turned my head back.


    "Don''t be too embarrassed." Hamp senpai somehow noticed and laughed, casting a teasing glance my way. "All the new Senate male wolves are like that, young ones, you know." He winked at me, making the tips of my ears flush with heat. I wanted to retort but couldn''t find the words.


    At the very least, I was certain Hamp senpai understood the significance of having no faction name, though he likely didn''t know what had actually happened, let alone the reasons behind it. So, I''d just have to avoid the Senate''s wolves as much as possible. If even the pedigree dogs of the Nine Families acted like this, interacting with other canines probably wouldn''t be too difficult.


    "Leafshade still jumps and fluffs up his fur," Kotetsu senpai chuckled. "When he finally notices what''s happening around him, of course."


    The border collie and the Altai wapiti exchanged a knowing glance, sharing a joke that only they understood.


    However, not all the gazes directed our way were friendly. I was quite familiar with how to recognize hostile stares. Yet, Kotetsu senpai seemed unfazed, even greeting some of those people as we passed.


    It seemed like understanding the Academy''s political workings would take a lot of effort.


    I took a little more time before I realized that, at times, the gazes from all those different colored and styled eyes were filled with curiosity about me.


    Being the center of attention wasn''t entirely foreign to me. That uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness had troubled me no matter how much time passed. But this was the first time that the majority of the gazes were curious rather than critical--some even seemed admiring. It was something I wasn''t used to at all.


    "It seems our newly promoted Alpha-class wolf has become quite the celebrity," Kotetsu senpai said, glancing back at me.


    "Word has already spread," Hamp senpai chimed in, turning to look at me as well. "And you didn''t even go into red-eye mode, did you?" He shuddered before continuing. "Just the thought of it is terrifying."


    "He was personally trained by the Winter of Europa," Kotetsu senpai remarked, and I could hear Hamp senpai whistle in response.


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    "Why don''t we just go ahead and give this wolf a complete adamantine weapon?" The Border Collie muttered with a wry smile. "Good thing first-year Cadets can''t challenge the Tower."


    Kotetsu senpai laughed as well, but the laughter abruptly ceased, and his body stiffened slightly.


    "Richter..." He turned to look at me. "...Your sword isn''t a complete adamantine weapon, is it?"


    "That''s your private matter. You don''t have to tell us if you don''t want to," Hamp senpai quickly added, tilting his head and casting a brief glance at the Altai wapiti.


    "Oh, it is!" I figured dragging out an answer would only make things more awkward, so I responded with the most positive tone I could muster. "Gray Snow is a complete adamantine weapon. Qana forged it for me."


    Both seniors stopped in their tracks at the same time. Tadao couldn''t stop in time and bumped into Hamp senpai, though the Border Collie didn''t budge an inch. He was probably a lot stronger than he looked.


    "You''re not secretly Qana''s son, are you?" Hamp senpai asked, and I suspected there was a hint of envy in his tone.


    "Biologically impossible," I muttered, lowering my gaze and scratching my ear, feeling rather conflicted.


    "Who was the other forger?" Kotetsu senpai asked, clearly less interested in gossip. This time, Hamp senpai shot him a surprised look, raising one eyebrow. But the Border Collie quickly returned to his usual expression, as if nothing had happened.


    Should I remember this little episode?


    "Qana, I think," I answered truthfully. "He didn''t really explain it to me in much detail."


    "A complete adamantine weapon can''t be forged by just one person. It requires at least two participants," Kotetsu senpai said slowly, sizing me up. "And in this case, both parties would have to be exceptionally powerful to complete the forging with only two people." His pupils contracted slightly, and those dark brown eyes seemed bottomless.


    "Oh, I wouldn''t know about that," I recalled all the conversations we''d had, but Qana had never clearly mentioned anything about the identity of the forger. "Ah!" An alternative suddenly came to mind, and I looked at the deer, who seemed a bit lost in the conversation. "But Tadao should know! He can touch the ripples in the time dimension, and he just touched Gray Snow!"


    Kotetsu senpai gave Tadao a meaningful look, as if he was noticing him for the first time.


    "A ''True Seer,'' huh? It''s been a while," Hamp senpai muttered, gesturing for us to keep moving, lest the cafeteria close on us. "Don''t you think the freshman is getting more and more outrageous?"


    "I''ve heard that the closer we get to the final reckoning, the more singularities are likely to appear," Kotetsu senpai replied quietly, waving to two gazelles approaching from the opposite direction. They returned the gesture in kind. "But you really dared to touch a complete adamantine weapon with an owner. That''s quite... bold."


    "That''s stupid," Hamp senpai snorted in frustration, casting a sideways glance at Tadao. "And extremely lucky."


    "I..." Tadao glanced at me briefly but quickly turned his head back. "I didn''t know what it was at the time."


    "Was it the Gamma Holography Room?" Hamp senpai asked.


    "Beta," Kotetsu senpai replied before shuddering violently. "Even just passing through the hallway makes me nauseous now."


