Month 2!

Week 1!

Day 1 - 3 Classes(Guncasting, Gunsmithing, Magic Ballistics)

Day 2 - 3 Mentor Training(Body, Mind, Spirit)

Day 3 - 3 Extracurricular Activities(Librarians, Basement Court, Union of Oppressed)

Day 4 - 1 Gunslinger Assembly Gun Gallery Auction

Day 5 - 2 Gearing-Up(Shopping & Crafting) - Student Market & Ammo

Day 6 - 3 Familiar Bonding(Recovery, Training, Sparing)

Day 7 - 3 Rest & Meditate(Recovery, Level, Magic)

Week 2!

Day 1 - 3 Classes(Guncasting, Gunsmithing, Magic Ballistics)

Day 2 - 3 Mentor Training(Body, Mind, Spirit)

Day 3 - 3 Extracurricular Activities(Librarians, Basement Court, Union of Oppressed)

Day 4 - 2 Arcane Entrepreneurship(Idea & Selling) - Idea & Stall

Day 5 - 1 Forbidden Knowledge Broker

Day 6 - 3 Familiar Bonding(Recovery, Training, Sparing)

Day 7 - 3 Rest & Meditate(Recovery, Level, Magic)

Week 3!

Day 1 - 3 Classes(Guncasting, Gunsmithing, Magic Ballistics)

Day 2 - 3 Mentor Training(Body, Mind, Spirit)

Day 3 - 3 Extracurricular Activities(Librarians, Basement Court, Union of Oppressed)

Day 4 - 2 Socialize(Dorms & Seraphyne) - Raid Prep & Hunting Prep

Day 5 - 1 Contract with Nytheris

Day 6 - 3 Familiar Bonding(Recovery, Training, Sparing)

Day 7 - 3 Rest & Meditate(Recovery, Level, Magic)

Week 4!

Day 1 - 3 Classes(Guncasting, Gunsmithing, Magic Ballistics)

Day 2 - 3 Mentor Training(Body, Mind, Spirit)

Day 3 - 3 Extracurricular Activities(Librarians, Basement Court, Union of Oppressed)

Day 4 - 2 Research(Magic Evolution & Great Gunslingers) - Grand Library

Day 5 - Academy Mission

Day 6 - 3 Familiar Bonding(Recovery, Training, Sparing)

Day 7 - 3 Rest & Meditate(Recovery, Level, Magic)

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Day 1 – Classes Guncasting | Gunsmithing | Magic Ballistics Joshua was back in class, his badge thrumming faintly with reminders and rune pings, but his attention was sharper than ever. Midterms were a month away, and already the hallways buzzed with tension—spell flashes behind closed practice doors, the faint tang of ozone from misfired incantations, whispered duels and midnight cramming rituals. But Joshua wasn't cramming. He was refining.

Guncasting drills focused on multi-threaded reinforcement techniques—weaving magic mid-recoil. Gunsmithing saw him assemble a low-velocity, anti-spectral round, while Ballistics theory delved into trajectory-folding, a technique used in bullet bending across planar interference.

Once class was over, Joshua was still packing up when he heard the low scrape of boots on mana-charred stone. Cassian Varn stood behind him, arms crossed, gaze smoldering beneath that obsidian-rimmed brow. "Of all my students, you have shown the most promise so far, I'm wasting your time if I keep treating you like a standard cadet."

Varn reached into the long inner pocket of his trench-coat and pulled out a small, flat relic-bullet carved with dimensional runes. It shimmered faintly, phasing between visible states—like it didn't quite belong here. "This is the mark of my personal spell. You've earned the right to learn it. Its call the Dimensional Shot."

Study the bullet when you get the chance to learn the Dimensional Shot spell.

Dimensional Shot: Can fire projectiles that tear through the very fabric of space-time. These shots are capable of phasing through obstacles or targets, making them ideal for bypassing shields, walls, or physical barriers.

