Volume 2, Chapter 62: The Golden Transfer
The coffee at the Anito Academy cafeteria was better than the stuff in the North, but it still wasn't the Barako I was dreaming about. It had a faint taste of burnt paper and disappointment. I sat at a small table near the window, watching a squirrel try to navigate a particularly slippery branch outside. My left boot gave a small, traitorous squeak as I shifted my weight. I really need to find some oil for these things.
Being a teacher is mostly about waiting. You wait for the bell, you wait for the students to stop talking, and you wait for the inevitable moment when someone breaks something they shouldn't. I leaned back in my chair, balancing on the back two legs — a habit that would definitely get a student a lecture — and adjusted my glasses.
"Professor? The Dean wants to see you. Now."
I looked up to see a very stressed-out junior staff member. He was clutching a clipboard as if it were a shield. I offered him a confident grin.
"Is the building on fire? Because if it's not on fire, it can probably wait until I finish this very mediocre cup of coffee," I said.
"It's not a fire. It's a… student. A new one."
I sighed, letting the chair legs hit the floor with a dull thud. A new student in the middle of a semester? That usually meant one of two things: a political favor or a problem child. In this world, they were often the same thing.
I walked toward the main administrative office, my squeaky boot announcing my arrival to anyone within a three-block radius. The hallway was quiet, the white stone walls reflecting the afternoon sun. The Academy was a place I had designed to feel grounded and functional rather than flashy and grand. I liked the way the light hit the Baybayin markings etched above the doorways — simple, clean, and full of steady energy.
I pushed open the door to the Dean's office. I didn't knock. It's a waste of knuckles.
"You called, and I have arrived. Try to contain your excitement," I said, walking in.
The Dean was sitting behind his desk, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. But he wasn't alone. Standing in the middle of the room was the girl from the square.
Wang Qiu'er.
She was still wearing the simple, travel-worn clothes from before, but they didn't hide the fact that she looked like she had stepped out of a legend. Her golden hair was even brighter in the office light, and those pink eyes were fixed directly on me.
"Professor Lakas," the Dean said, sounding weary. "This is Wang Qiu'er. She's… a special transfer. Her paperwork is a bit irregular, but her aptitude scores are off the charts. Since you're the one currently handling the advanced cultivation tracks, I've decided she'll be in your class."
"Special, huh?" I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. I looked at her, and she looked back. She didn't blink. She was the Auspicious Beast, the heart of the forest, and she was standing in a carpeted office in a human city.
"I want to learn about the movement of energy," she said. Her voice was steady, but there was a strange vibration to it — a weight that felt like a bell ringing under a frozen lake.
"We call it Soul Power here, kid. And vibration. Songs are for the music department," I lied, my grin never wavering.
"You know what I mean," she replied. She stepped closer, her gaze moving to my squeaky boot and then back to my face. "You carry the rhythm of something old. I want to see why the humans are allowed to hear it."
The Dean coughed into his hand. "Right. Well. Professor, if you could take her to the dormitory and then to the training grounds? The other students — Yuhao and the rest — are already there for their afternoon session."
"Sure. Why not? My afternoon was looking way too productive anyway," I said.
•••••
The walk to the training grounds was a lesson in silence. Qiu'er didn't talk. She didn't look at the buildings or the other students. She just followed me, her steps perfectly synchronized with mine. Every time my left boot squeaked, she tilted her head just a fraction of an inch, as if she were trying to figure out why a piece of the world was making such an annoying noise.
"You're very loud for someone so quiet," she said eventually.
"It's a talent," I replied. "People tend to ignore you more when you're slightly irritating. It's a protective mechanism."
"But your core isn't irritating. It's… old. It feels like the roots of the world."
I stopped and turned to her. I wasn't being the cool teacher for a second. I let the grounded, slightly tired tone settle over me.
"Listen, Qiu'er — if that's the name you're using — this is an Academy. We have rules. We have exams. We have very specific ways of doing things that involve not talking about the roots of the world during lunch. If you're here, you're a student. Do you understand?"
She stared at me for a long time. Then she gave a tiny, almost invisible nod. "I am here to understand the movement of energy. I will play the part."
"Great. Let's go meet the target of your curiosity."
We reached the training field just as Huo Yuhao was finishing a set of Suntukan drills. He was moving well, his Silver-Bone foundation giving him a stability that most level 20 students could only dream of. He was drenched in sweat, his breathing rhythmic and controlled. I knew he had already started practicing the Eight-Gate Overdrive in controlled bursts — something only the more advanced students in the advanced tracks were allowed to touch under supervision.