    "That happened during our first-year finals at the Academy..." Hamp senpai murmured, rubbing his cheek awkwardly. "No one knows exactly what happened, but it''s been speculated that a group of senior Cadets got overly excited after successfully forging a complete adamantine weapon. They let their guard down at the celebration party and allowed someone who wasn''t the forger or the owner to touch the weapon."


    "The Masters had always warned about the dangers of such things, but it''s said this happens once every three years on average," Kotetsu senpai continued, shrugging. "Whatever the reason for the contact, the final outcome was that all thirteen Cadets in the room... exploded, including the weapon''s owner and the weapon itself."


    "They say they had to use scrapers to get what was left off the walls. And what they managed to collect didn''t even fill a single sock," Hamp senpai sighed, brushing his hair aside to let his ears stand upright. "We''re pretty sure the Academy covered up a lot of details. At that time, all the Beta-level Cadets were called in to assist... with the aftermath." He hesitated, choosing a more neutral word.


    "The traces left at the scene were definitely the result of a battle involving psychic abilities, but the Academy just called it a ''terrible accident'' and left it at that," Kotetsu senpai sighed as well, patting Hamp senpai on the back. "After all, the most valuable thing in Academy is knowledge. No one''s going to give it to you for free."


    I could tell that the imagery must have been truly disturbing to have had such an impact on both seniors. And now, I understood they were both Beta-level psychics. Speaking of which, I still didn''t know what their relationship was. Were they roommates, or was it something else? Would it be rude to ask directly, or would making assumptions be even ruder?


    "Was it Master Dawn who handled the situation?" Hamp senpai asked. The name caught my attention, pulling me out of my hesitant thoughts--this was a Gray name.


    "I heard she rushed into the room immediately and took emergency measures, which prevented the situation from escalating," Kotetsu senpai added. "But we only know that Master Dawn was severely injured as a result. Ever since that accident, she rarely leaves her lab."


    "The Academy and Master Dawn have remained tight-lipped about what exactly happened, only fueling even wilder rumors. But anyone who''s seen the aftermath wouldn''t have any curiosity left about what actually happened," Hamp senpai shook his head and continued. "So, you''re just very lucky."


    I glanced at Tadao, who seemed a little uneasy. I considered opening my mind to sense his emotions, but I wasn''t sure if it was wise to do so with all these psychics around.


    "Did you see the Forgers?" Kotetsu senpai asked. Once again, Hamp senpai gave him that look. This time, I noticed the Border Collie''s ears slightly lowering, aimed at the Altai wapiti.


    "What are forgers?" Tadao asked, his gaze somewhat unfocused. From the corner of my eye, I saw him steal a quick glance at me.


    " Complete Adamantine weapons require more than just Domination to hold their form. The forgers must also inject and stabilize enough consciousness to create a complete adamantine weapon. In concept, it''s like embedding a part of their soul into it," Kotetsu senpai explained. "Because this process requires recognition from the Existence Circle, forgers must come into contact with the weapon itself when creating a complete adamantine weapon."


    Qana never explained this part to me. So, does that mean a part of the Swordmaster''s self is stored within Gray Snow? What does it feel like to have part of oneself torn away...?


    I unconsciously clenched my fists, feeling the pressure of my nails against my palms. This gift might be much more valuable than I had thought.


    "So aside from the forger and the owner, no one else can touch a complete adamantine weapon?" Tadao asked.


    "Maybe I should put it this way: you can only touch it once." Kotetsu senpai spread his hands. "I''ve heard that the mildest rejection just pushes you away, so it''s not as dramatic as it sounds. But that doesn''t mean you should take the risk--no one knows if the first touch will have the same effect as subsequent ones." He turned to look at Tadao. "What was your experience?"


    "Uh..." Tadao looked a bit embarrassed, scratching his cheek awkwardly. "I''d say it was like... time had stopped."


    Hamp senpai and Kotetsu senpai exchanged a glance. The Border Collie simply shrugged and shook his head slightly.


    "And what about the forger?" Kotetsu senpai asked again. By now, even I could tell he was oddly fixated on this question.


    "There was only a big, muscular white wolf that looked like it could punch through steel," Tadao said, his expression one of intense recollection. "No one else touched Gray Snow."


    "That''s Qana!" I confirmed to them, but after saying it, I noticed Tadao''s description of Qana. Well, it wasn''t too far off, I guess?


    "No one else?" Kotetsu senpai raised an eyebrow, seeking confirmation.


    "Yeah." Tadao thought for a moment and then added, "Maybe it''s because I can''t access the full memory, but other than that wolf, no one else has wielded Gray Snow."


    "Could it be that Qana found a way for adamantine weapons to be completed by a single forger?" Kotetsu senpai looked at the Border Collie as he asked.


    "According to Master Tartarus'' lectures, that''s impossible. A complete adamantine weapon requires the connection between multiple forgers to inject a sufficient amount of consciousness," Hamp senpai shook his head. "Besides, I don''t think there''s any reason for one Senate member to hide such a major breakthrough from another." The Border Collie tilted his head, deciding to add further. "This kind of approach doesn''t align with what we know about Winter of Europa, either."