Roll for Class Progress[1d8(Talent) +1 Instructor Bonus + 1 Day Bonus +1 Relationship Bonus]

Rolled 9. Arcane Gunsmithing - Class Progress 42/100 → 51/100

Roll for Class Progress[1d8(Talent) +1 Instructor Bonus + 1 Day Bonus +2 Relationship Bonus]

Rolled 11. Magical Ballistics - Class Progress 39/100 → 50/100

Hit 40 Threshold! Learned New Spell! Kinetic Reservoir: Absorb recoil and movement into a stored reservoir of force. This stored momentum can be discharged to amplify the caster's next shot, empower body, or amplify physical strikes — enabling burst movement, enhanced bullet penetration, or sudden surges.

Roll for Class Progress[1d8(Talent) +1 Instructor Bonus + 1 Day Bonus +2 Relationship Bonus]

Rolled 8. Guncaster Fundamentals - Class Progress 26/100 → 34/100

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Day 2 – Mentor Training Body | Mind | Spirit Under GunSage Felgrim's gaze, the training plateau pulsed with heat in the Magic Tower of the Last Horizon. On this ancient dueling ground, nothing was ornamental. Every mark on the floor was a scar. Every scorch told a story. And standing in the center like a statue carved from stormcloud and gunmetal, was GunSage Felgrim Saruman—cloak flared, six orbiting pistols slow-spinning like moons caught in dragfire.

Body: A trial of endurance—dodging mana-ignited scattershots on unstable terrain.

The terrain shifted beneath Joshua's boots—platforms rising and falling on arcane pistons. Crystal pylons flared to life and began firing mana-ignited scattershots in erratic patterns. No cover. No rhythm. No mercy. Joshua moved—ducked, rolled, slid between blasts. His coat caught fire once. He didn't stop.

Felgrim watched, arms folded. At the final stretch, the ground gave way beneath Joshua. He twisted mid-air, using the recoil of his practice pistol to vault himself onto a collapsing platform. His landing was rough. But standing. "Not pretty," Felgrim muttered. "But you stayed standing. That's a gunfighter's law."

Mind: Tactical simulation—how to take down a duelist in ten seconds or less.

Next came the mind trial—a conjured illusion chamber surged to life, wrapping Joshua in projected battlefield noise. Target: Duelist-class opponent. Disarm or eliminate. Ten seconds.

An ethereal figure emerged: lean, fast, reactive. It mirrored Joshua's own stance—a shadow of his worst habits. Joshua analyzed: stance, tempo, left-foot dominance, breathing rate. He fired a decoy shot—deliberately wide. The illusion dodged, exposing the torso. The second shot was real. Eight seconds. "Calculated," Felgrim said. "Tactical misdirection. That'll serve you better than firepower when you're outnumbered."

Spirit: Precision focus—letting your senses guide you to shoot through falling leaves at 60ft.

A grove unfolded around him—real, not illusory. An artificial wind stirred the branches. Leaves fell like golden ash. "Hit the red ones. Miss the others. No aim—just feel it." Joshua closed his eyes. No sights. No stance. Just breath.

He inhaled—focus. Felt the pulse of mana threading through the air. Heard the rustle, the shift, the bend of wind. And fired. Once. Twice. Thrice. Red leaves split in midair. Green leaves drifted untouched. Felgrim was silent for a long moment. Felgrim gave him a nod. "You're not fast enough yet. But you're getting there."

"Thank you, master," Joshua bowed and was about to head off before his mentor called him.

"I noticed you don't have a weapon, here," he said, tossing him an invite.

"What is it?" Joshua asked, catching and turning it around in his hand.

"Its a Auction for the Gunslinger Assembly, see if anything catches your eye! Here is some pocket money," he added. Tossing him a bag.

+10,000 Mana Stones

"Thank you, master," Joshua bowed once more. He had quite a bit of wealth, but more was always welcomed, and he was grateful for his mentor to support him.

