From the Azure Dragon Clan’s freshmen, a couple of the Franklin Four were sent out into the cruel universe. Logan felt bad for them. At the same time, he was grateful to be sitting there, sipping coffee. Most were guzzling wine, beer, Liverkill from Vralkag, and even some of the Gelatinous Knight’s soonerberry hooch.
Other freshmen had been murdered by raiders and their cores absorbed. It was tragic in its way, but Shadowcroft had a brutal logic to it—better to lose students before they found themselves in dungeons protecting the Tree of Souls.
The Terrible Twelfth was finishing off the year with far more power than they’d had when they’d first been thrown together back in September. Marko had advanced to Iron Trunk, Rank 5, and Logan had skipped all the way to Rank 4, which gave both of them a bunch of new abilities. Logan wasn’t going to rush to choose his next mushroom powers—there wasn’t a need. He had two months before the next school year started up again in earnest. Two months to decide. Shadowcroft needed time to reap new souls and prepare for the new year of incoming guardians.
Marko, as impetuous as ever, wanted to choose right away, but Inga talked him down.
Treacle ended the year as an Iron Trunk, Rank 3, and he looked forward to spending the summer getting special tutoring from Professor Ronnalg Crucible. Crucible had taken a shine to the minotaur. Both could sigh like professionals, and both loved crafting. It was a match made in heaven. The minotaur was confident that he’d be able to unravel the mysteries surrounding the magic items they’d won in the Winnowing.
As for Inga? She was one rank away from leveling to an Azure Branch cultivator. She was a C-Class, Rank 1, and she was looking at trying out new cultivation techniques to break through to B-Class. That was Inga—unable to focus and always looking for the new shiny idea. She’d managed to get a job with Madam Orry Gammy for the summer, which would give her access to the bowels of the Codex Athenaeum and an array of new books. Naturally, she was thrilled.
Logan was a little less pleased about his summer situation.
Most of the third- and fourth-year students would abandon Arborea, sent off into the multiverse on epic quests to hone their skills, help them cultivate more power, and acquire rare items to use in their future dungeons. First- and second-years, however, weren’t trusted with their freedom, so they had to help pull their weight around the academy grounds by helping the staff. Inga and Treacle were both set, and Marko was going to be working with the Gelatinous Knight at the Wayfarer Inn, deep in the heart of the Xiru Forest.
Logan, however, still hadn’t been offered an assignment, which was a little concerning.
“I think we’re going to hear from the rector prime,” Inga said, drawing Logan out of his thoughts. “He’s saying he had a little accident during the Winnowing.”
“Yeah,” Marko spat. “That accident was us—kicking his ass!” The satyr wore the bright, gem-encrusted robes they’d taken from the Vampiric Runecaster, and he actually was dramatic enough to pull off the look.
Logan wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Yullis Rockheart leaned heavily on a ruby-topped cane as he limped across the raised dais at the front of the hall. The rest of the faculty sat in their clan robes on gorgeous thrones, with a smiling Skip Shadowcroft in the center seat. Arketa the Hellgazer was there, in a fashionable scarf and sunglasses, sitting next to the vulture-headed Bartholomew Nekhbet in wrinkled robes who looked as dull as ever. That didn’t stop Inga from crushing on him.
The shark man, John Toothbyte, was grinning and drinking from a big flagon, while the rakshasa, Suresh the Merciless, frowned. His clan, the Crystal Tiger, hadn’t won. Toothbyte hadn’t won either, but the underwater dungeon master was too good-natured—and tipsy—to care. The sharkish professor obviously loved GK’s soonerberry moonshine.
Rockheart tapped his cane on the dais to silence the students. “I have some announcements to make. As you all are aware, the Azure Dragon Clan has won the year, with over four thousand points!”
His core flashed, showing the leaderboard and the cohort standings, as well as the Winnowing grades.
The Azure Dragon = 4379
The Crystal Tiger = 4285
The Vermilion Phoenix = 4199
The Onyx Tortoise = 3956
Toothbyte let out a hoot. “If ye lose, lose big, says I!”
His clan hooted and hollered and stomped on the floor.
Rockheart didn’t like that at all. “Now, now, no sore losers.” He turned to give Suresh the Merciless a long look.
Suresh grimaced and licked his big tiger chops.
The rector prime turned. “For winning the year, all members of the Azure Dragon will each get a turn in the Sacred Hollow, which as you know, is a wonderful gift. I’m sure.”
Logan had no idea what the Sacred Hollow was. He threw Inga a questioning look. She mouthed: We’ll talk later.
Rockheart cleared his stony throat. “Yes, and we have Soul Powder elixirs for the cohort who won the overall rankings. That would be the Azure Dragon’s First Cohort, led by Prince Chadrigoth of the Eritreus Elite!”
The Abyss Lord, the Archduke Jimi Magmarty, Her Lady Elesiel of Everstar, and Tet-Akhat of the Coptic Champions all rose and walked up to claim their prize. Of course they had won. Logan was pretty sure Chadrigoth was within spitting distance of becoming a Jade Leaf cultivator, which put him well ahead of the rest of his year.
A Vermillion Phoenix cohort won the second prize, which was Purple Animus Potions for all. Professor Arketa was thrilled that a group from her clan had done so well.
Rockheart paused. “This next cohort has been troublesome.” He glanced down at Logan. “They were in my clan, and yet I will openly admit that I have loathed them to their cores. I know many of you have pitied them and their various weaknesses.”
Marko rammed an elbow into Treacle. “He’s talking about us. I mean, you guys. Everyone pities you guys, but I’m still super popular.”
Rockheart pounded his cane on the floor to silence the murmuring. “On a personal level, I would’ve expelled them all. Don’t think I haven’t tried.” That required another glare.
Shadowcroft put a stick hand up to his face and sighed so hard a skull flower lost a petal.
“However,” the rector prime said after an overly long pause, “I was wrong about Logan Murray, Inga Thora Therian, Treacle Glimmerhappy, and even Marko Laskarelis.” Rockheart nodded. “Yes, even the drunken satyr won me over. All four have worked harder than anyone at this school to improve their ranks and to embrace their mission to protect the Tree of Souls. Truly, their solutions have been innovative, their strategies sound, and as I have said, their work ethic beyond compare.”
“What’s a work ethic?” Marko asked.
“It’s what we make you do,” Inga snapped. “Now hush.”
Rockheart stared into Logan’s face. “Logan Murray, the headmaster and I are excited to see what the future holds for you and your friends. Most fungaloids die early. But those who find friends, good friends? The future is theirs for the taking. Come, you four, come and receive your hard-won prize.”
Logan couldn’t believe it. They’d risen in the rankings to become the third best cohort in the school. Mostly it was due to how much they’d leveled, but there were also teacher evaluations, which meant Rockheart must’ve given them glowing marks for his end-of-the-year evaluations. In the end, it had taken killing the rector prime to win him over—who ever would’ve guessed that would be the solution?