    "Alright." Kotetsu senpai let out a long breath, finally giving up. "It''s a shame you couldn''t see the entire memory, though, after taking the risk of touching a complete adamantine weapon."


    "Yeah, it really is," Tadao chuckled dryly.


    "One of the important rules for surviving at the academy until your deployment is: don''t go touching mysterious, cool-looking objects without knowing what they are," Hamp senpai said, elbowing the Altai wapiti in the side. "Am I right?"


    Kotetsu senpai clicked his tongue and slapped the Border Collie''s hand away.


    "I thought we agreed you''d never bring that up again, as long as I didn''t tell anyone about how your butt--" the Altai wapiti crossed his arms, his tone full of grumbling malice, but he was quickly cut off by the Border Collie.


    "Ahaha, yeah, I totally forgot!" Hamp senpai waved his hands frantically, clearly flustered. "You guys didn''t hear anything!" He turned to glare at me and Tadao in turn.


    I repeatedly assured Hamp senpai that I hadn''t paid any attention to the conversation, smiling sheepishly as I scratched my ear.


    As we continued down the corridor, with its unchanging repetitive design, I noticed that Tadao''s body language had grown more awkward, and he didn''t participate in the conversation anymore.


    When our eyes met, his brown eyes blinked slowly before looking away.


    I tried engaging him with questions related to the Federation or herbivores, but Tadao only gave very brief responses. In contrast, Kotetsu senpai seemed more willing to answer my questions. I soon stopped pressing Tadao and focused on talking with the senpais instead. After all, we were going to live together for six years--there was plenty of time ahead, no need to rush. Coming on too strong might not be welcomed by herbivores, I figured.


    Hamp senpai must have said something amusing, causing Kotetsu senpai to laugh. Maybe influenced by the subtle shift in atmosphere, I found myself smiling as well.


    Perhaps this is what socializing means?


    I continued to explore this new, unfamiliar territory, decoding bits of Academy information hidden within what seemed like casual, everyday conversations.

 The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 9 - Academy 9.7

    The cafeteria was very plain, nothing special about it. Where exactly was all the council''s budget going?


    "What are you having?" Kotetsu senpai sat down and asked us, "I''ll go place the order."


    "Angus ribeye, medium rare," I blurted out, not realizing just how much I missed the taste.


    The border collie snorted with laughter, quickly covering his snout with his paws, though he still couldn''t suppress the occasional gasping sound. Kotetsu senpai shot him an annoyed glance before turning his attention to Tadao.


    "Your command phrase is quite unique..." Tadao muttered, glancing my way. "''Anything green will do,'' huh?"


    Hamp senpai couldn''t hold back anymore. He collapsed onto the table, pounding it with his fists as he laughed. Kotetsu senpai sighed, got up, and walked over to a platform in the center of the room, which was equipped with a conveyor belt, tapping away at his terminal.


    "Oh, my Rationalism..." Hamp senpai finally sat up again, wiping away tears of laughter. "Why''d you order that?"


    "The ribeye?" I tilted my head, not quite understanding his question. "I had it once at the Colosseo, thought it was amazing."


    "So you know the Academy doesn''t use food synthesizers, right?" Hamp senpai gave me a knowing look, to which I nodded in confirmation. "Then don''t you think it''s a bit... controversial to eat meat in front of herbivores?" He tilted his head slightly.


    "Oh," I glanced at Tadao, who didn''t seem to be reacting much, but then again, I wasn''t an expert at reading the room. "But it''s just printed food. It''s not really connected to the original thing anymore, is it? It''s more of a simulacrum at best."


    The thought of eating someone else''s body made me feel nauseous. I couldn''t imagine how people dealt with this before food synthesizers were invented. Suddenly, I understood what Hamp senpai meant by "controversial," and a shiver ran down my spine. I was relieved to have been born after the invention of the food synthesizer, even if I never got to order exactly what I wanted.


    "The postmodernists would have a field day hearing you say that, but please, I beg you--don''t join them." Hamp senpai held up his hands as if calling for Rationalism judgment. I nodded in confusing agreement. "What about you?" He raised his snout slightly, gesturing toward Tadao.


    "I thought we were supposed to use command phrases for the synthesizer," Tadao replied, glancing around the room. "Most of the time, I just end up with some kind of salad. I''m not too picky." His eyes finally landed on me. "What''s a ribeye?"


    "It''s mainly the longissimus and some surrounding muscle groups, including--" I started to explain but stopped when I noticed Tadao''s face contorting in discomfort. "Uh... I know it sounds like I''m spouting jargon, but you did ask me what a ribeye is."


    "Oh, for Rationalism''s sake. If I''d known, I would''ve agreed to take a Junior Mentee. How can you be this adorable?" Hamp senpai placed his paws over his eyes and chuckled again, making my ears burn with embarrassment. "This is what I meant by ''controversial.''" He shook his head and placed his paws back on the table, locking eyes with me. "Don''t eat meat in front of herbivores, even if they say it''s fine--it''s rude."