Roll 1d4+1(incense)+1(day)+3(mentor)+3(Eternal Crownshadow Mediation)+1(relationship)

Rolled 12. Spirit 4 Stat Progress 37/40 → Spirit 5 9/50

Spirit is 5 now! Roll 1d5 for Mana Pool Gain!

Rolled 4. Mana 13/13

Roll 1d7+1(gav ball)+3(mentor)+1(day)+3(Everlasting Imperial Breath)+1(relationship)

Rolled 13. Body 7 - Stat Progress 14/70 → 27/70

Roll 1d5+1(needle)+3(mentor)+1(day)+3(Throne-Void Stance)+1(relationship)

Rolled 13. Mind 5 - Stat Progress 26/50 → 39/50

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Day 3 – Extracurriculars Librarians | Basement Court | Union of the Oppressed

Librarians(Wayfinder's Compass)

The vault map was ancient—half-singed, half-phased into a forgotten parchment fold. It took three translators, an hour of silence, and a shot of focus-brew to even begin parsing its glyph-chains.

Joshua leaned over the map, running his thumb across a jagged ink fracture. It pulsed faintly, reacting to his Reinforcement aura. Three red threads converged across space, time, and leyline interference. At their center: a name etched in rusted gold ink. Archivist Noctis.

+1 Skill Progress Dimensional Cartographer 1(1/3): +1 Bonus to mapping and traversing different terrains in different worlds, dimensions, realms.

Basement Court:

A dozen first-years gathered beneath the low arches of the Court's hidden sanctum—most of them looked hungry, not for food, but for purpose. Their badges were dim, their dorms barely above storage closets. But here, beneath cracked stone and flickering braziers, they stood taller. Recruits Gained: 5 Bronze, students with sharp eyes and sharper tempers. 3 Copper, scrappy spellcasters, eager but untrained. 2 Iron, wide-eyed but willing to follow Joshua's lead.

Together, they uncovered a half-buried annex: Chrono-Hall—a sealed time-loop corridor once used to train battle mages under accelerated cycles. The glyph-locked doors responded to their badges... and to something in Joshua's pulse. "We don't have to take power the old way," he said, standing on the threshold. "We build. We reclaim. We remember what they want forgotten." The Court is rising.+10 new members(first-year): 2 iron, 3 copper, 5 bronze! Found new territory; Chrono-Hall

Union of the Oppressed: Familiar Liberation & Rebinding Training:

Tonight's session wasn't just about theory—it was about breaking chains. Joshua sat in a circle of candlelight with other Union members, listening to a spirit-bonded shaman named Maeli as she whispered the tenets of Familiar Rebinding: Listen before commanding. Touch their soul, not their leash. If it fears you, you have failed. The ritual demonstration was raw—watching a soul-contract unravel from a battered elemental hound, it ran from its former master who used to use it test its experiments on.

Skill Gained! Familiar Liberation 1(0/3): Learn to communicate with bound familiars, break soul-contracts, and reforge new bonds based on consent, balance, and mutual power.

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Day 4 – Gunslinger Assembly: Gun Gallery Auction

Location: Vaulted Grand Gun Gallery, Academy Upper Spire

*Invite Only – Courtesy of GunSage Felgrim Saruman

The elevator that took him there didn't exist on any floorplan. When Joshua stepped off the moving platform and into the Gun Gallery, he felt like he had entered a cathedral built for bullets. The chamber was vast, echoing with the weight of history. Walls of aged obsidian and glass shimmered with residual enchantments. Overhead, suspended by rotating arcane gyros, floated dozens of sealed display capsules—each housing a gun that had changed a world, or nearly ended it.

This was no school-run event. This was an Gunslinger Assembly auction. The Gunslinger Assembly was made up of gunmages, ballistic savants, gunsmiths, artillery witches, bullet wizards, arcane gunslingers, wand-breakers, recoil poets, and more. They were the keepers of lost firearms, the archivists of gun-magic theory, the regulators of weaponized spellcraft across dimensions.