When he saw us, he froze. His Spirit Eyes flickered, and I could see the All-Seeing Library shifting behind his pupils. He recognized her instantly.
"You?" Yuhao said, his voice a mix of shock and something else — a pull he probably didn't understand yet.
"Yuhao, meet your new classmate," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Wang Qiu'er. She's here to study human resonance. I figured you'd be the perfect person to show her the ropes. After all, you're the one who's so good at seeing where things don't fit."
Qiu'er walked right up to him. She didn't stop until she was barely an inch away from his face. She looked at his eyes, her own pink irises glowing faintly.
"You are the one the Sovereign chose," she whispered.
"I… I don't know about that," Yuhao stammered, taking a half-step back. "I'm just… Yuhao."
"You are a book," she said, repeating what she'd felt in the square. "And I want to read you."
I stood back and watched. It was fascinating, in a slightly cruel way. Here was a boy who had been given the All-Seeing Library, a tool designed to find the flaws in the universe. And here was a girl who was the personification of the universe's favor. They were two frequencies that shouldn't be able to mix, yet they were resonating so loudly I could feel it in my teeth.
"Alright, enough with the intense staring. It's getting weird," I interrupted. "Qiu'er, pick up a training spear. Yuhao, get into your stance. We're going to work on Agaw — the takeover. And since our new friend here is a bit… unconventional, I want to see how she handles a human technique."
•••
The next hour was a comedy of errors.
Qiu'er was, quite simply, too good. Every time Yuhao tried to use a technique, she didn't just counter it; she ignored it. He would try to grab her wrist to redirect her momentum, and she would simply… be somewhere else. It wasn't speed. It was as if the world was moving her out of the way before he even made the decision to strike.
"You're not doing it right," she said, looking down at Yuhao after he'd slipped on the grass for the third time.
"I'm doing exactly what the Professor taught me!" Yuhao replied, his face flushed with frustration. "But there's no grip when I touch you! It's like trying to grab a handful of smoke!"
"That's because she's not fighting you, Yuhao," I said from the sidelines, where I was leaning against a weapon rack. "She's just being. You're trying to take over her momentum, but she's not giving you any. She's just a golden rock in a stream. The water moves around the rock. The rock doesn't care."
I walked over and took the training spear from Qiu'er. It was a simple piece of wood, but in her hands, it looked like it could pierce the sky.
"Try it on me," I said to her.
She didn't hesitate. She lunged. It was a beautiful, terrifying movement. There were no wasted motions, no flashy poses. It was just a straight line of gold.
I didn't move until the tip of the spear was an inch from my chest. Then I didn't block. I used Tapyas — the vibration strike. I tapped the side of her spear with my palm, sending a single, sharp pulse of soul power through the wood.
The spear shattered. Not into pieces, but into dust.
Qiu'er stopped, looking at the empty space where the weapon had been.
"You used something wrong," she said, her eyes narrowing.
"No," I replied, adjusting my glasses. "I used a correction. Your presence was too strong for that piece of wood. I just helped the wood realize it couldn't exist anymore. That's the problem with being a rock in a stream, Qiu'er. If the stream is strong enough, it doesn't move around the rock. It grinds the rock into sand."
I looked at both of them. They were staring at me, and for a second, I felt the weight of my own age. I wasn't just a professor. I was someone who had been watching this world for a very long time, and these two were the most interesting pieces currently on the board.
"Yuhao, go hit the showers. You're starting to smell like a wet dog. Qiu'er, go with him to the cafeteria. Try not to break any of the furniture. And for the love of everything, don't tell anyone about the roots of the world. People around here are very sensitive about their gardening."
Yuhao nodded, looking relieved to be away from the intense golden girl for a moment. He started walking toward the dorms, but Qiu'er didn't move right away.
"You're protecting him," she said.
"I'm teaching him," I corrected. "There's a difference."
"He's not ready for what's coming. The noise in the city… it's growing."
"I know," I said, my voice losing its humorous edge. "But that's why I'm here. Now go. I heard the cafeteria is serving something they call mystery stew. It's a great way to test your immune system."
She gave me one last, lingering look before turning and following Yuhao. She didn't walk beside him; she walked a few paces behind, her eyes fixed on the back of his head. She was studying him like a scientist would study a new species.
I watched them go until they were just two figures in the distance. The sun was setting now, casting long orange shadows across the grass. My back was aching, and my left boot gave one final, defiant squeak as I turned to walk back to my office.
But I couldn't help but smile. It was a small, confident grin, the kind that only someone who knew the end of the story could wear.
"Well now," I muttered to the empty field. "Things are definitely getting more interesting. Let's see if the world can handle the next notes."
End of Volume 2, Chapter 62