    "Oh..." I glanced at Tadao, sitting to my left. He seemed a bit more uncomfortable now. "Sorry, I''ll be more careful in the future."


    "It''s fine." Tadao waved his hand dismissively, trying to show he didn''t mind, though even I could tell it wasn''t very convincing. "It''s just cultural shock. I''ve never eaten with carnivores before..."


    "Same here." I glanced around the cafeteria at the variety of species eating together. "I guess it''s a good chance to understand everyone''s differences."


    Hamp senpai raised his right eyebrow, tilting his head slightly and folding one ear down as he looked at me. I wasn''t quite sure what that meant. Does body language change the message when combined with an eyebrow raise?


    "Anyway," Tadao cleared his throat, probably trying to break the awkward silence, "How do we pay for the food? Do they accept Federation credits here?"


    "Oh, don''t worry about that. At first, your Senior Mentor will cover you." Hamp senpai raised a thumb and gestured behind him. "This one''s on Kotetsu." He gave us a sly grin.


    "What does ''cover you'' mean?" I''d already been struggling to keep up with the conversation but felt too embarrassed to interrupt earlier.


    "Oh, my bad." Hamp senpai clicked his tongue and tilted his head. "I always forget that wolves from the Senate don''t use credits."


    "They don''t use credits?" Tadao glanced curiously at me. "Then how do they...?"


    "They just don''t." Hamp senpai waved his hand nonchalantly.


    "Oh." Tadao seemed to grasp something. "I guess the Empire doesn''t work the way I imagined?"


    "Not exactly... It''s hard to explain." The border collie opened his mouth as if to elaborate, then thought better of it. "I shouldn''t be telling you all this now. There''s a class tomorrow that will explain the basic truths you need to know."


    "''Basic'' truths?" Tadao seemed only to have more questions.


    I understood his confusion. If there were "basic" truths, what were the "advanced" ones? But Hamp senpai simply waved his hands in dismissal, signaling that we''d find out in due time and had no intention of explaining further right now.


    "Back to what we were saying, in simple terms, everything in the Academy has a price." Hamp senpai looked at me. "Aside from your first set of printed essentials, after that, everything costs points--so make sure to keep a list." He pointed at each of us in turn, and I nodded, mentally reminding myself not to forget. "Meals, miscellaneous expenses, materials, trades with other cadets, and even certain courses will require points."


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    Hamp senpai tapped his nails on the table to emphasize his point, and I was busy digesting this concept. It seemed like some kind of quantifiable exchange system. Not too hard to grasp.


    "Then doesn''t that make it even more awkward to have Kotetsu senpai cover us?" Tadao glanced at the Altai Wapiti with a slight shift in his posture, clearly feeling uneasy.


    "Cadets who agree to take on mentees are given points by the Academy to support your initial expenses." Hamp senpai suddenly pointed at Tadao, baring the tips of his fangs just slightly. "You''re Donald''s, right? The rottweiler?" Tadao nodded, shrinking a bit. Maybe I shouldn''t flash my fangs at herbivores either? "I''ll have a ''talk'' with him." Hamp senpai''s tone alone was enough to make him intimidate, even without any actual threat behind it.


    "Is there any way to... earn points?" For some reason, I felt a surge of excitement. How strange. Was I really interested in a system that required constant negotiation?


    "Oh, don''t worry about that." Hamp senpai clapped his hands with a chuckle. "One of you is a Ture Seer, and the other is an Alpha-class beast. Earning points is the least of your worries."


    I tilted my head, lowering my right ear. That sounded... reassuring? Unless I misunderstood, and he meant, "You''ll have bigger problems to deal with." I recalled some of the things Qana had mentioned earlier.


    "Alpha-level psychics are... uh... what exactly?" Tadao glanced at me, asking hesitantly. "I''m not too familiar with these things..."


    Hamp senpai waved his hand, signaling that Tadao shouldn''t worry, then turned his gaze toward me.


    "Richter, what does it mean to be an Alpha-level psychic?" He raised his paw toward me, signaling that he was giving me the floor to explain.


    "It refers to having a consciousness circle large enough to envelop an entire planet and being capable of suppressing the consciousness union of all the planet''s inhabitants without the involvement of other psychics." I recited what Qana had taught me.


    "I still don''t quite understand..." Tadao glanced between me and the border collie.


    "It means that if Richter ever decided to do so, and without any psychics to stop him, our seemingly harmless, adorable gray wolf could crush Ares with just a thought." Hamp senpai snapped his fingers for emphasis, causing Tadao to nearly jump out of his seat.


    I didn''t quite understand why Hamp senpai felt the need to say all that to Tadao. Some sort of... geopolitical issue?