The air in the Grand Gallery shimmered with enchantments, soft orchestral music wafting through illusory string quartets suspended midair. Velvet-draped auction blocks gleamed beneath radiant mana-lamps. Joshua wasn't the only one here to buy today. Students, faculty, rogue collectors, and even a few masked alumni in great robes and sashes filtered through the rows of enchanted seating.

This was no casual affair. The Gunslinger Assembly Auction was the premier quarterly event where fantastical gun parts, prototype spell-ammo, cursed barrels, forgotten holsters of history, and legendary firearms went up for bid.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1337074889482281/

He entered in his cleanest coat, badge polished, with his hair swept back and his mana signature freshly stabilized. Eyes followed him—some curious, some envious. The "tournament shot" still echoed in the halls of the academy, and whispers followed him like sparks. At the door, he received a catalog and a rune-etched clicker for bidding. His balance was… respectable, but the prices for these weapons and other items were wild.

A couple weapons drew his attention;

Babel Spitter: A wide-muzzled scattergun that fires sentences instead of shells. Used by a prophet-mage in a war against silence. Tonguebreaker(Passive): May disrupt spellcasting. Etymologic Ruin(Ability): Shoots ancient, cursed words—can fracture magic structure or reveal hidden truths on hit.

The Lanternbane: A torch-gun. Emits holy fire instead of bullets. Favored by hunters of curses. Ghostlight(Passive) - Gun glows showing hidden details. Exorcist's Roar(Ability) - Fires flame that burns away enchantments, illusions, and spirits.

Coffinmaker: Gravemark(Passive) - Unable to heal when hit.

Dreaming Revolver: Sleepshot Sync(Passive) - Each shot weakens reality slightly, allowing glimpses into alternate timelines. Grants insight. Lucid Shot (Ability) Summons a version of yourself from a parallel timeline to aid you.

Lawbringer: Verdict Gauge(Passive) When drawing this gun with full moral conviction, it gains accuracy, damage. Echo of Judgment(Ability): Bring about the hammer of justice!

Share your idea for which weapon to buy!

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As the last echo of orchestral strings dissolved into the ether, the first auctioneer stepped onto the floating dais. He wore a long coat of rune-threaded velvet, stitched with firing glyphs and House emblems from a dozen dead gunlines. His voice carried not through sound, but through arcane resonance—his words etched directly into the minds of the audience in elegant, searing clarity. "Welcome, assembled duelists, scholars, collectors, enchanters, witnesses of legacy… The Auction now begins."

The lights dimmed. The mana-field above shimmered and condensed into a slowly rotating array of display cases—each one containing a weapon too dangerous, too storied, or too unstable to be left in the open world. Joshua could feel them before he could see them. Like stars behind curtains, humming with gravity.

Babel Spitter – The Scattergun of Sentences. The first case unfolded in a triple-layered sigil matrix, revealing a wide-muzzled weapon seemingly forged from rusted scripture and polished sermon wood. Runes crawled across its surface like ants made of grammar. "Once used by the Prophet-Mage Yulan during the War of Silence."

"This gun does not shoot shells—it speaks. Every blast is a sentence of arcane power, cursing sound itself or fracturing linguistic spells." Bidder: A blindfolded Yuan-ti with whispering scrolls wrapped around her arms. Final Price: 13,000 mana stones

Lanternbane – Torch-Gun of the Cursed Hunt. A flare of consecrated flame lit the platform. The gun looked more like a lantern fused with a revolver, burning with radiant fire that left behind no shadows. "Blessed by twelve flame orders, this weapon burns illusions, curses, and spirits. No lie survives its flame." Bidder: A solemn warpriest whose hands bore tattooed scripture from a fallen pantheon. Final Price: A saint's bone.

Coffinmaker – The Burying Shot This one arrived draped in black silk and funereal chants. A long-barrel rifle of silent wood and stonebone iron. When it was unveiled, several seats went cold. "Last fired to kill a false god. The bullet buried itself not in the heart—but in the name."

"Once loaded, the gun whispers to the dead." Bidder: A revenant draped in ceremonial bindings, trailed by silence and a scent of grave-dust. Final Price: Location of a forgotten city to the Gunslinger Assembly.

Dreaming Revolver – Shoots Memories, Not Bullets The case shimmered, revealing a sleek revolver suspended in liquid starlight. No cylinder, just six memory capsules orbiting like moons. "The Dreaming Revolver doesn't kill. It extracts the dream most tied to guilt or glory—and fires it at the target."

Bidder: A sleeping girl, face serene, floating in a stasis shell guided by lucid guardians. She never woke. But her subconscious made perfect bids. Final Price: 12,000 mana stones.

And then… came The Duelist's Bane the Highlight of the Auction. Everything stopped. The room cooled by ten degrees. The Orchestra vanished. In total silence, a black holster floated onto the center dais. Inside: a simple revolver. Gunmetal gray. Clockwork runes ticking backward across its barrel. When revealed, the air around it fractured like glass held under pressure. "This is The Duelist's Bane."

The auctioneer spoke slowly. Like reverence. "This gun does not shoot first. It shoots before. The bullet travels back in time to the moment your opponent commits to draw. Often, they don't even realize they've lost until they're already dying."

The air trembled. Students leaned forward. Veterans stood. Rival collectors whispered oaths. Someone in the back wept softly. The silence was so complete, you could hear the crackling of wardfields reacting to the revolver's paradoxical aura. "Opening bid," said the auctioneer, his voice dimly echoing like it traveled through centuries, "—5,000 mana stones."

A hand rose immediately. Draped in silks that shifted color with the air—an aristocrat from the Heliarchic Courts, known for dueling to resolve political marriages. "6," she called. Next, a hushed gesture from a man in a platinum half-mask, his chair surrounded by advisors taking magical dictation. A Spell-Patent Executive from one of the interdimensional gun guilds. "7."

Then— "8," said a psionically-linked pair of twins wearing mirrored coats. They raised their bid in complete silence, heads tilting in opposite directions. Joshua gripped the rune-clicker in his palm, thumb hovering and clicked it. "9,000."

Murmurs rolled through the gallery. "That's the one—tournament kid. The wild shot. Didn't think he had the stones." The bids climbed. Fast. 10. The twins again. 11. The masked executive. 12. A silent elder dressed in dust and iron. "13," Joshua said aloud this time, his voice firm.

Someone laughed. A new challenger entered. A figure stepped forward from the third tier. Cloaked in a stitched flag made of dueling sashes. A hat shadowed half their face, the other half masked in duelist's lace. Around their neck: a badge etched with a reversed bullet wound. No name was spoken. "15," they said. Their voice echoed not in sound—but in recoil.

The room shifted. Magic groaned. Joshua's hand trembled. The badge on his chest flared with low heat. He thought of Vesperrex, still comatose after the Star-Champion fight. He thought of the star-throne from his meditation, crumbling above the battlefield. He thought of his own hand, hovering over a holster—not yet drawn, but already committed. And then, like it was the only number that ever existed, he said: "16."

Silence. The stitched-flag duelist tilted their head. They didn't raise. They bowed slightly—and sat down. A heartbeat passed. "Sold," the auctioneer said, his voice rich with finality, "To Initiate Joshua M. Kane of the Redhook Linehouse, student of Felgrim, bearer of the impossible shot, claimant of the Duelist's Bane."

Cheers broke like a thundercrack—students, rogues, even a few Assembly members clapping. Not out of politeness—but respect. Admiration. And just a bit of fear. As the weapon hovered toward him, seals unraveled midair. The holster floated onto his belt with a gentle click. The revolver, cold as judgment, landed in his grip.

He saw nothing. He saw everything. A hundred duels reversed in time. A thousand holsters never drawn. A million bullets suspended at the edge of fate. The barrel ticked backward. His magic pulse synced with it. The Duelist's Bane was his now.