    "I''m not the type to sugarcoat things. Pretending that the conflict between the Federation and the Empire isn''t on the brink of exploding while we all play house in the Academy serves no purpose." The border collie gestured in the air. "Understanding the truth, making decisions, bearing the risks, and paying the price--this is what it means to be psychic." He looked at the two of us in turn, speaking slowly. "If you don''t realize that you''re an extraordinary being, one among millions, with the responsibility that comes with it, then I''m certain you''ll be on your way home by tomorrow." Hamp senpai didn''t make any strong physical gestures, but his words alone carried intense pressure.


    Wait... I felt it. He... was influencing us with his waves. So... natural, I almost thought it was my own feelings.


    I raised an eyebrow, questioning him with a look. He responded with a small smile, showing his right canine tooth.


    "Hey, hey, I thought you preferred playing the good guy." Kotetsu senpai returned with our meals, four plates floating around him.


    I stood up to take my steak, along with a plate of alfalfa salad, which I placed in front of Tadao. He seemed like he was about to stand as well but, for some reason, paused and stared at his hands, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists.


    With a faint smile, Kotetsu senpai observed Tadao''s confused expression before sitting down and placing a fish in front of the border collie.


    "What?" Hamp senpai grinned widely, baring his teeth in response to my puzzled expression.


    "Do you usually keep your inherent consciousness circle withdrawn?" Kotetsu senpai asked while pouring dressing over his salad. The strong smell made me wrinkle my nose.


    "Yeah." I rubbed my nose and picked up my knife and fork. "I''m used to it."


    "So that''s..." Tadao continued trying to move his hands, probably realizing that once Kotetsu senpai released his circle, he could move freely again. "Domination, right?"


    "Yes." Hamp senpai elbowed the Altai Wapiti. "Kotetsu is really impressive, you know. One of the top three in our cohort."


    "Ugh, hearing that from a carnivore doesn''t sit well with me." Kotetsu senpai jokingly pushed back. "Besides, there are a lot of nuances. Don''t listen to Hamp; strength isn''t that simple."


    The border collie shrugged, then somehow managed to break the fish''s head and cleanly pull out its spine, leaving even the tail fin intact.


    "Show-off," Kotetsu senpai muttered while chewing on his salad.


    I consciously closed my mouth, planning to study how he did that later.


    "Back to the topic of heading home. Tomorrow morning, there will be another evaluation." Hamp senpai stared at Tadao, emphasizing in a serious tone. "Though I may have been a bit too intense earlier, you don''t need to worry. No one has been eliminated at this stage in over ten years. Just stay calm. But in a way, being eliminated at this point might actually be a blessing." Hamp senpai said this as he speared a piece of fish and ate it.


    "Eliminated? What does that mean?" This didn''t sound good at all, and I could feel my fur bristle. Qana had never mentioned anything about this.


    "Besides tomorrow''s evaluation, starting in the third year, there will be an exam at the end of each Academic year. Failing certain parts will result in elimination." Kotetsu senpai circled his fork in the air next to his head. "Memories sealed, and expulsion from the Academy."


    "Memory... sealing?" Tadao looked a bit worried. "Is that even possible?"


    "Yes." Kotetsu senpai answered simply.


    "But Richter, you don''t need to worry about tomorrow''s evaluation. Being a wolf from the Senate means you''ll automatically pass." The way Hamp senpai sliced the fish on his plate made me suspect he had some swordsmanship skills. "Congratulations, you get an extra half-day off."


    "Why?" Tadao lowered his head, poking at his salad. I could smell his dissatisfaction.


    "It''s understandable that you feel this way. I thought it was unfair too at first," Kotetsu senpai sighed. "But I think after tomorrow''s evaluation, you''ll realize you owe Richter an apology."


    Tadao continued prodding his alfalfa, waiting for a more detailed explanation, but neither of the seniors said anything more.


    "Oh, right." To ease the awkwardness of being the topic of discussion, I pulled out my personal terminal and placed it on the table. "Does the Academy have an internal terminal system? I need to contact someone." Well, just one person. I was sure Qana would be fine on his own.


    Unexpectedly, both seniors exchanged glances. Even Tadao looked at me with a somewhat puzzled expression.


    "Didn''t they explain this to you during the test?" Tadao asked. I shook my head.


    "Freshmen are prohibited from contacting the outside world. To prevent you from..." Kotetsu senpai paused. "Saying something you shouldn''t."


    "Oh." I responded in a bit of a daze, unsure how to react.


    "I guess you didn''t get the full briefing because you are... unexpected surprise," Kotetsu senpai said as the border collie shot him a questioning glance. "I''ll ask around, see if there''s any workaround."


    "Thanks, I appreciate it," I mumbled, lowering my gaze and continuing with my meal.


    Suddenly, my terminal buzzed twice. I unlocked the screen with faint hope of seeing a message about external contact, but I knew that wasn''t possible. I heard Tadao''s terminal buzz too.


    "It''s time," Hamp senpai said, pulling a napkin from the drawer beside the table and wiping his mouth. "Fill it out early, it''s important." He pointed to our terminals.


    I opened the document, which contained dozens of pages, filled with blanks, dropdown menus, and checkboxes.