New Weapon Gained!

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/16677461115852619/

The Duelist's Bane: +3 to damage

Retroactive Kill(Passive) - First shot in a fight fire backwards through time! When the wielder mentally commits to a shot, the bullet lands at that exact moment—before the weapon is drawn or the trigger pulled.

Chrono-Loop Execution(Ability): Can lock a single target into a localized time loop. For 3 real-time seconds, that moment repeats endlessly — a high-speed standoff. Within this loop, both participants may act — but only the wielder retains full awareness and memory across resets. When the loop ends, the wielder chooses which timeline finalizes — preserving only one shot, one outcome.

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Day 6 - Familiar Bonding(Recovery);The Grand Familiarium, Sanctuary of Bond & Beasts

Vesperrex hadn't stirred in days. His breathing came slow and distant, like a creature suspended between dimensions. Ever since the battle in the Star-Cradle against the Champion of Constellations, the fabled creature had fallen into a deep, unnatural coma. Joshua wasn't going to wait for miracles. He gathered what supplies he could. Packed the emergency pulse stabilizers. Slung Vesperrex, still sealed in a silver-threaded cloak, across his back. He took the train, then a gate, then climbed through a fog of whispering feathers and spectral ash—until he reached the Grand Familiarium.

It was a sacred sprawl nestled beyond the boundaries of mapped reality in the school, where ley lines curled like sleeping serpents and old magics breathed freely. Before him unfolded a living sanctuary: Towering mountains wrapped in veils of dream-smoke, their peaks crowned with shrines to the first familiars. Bioluminescent valleys pulsed with gentle rhythms, as if the land itself had a heartbeat. Isles drifted midair, cradling habitats for sky-bound companions—some shaped like colossal birds' nests, others rimmed with floating coral and starglass reefs.

At the base of the valley lay a series of mirrored lakes, their surfaces so still they reflected not just the sky, but the souls of those who approached. Familiars—bound and wild, juvenile and ancient—gathered at their shores in reverent silence, guided by instinct to heal and to remember.

Spirits of extinct beasts flickered through the glades like colossal, antlered elk from the Iceborn Age or thunder-lions hunted to near end. Elementals danced in ritualized storm patterns above thundercliffs. Above were cosmic creatures glowing with soft aurora-light in constellations that didn't exist in any known firmament. Elsewhere, infernal beasts roamed curated fields of sulfur and cooled magma.

While celestial creatures soared and roamed the land leaving blessings behind wherever they passed. There were even stranger creatures like dimensional beasts of varying geometric shapes, eldritch-touched things that defied language—some existing only as sensations, others as negative space given hunger and form. And woven through it all was an impossible serenity—a harmony so deep it made Joshua forget, for a breath, that the world beyond even existed.

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ywDby90jp-Q/hq720.jpg?sqp=-oaymwEhCK4FEIIDSFryq4qpAxMIARUAAAAAGAElAADIQj0AgKJD&rs=AOn4CLDTT8RbRfxhii3RZmAA_O7LzLEDvg

He passed through the Living Gates, titanic doors grown—not built—from Worldwood, an ancient tree that once grew between dimensions. Its bark still pulsed faintly with breathlike rhythms, as if aware of who crossed its threshold. Guarding either side were towering statues of extinct familiars—crafted not from stone, but from preserved memory and condensed sorrow. They were in varying poses and positions; some were weeping, roaring, or howling in eternal stillness.

Inside, the terrain shifted with purpose: Verdant plateaus where elemental creatures soaked in mana geysers. Gravity-loops where sky creatures wove through cloud-threaded rings. Soul gardens, quiet places where spectral familiars floated over pools of starlight, dreaming without decay. And a thousand more ecosystems, woven together by planar druids, pact-bound sages, and Vet-Mages trained in soul-echo repair and interspecies empathy.