    "Especially you, Richter." Kotetsu senpai said as he gathered the last leaves of his salad onto his fork. "I''m sure by tomorrow--or maybe even tonight--a master will try to recruit you." He finished the last bite of his salad and placed the fork on his empty plate. "The sooner you fill it out, the better it''ll be for you."


    I thanked the seniors and hurried through the rest of my meal, not wanting to make them wait too long. For the remainder of the time, with my mouth full of food, I just listened to them chat about various topics, making sure not to let my teeth show.

 Academy 9.6

    Back in my dorm room, I spent some time figuring out how to sync my personal device with the desktop terminal. In the end, all I had to do was place the black rectangular panel on the desk and scan my biometrics. Easy enough.


    I then spent the entire afternoon filling out forms, answering all sorts of questions ranging from "Any potential unregistered allergies or medical conditions?" to "Have you ever entered ''Tel''aran''rhiod''?" They were... pretty thorough.


    Only one section remained: "With your psychic abilities, what goals do you hope to achieve?" I tapped my fingernail lightly on the screen.


    "Why are they asking about gender, sexual orientation, and preferences? Isn''t that a bit intrusive?" Tadao complained behind me.


    "I guess...," I thought, my ears feeling a bit warm, "Maybe for matchmaking events or something?" I couldn''t quite picture it. "But it''s not mandatory, so I don''t really mind."


    "What''s... ''demisexual''?" Tadao hesitated over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar term.


    "It''s a gray area orientation--someone who only feels sexual attraction towards people they''ve established a significant emotional bond with." I wasn''t completely sure, so I opened the browser to double-check. Sometimes I get mixed up between gender identity and sexual orientation myself.


    "But isn''t that... normal?" Tadao sounded confused. "Who would feel attraction without an emotional connection?"


    "Oh, I think you''re mixing up ''sexual attraction'' with ''romantic orientation.''" I sent him a link to the definitions. "I don''t fully get it either, but I think that''s how it works." Scratching my ear, I realized that if I wanted to ask someone more about this, I wouldn''t even know who to turn to. Master Faurik, maybe? That would be weird.


    I shrugged, relieved this wasn''t something I needed to worry about.


    "I was going to pick ''heterosexual,'' but...," I glanced back at Tadao, who was scrolling through the terms and reading other related links. "This is so... complicated. Now I''m not sure."


    Wait, is this something that actually happens to people?


    "Um... I think there''s an ''Undecided'' option?" I remembered my earlier conversation with Qana, wondering why I couldn''t talk about these things as casually as he could.


    "Sounds good," I heard the sound of him tapping the screen. "What about you?"


    What? Wasn''t he just complaining about intrusive?


    "Gay." I wasn''t sure how to respond without sounding awkward, but this was the best I could manage.


    "Oh." Tadao responded simply. If he was trying to act unbothered, he was doing a much better job than I was. "Does it... feel any different?"


    "Hmm..." I didn''t bother correcting the slight inaccuracy in his question; I could guess what he meant. "I''d like to say ''no,'' but my case is a little... special. I''m not sure how the different factors correlate or what''s causation."


    I didn''t need to expand my senses to feel Tadao''s confused gaze on my back.


    "For most of my life, the last decade or so at least, I haven''t really had any normal conversations or interactions with other gray wolves my age." I continued tapping the screen with my nail, still unsure what to write. "So, I can''t say for sure if my feelings and my situation are due to social isolation or some other psychological or biological factors."


    "Oh... sorry. That sounds... rough." He sounded awkward. "I didn''t mean to make you uncomfortable."


    "Not really. I was always an unwelcome presence in the Senate. And loneliness is just a state, nothing more. I''ve grown used to it," I said quietly, absentmindedly scrolling through the document.


    "But I think...," after a brief silence, Tadao spoke again, "In a new environment, maybe you''ll find some answers?"


    "I think so, too," I felt a smile forming at the corner of my mouth. "This is a fresh start."


    After that, we both focused on our own tasks, not saying much. I returned to answering the question, "What goals do you hope to achieve?", writing down my most honest thoughts.


    Later, I spent some time printing my everyday items. There''s something strangely fascinating about watching the nano-nozzle layer molecules according to the blueprint, eventually forming a real object. It felt almost magical.


    I admit it was a bit silly, but I went with the Senate''s style of clothing. Fashion was never my strong suit, and I didn''t care much about it anyway, so practicality and habit were more important.


    When dinner came around, Tadao went off with Hemp senpai for some "talk," leaving me and Altai wapiti alone in the dining hall.


    "Sorry, the Academy replied that they can''t make an exception for you, but they will forward your situation to Qana," Kotetsu senpai said as soon as he sat down, probably noticing my anxiousness.


    I was still a bit disappointed, but I knew this wasn''t something he could control, so I simply thanked him and quietly hoped Qana would explain my situation to Aether.


    "Only four? That''s fewer than I expected." Kotetsu senpai glanced over the invitations I''d received before handing my terminal back to me.