Above it all, the And above all, at the center of this ever-shifting sanctum, pulsed the Sanctuary's Heart: A colossal Aurora Tree, so vast its canopy shimmered across planes. Its leaves were prisms of color that no single eye could interpret alone, whispering in ancient tongues—some elvish, some elemental, some too old for species. Each root extended into a different ecosystem, binding the land into a single organism of care.

As Joshua stepped deeper into this sacred reserve, the very air changed. Not just richer. Not just more magical. But more alive. He wasn't in a clinic. He was in a cathedral for bonds beyond language— A temple of kinship carved out of myth and memory.

Tucked into a hidden fold between stabilized planar strata, the Hollow was a living, breathing ecosystem designed to nurture chimeric life—creatures born of multiple bloodlines, forged through alchemical whim, warped evolution, or ritual fusion. It was a place where the unnatural was sacred, and the unstable were treated not as errors, but as miracles still unfolding.

Joshua passed through its threshold with Vesperrex slung across his back—his familiar's form glitching slightly, scales flickering between his much more majestic grander version and his pup. The entry arch rippled with sympathetic resonance magic, identifying and adapting to the tangled bloodline signatures of its guests.

Inside, the Hollow was a sanctuary of contradictions made whole: Lakes of shifting bioplasm glowed with dormant gene-scripts, used to recalibrate bodily matrices for creatures losing coherence. Archive of Breaths, extinct or forbidden species' breath-patterns were preserved and sometimes loaned for resuscitation.

Vesperrex was not a standard familiar here—he was dangerous even by chimeric standards. Suture-Kin, the overseer of this place met them again at the Hollow's deepest chamber—an old vet-mage shaped like folded parchment and glowing threads. Their eyes held entire bestiaries.

"Your familiar tried to become what it was never meant to be yet. True forms are for True Beasts. It used the echo of a future self not yet earned, powered by fragments of its ancestral blood from its great lineage. His body rebelled. His soul stalled. But he is not lost."

Suture-Kin led them to the Stabilization Amphitheater, where creatures were lowered into the Cradle Matrix—a hollow woven from heartroots of Yggra Trees and tethered to a moonstone lattice above. As Vesperrex's body was placed into the Cradle, the atmosphere shifted—gravity softened, light thickened, and time bent inward. A choir of composite familiars gathered in respectful silence: a serpent-wolf with lanterns for eyes; a mechanical raven stitched with hydra feathers; a horned bat-drake radiating both fire and ice.

The lattice hummed. Vesperrex stirred. The ancestral echo that had driven him to madness now glowed with control. His body, once spasming under the weight of borrowed legacy, calmed. His aura—wild, chaotic—threaded into something more deliberate. The first note of his true path had been struck.

"Hey, buddy," Joshua rubbed the small creature's head as he woke up. "Its good to see you awake!"

Roll for recover! 1d7

1- Very bad(goes further into coma) 2- Subpar(no recovery) 3- Okay(will awake within a month) 4- Good(will awake right now) 5- Great(will awake advanced) 6- Amazing(will strengthen bond further) 7-Fantastic(able to use true form freely)

Rolled 6! Vesperrex is now Tier 1. He has lit the spark leading to his Path.

Familiar Bond Strengthen! +1 Bond Meter Vesperrex Bond - Bond with Vesperrex: 1(0/3)

+100 Magic Evolution Progress

New Magic Evolution Research Progress (237/1,000)

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Day 7 – Rest & Meditate (Recovery, Level, Magic)

Joshua took his body—battered by battle, strained by grief—to the Mineral Baths of the Last Horizon, a place suspended atop his master Felgrim's Tower. The waters shimmered with molten gold veins and sapphire steam, drawn from the World Vein, an ancient pulse of magic running beneath the tower.

He slid into the spring. The water was warm—but it beat like a living thing, syncing to his heart, then his breath, then his magic. He felt himself stretch, ripple, dissolve, until it was just sensation and pulse. In that stillness, he turned inward.

Current Stress 4/10 - 9(classes)= -5/10

Stress Recovery: 1d5+1 Tower Bonus+1 Day Bonus+3 Mentor Bonus+1 Relationship

Rolled 7. New 2/10

Meditation — Path of Ruined Thrones

After his bath, Joshua headed to one of his master's meditation chambers. Taking a seat, he took a deep breath in and began to meditate. Using his visualization technique the Ruined Thrones. He visualized a great battlefield under a dead sky. In its center: a throne shattered in half, broken by time and truth. Around it, spectral kings knelt in chains, wearing crowns of ash. His path was not ascension—but deconstruction. Not to rule—but to unbury the past and reclaim it.

As he approached the throne in his vision, it collapsed. From the rubble, a new path unfolded—a spiral staircase of starlight, each etched with the names of the fallen Star-Eaters that came before. His power did not come from victory, but from those who lost and fallen. Finally he reached the throne of Stars and took a seat, not as a conqueror, but as someone who has inherited the weight of a broken legacy. The whispers of the throne urge him to remember the lessons of the fallen, and Joshua envisions himself imprinting the essence of those rulers onto his own soul. Each lesson he learns, each whisper he hears, makes him stronger.

Current Circle(Level) 0 - 0/10

Level Progress: 1d7(cultivation rank) +3 Technique(Ruined Thrones)+1 Tower Bonus+1 Day Bonus+3 Mentor Bonus+1 Relationship

Rolled 15. New Circle(Level) 1 - 5/100

As Joshua sat in stillness atop the broken throne in his vision—surrounded by ash crowns, chained specters, and the cold battlefield of forgotten rulers—he felt the stars press down upon him. In that moment, something gave way. A circuit opened.

It wasn't a spell, nor a rite, nor even an act of will. It was a response—from his very soul—to the inheritance he had chosen. A sudden current of mana surged through him, threading through invisible lines in his body: from spine to fingertips, from lungs to marrow, from mind to soul. Not like heat or fire, but like truth—raw and merciless.

This was no gift. It was a burden, shaped into fuel. He cried out—but only in spirit. His body remained still in his master's meditation chamber, legs folded, brow calm. But inside him, something caught fire. A spark lit the forge of his being.

He had opened his first circuit—a metaphysical channel that allowed mana to flow with purpose instead of chaos. The foundation of all practitioners. Before this, he had scraped magic from the surface of his being. Now, it answered him from deep within him. It resonated. It saw him. Circle 1 – Spark.

As the vision collapsed, the broken throne melted into starlight. Joshua opened his eyes in the chamber and they glowed an ethereal light. The world had changed all around him. His vision sharpened. Not just clearer—but deeper. The lines of magic that ran beneath the room—the faded sigils in the stone, the residual aura in the air, the low hum of the tower's enchantments—all revealed themselves to him like a map inked in silver light.

True Sight had awoken. This was the gift that opening his first circuit granted him. It was the ocular ability that allows a practitioner to perceive the truth beneath reality and to see magic truly in all its glory!

Training — Reinforcement Magic

In the stillness, he focused on the pulse of Reinforcement Magic flowing through his limbs. Not just to make things stronger. But to restore what was cracked. To amplify what already exists. To endure the cost of walking a road no one else could. He imagined his body a Ruined Frame – The more broken the object, the stronger it becomes when reinforced. Perfect bodies were weak. But shattered ones could be made eternal.

By the time he stepped from the tower, his body had broken and rehealed numerous times each time letting his magic do its work reinforcing it to be stronger and body just as the old war golem used to do. But more importantly—his conviction had hardened. He was no longer just preparing for the next duel. He was preparing to reclaim what even the stars had tried to steal.

Current Reinforcement Magic Early 1-✩: 36/1,000

Magic(Affinity) Progress 1d4(Magic)+2 Bracer +1 Day Bonus +1 Tower+3 Mentor Bonus+1 Relationship

Rolled 13. New Reinforcement Magic Early 1-✩: 49/1,000

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