    Receiving letters from Masters Sunflare and Takahashi left me both confused and surprised, though part of me had anticipated it. The other two were signed by Dawn and Field.


    "Those two are... rather mysterious figures," Kotetsu senpai rubbed his temples. "Master Dawn, as you might know, is a gray wolf from the Gray faction, specializing in medicine. It''s such a niche field that no one''s really sure what her expertise is." He scrolled to Master Field''s letter. "Master Field, a dragon. Among active psychics, his strength is second only to Master Sunflare. But ''active'' might not be the best word for him." I could see Kotetsu senpai''s slight frustration. "He''s temperamental and irritable, and he''s never accepted a single apprentice''s application. So, no one knows what he''s up to."


    "Hmm..." I tucked the terminal back into its armband. "Still, that''s really helpful. Thanks so much!"


    "No need to thank me. These rumors won''t be of much help," he said, waving dismissively and sounding a bit exasperated. "So, what''s your plan for replying to them?"


    "I think I''ll go meet all of them," I replied, making him raise an eyebrow. "I mean, the masters included their schedules, and not going, even for just an initial meeting, would be rude, right?" It seemed they had coordinated in advance since all the times they offered were staggered. I¡¯ve already confirmed my attendance.


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    "Hmm... well, alright," he said, returning to his meal. "Just a chat shouldn''t hurt, but sometimes, even the decision to attend certain events can provoke some factions."


    I folded my right ear, tilting my head in curiosity, hoping for further explanation.


    "Sorry, conflict of interest," Kotetsu senpai said with a small shake of his head. "You''ll have to figure it out on your own."


    I nodded in understanding and focused back on my meal. I tried to pull the spine out of the fish in one go--and failed.


    I noticed Kotetsu senpai stifling a smile, and with mild embarrassment, I scratched my ear and resigned myself to using the knife and fork.


    There''s always tomorrow.


    When I returned to the room, Tadao was already back, sitting at the desk, staring at something.


    "Hey," I greeted him first. He glanced at me and raised a hand in response. "How did it go? I didn''t see you guys at dinner."


    "I suppose it went well enough," Tadao answered after thinking for a moment. "At least for me."


    "Oh, that sounds great." I said, imagining all the possible scenarios behind his "at least for me" response. "Congrats on a successful resolution?"


    "My Senior Mentor got switched to Hemp senpai," Tadao said, sparking my curiosity and making me wait for his explanation. " Donald refused to spend any energy on me, and he wouldn''t cough up any of his points. So, Hemp senpai told that Rottweiler he could shove his points up his own ass, and from now on, I''d be under him." Tadao shrugged and smiled at me. "It felt just like when my parents got divorced."


    I wasn''t sure how serious he was about that joke or even if he fully understood the concept of divorce, but I went along with his mood and chuckled a few times.


    I pulled out my change of clothes, intending to take a shower and then go straight to bed. I hadn''t done much today, but I still felt utterly exhausted. I guess this was what they called social burnout?


    "Oh, by the way, I think that''s for you." Tadao pointed at the wall, and I noticed something--a tube? In the middle of our shared space, at the bottom of the tube, was a semi-transparent capsule. I couldn''t tell what was inside, but I could see my name labeled on the capsule.


    "Thanks." I thanked Tadao and walked over to the tube. After signing up for it with my biometric data, I opened the capsule. Inside was a small blue pill and a note. Reading the note, I realized it was like a prescription, filled with various warnings and precautions, and a description of the medication''s purpose--to prevent the user from entering a state known as Tel''aran''rhiod.


    I shrugged. Not seeing any reason to object, I swallowed the pill.


    The note also explained that I wouldn''t be eligible to apply for a "Dreamwalking" license until my third year and suggested some prerequisite courses.


    I''d have to take this for three years, so I decided to review the common side effects once more--constipation--well, maybe I could counter that by eating more vegetables?


    I put the empty semi-transparent capsule back at the bottom of the tube, watching it gets sucked away with a soft whoosh, disappearing into the ceiling.


    How... retro.


    "Richter." Just as I was about to open the bathroom door, Tadao called out to me from behind.


    I turned around and saw that he was still sitting in the chair but had turned to face me.


    "I''m sorry for earlier... for acting like an asshole," he said quietly, not breaking eye contact. "And for touching your... property without your permission. I''m really sorry."


    I hadn''t expected him to bring this up; it felt sudden. But I didn''t really mind.


    "Uh... I think it''s no big deal," I said. I wasn''t sure how serious these matters were from his perspective, but I didn''t care much, especially considering it wasn''t me who almost got blown to bits. "But if you could stop acting like an asshole too, I''d appreciate it." I said, my ears flattened.


    "I''ll do my best." He smiled, which made my tail sway slightly.


    Just as I was about to turn away, Tadao continued speaking.


    "I know you probably... think Kotetsu senpai is a good person because that''s the impression I get too," Tadao said, his tone and expression growing serious. "But you shouldn''t trust him too much..." He hesitated for a while, his words coming out in fits and starts. "He''s an Altai wapiti. They... are fundamentalists of the Federation."


    I tilted my head in confusion, my ears folded back and pointed toward Tadao as I narrowed my eyes.


    "I''m a red deer, the most common species in the Federation--but that''s not the point." He tapped his chest twice for emphasis. "Red deer--Cervus elaphus--really don''t like being mistaken for Altai wapiti because their stance is way too extreme, even for the Federation''s nationalists." Tadao''s tone became irritating.


    "So... does this mean anything?" I wasn''t sure where this conversation was headed, so I asked directly.


    "He''s the Federation''s strongest psychic, and you''re the Empire''s strongest psychic. Does that make sense now?" Tadao crossed his arms, looking increasingly impatient.


    "Oh..." I scratched my ear. "But... that doesn''t mean anything..."


    "Are you telling me Kotetsu senpai didn''t show an unhealthy obsession with forging a complete adamantine weapon?" Tadao rolled his eyes at me, and I could only silently accept his statement as fact.


    "Then why are you telling me this...?" I lowered my gaze, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Aren''t you also a citizen of the Federation?"


    "Because..." Tadao sighed. "I don''t know, maybe because... I feel like it''s wrong?" He shook his head forcefully. "It''s not important. Just remember, the Altai wapiti always have their own agenda."


    I wasn''t sure how to process this information. I believed Tadao meant well, but I also knew how much damage stereotypes and prejudices could cause. I didn''t think I should change my opinion of Kotetsu senpai just because of his race. Even if his actions did seem a bit suspicious... it could simply be that I didn''t know him well enough yet.


    "That''s why I didn''t let him know I had seen... all of Gray Snow''s memories." Tadao glanced at the sword hanging on the wall. "From start to end, only two psychics have truly touched that sword. One is Qana--the big white wolf." He paused and made eye contact with me again. "The other... is you."


    "Oh, isn''t that expected?" Doesn''t that just mean only we''ve handled Gray Snow?


    "Because Kotetsu senpai is far too interested in complete adamantine weapons--which I can understand, considering herbivores can hardly forge them." Tadao sighed, leaning back in his chair. "So I checked some details with Hemp senpai, including what we talked about at lunch."


    I recalled our conversation in the cafeteria. Some details were fuzzy, but I could remember the main points.


    "Based on the rules for forging a complete adamantine weapon, the forgers of Gray Snow must be Qana and you." Tadao spoke in a conclusive tone, his brown eyes fixed on me, possibly waiting for a response.


    "But..." That didn''t make sense. Did I complete my part unconsciously? However, if forging a complete adamantine weapon requires at least two people and only Qana and I had ever touched Gray Snow, then... logically speaking, we must be the forgers. That was the only explanation. "What does that mean?" I finally broke free from my chaotic thoughts and asked the red deer.


    "I don''t know." Tadao shrugged. "But I thought I should tell you since it''s... my fault." He glanced at Gray Snow again.


    "Then..." I was just about to touch the bathroom''s sliding panel but couldn''t resist turning back. "What did you end up seeing?"


    Tadao''s expression fell. He averted his eyes and turned back toward his desk.


    "It''s hard to describe... a formless, ever-shifting monster..." he muttered quietly. "I don''t know what I saw, but it was terrifying. I can''t put it into words."


    "Oh, okay." I sighed internally, suppressing my suspicion that he might be lying. "Well... see you tomorrow, then?" I saw that Tadao was shutting down his terminal and appeared to be ready for bed.


    He responded and wished me good night before climbing into bed. Once the lights dimmed in the room, I waited a while longer before heading into the bathroom.


    It had been a long time since I''d had a proper shower. But I felt like I really needed to remember the sensation of warm water at just the right temperature flowing over every inch of my body, washing away my scattered thoughts and exhaustion.


    Lowering my snout, I relaxed my entire body, letting my ears and tail droop naturally as I watched the tiny droplets gather at the tips of my now-soaked fur before falling. Drip, drip, forming momentary ripples on the shallow water pooling on the floor.


    I took several deep breaths, letting the misty steam enter my nostrils, soothing the dryness of my snout.


    I was so incredibly tired.


    I''d forgotten how much I disliked socializing. And all these years without practice certainly hadn''t helped.


    Political scheming, the undercurrents of power struggles, factional alignments, invitations from masters with unclear motives... It was all so exhausting.


    I turned off the water and tilted my snout upward, shaking my head vigorously.


    I didn''t want to start my new life this way. But... as long as there''s interaction, isn''t this bound to happen?


    With a deep sigh of resignation, I decided that whatever problems there were, they could all wait until tomorrow.


    Expanding my consciousness, I dried myself off and got dressed before leaving the bathroom.


    Judging from his breathing, Tadao was already asleep. So, I silently slipped into bed, feeling satisfied with its softness and comfort, just as it had appeared.


    After adjusting my position, I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, then decided to follow through with my final plan: closing my eyes into unknow. Perhaps it was the effect of that blue pill, but on this busy night, I quickly fell asleep and slept deeply.