60th of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd imperial era

"Good day, I am Chaplain Longfang, the head of the Chamber of Runes and a member of the scribes' guild. You must be an extraordinary young man to join outside the admittance period."

Newt half-bowed to Lord Longfang. He was the person whose aura gave off the highest concentration of mana he had seen so far. Newt guessed the lanky man was at the peak of the fifth realm. His face indicated he was in his late thirties, but the sharp gaze with which he dissected Newt revealed a much more advanced age.

"It is an honor to meet you, Sir. I am Newstar Salamandra, an independent member of the guild."

Lord Longfang held Newt's gaze for a moment before nodding in appreciation.

"A natural dualcore, however I must admit I haven't had the pleasure of hearing about your clan."

Newt was confused. The chaplain's tone suggested that he was praising his background, but what was Newt supposed to do? Pretending that he originated from an influential slayer family wouldn't last, but saying his clan had declined felt awkward after the praise.

"My clan is tiny, located at the fringes of the world, it really isn't worth mentioning. I awakened my dualcore by pure chance." Newt smiled awkwardly, but Lord Longfang took it in stride, apparently doubting Newt's words and taking them as false modesty.

"And your being an independent is also an accident?" he said with a friendly smile.

"Well, no. I passed the test with my own ability. However, while I have enough theoretical knowledge, I have only laid down a handful of seals so far, so I wouldn't dare claim any major experience."

Longfang nodded. "It's fairly uncommon for someone to get an independent badge with no practical experience, but not entirely unheard of. If you wish to join the Chamber of Runes, there are several rules and obligations, with corresponding merit. Like in the guild, you are paid for your work, you may purchase materials you personally need at subsidized prices, and you may pay other members for lessons on specific problems you're facing."

Newt noted the word personally, meaning he could not buy materials cheaper and then sell the end product or resell the materials to someone else. While Newt thought about the implications, Lord Longfang kept talking.

"For minor matters, you can try asking seniors with whom you have built a rapport, but I'm afraid you'll have to pay for anything worthwhile. Alternatively, you can become my student. I'm a master scribe, but that comes with apprentice obligations and a future focus on runic formations exclusively. Considering you have only made a handful of seals up to now, it doesn't sound like runes are your primary path, but rather a supporting occupation."

The tall, skinny man looked at Newt, and the youth nodded.

"You are correct, Sir; scribing is just a side occupation to help sharpen my mind and improve my realm sculpting and mental state."

Newt could see a hint of surprise in the chaplain's eyes, and his fake smile became a tad more natural.

"A wise choice. Scribing runes is in many ways like realm shaping itself. You need to read the situation, understand the problem, and then meticulously arrange multiple elements in an intricate pattern to achieve your goal. In this regard, scribing is superior to alchemy and forging, even if it pays less. The advantage granted to you by your mindcore is merely a bonus."

Lord Longfang stared into the distance before focusing once more on Newt.

"I suggest you take your time. We have practice rooms that mimic various terrain features and different mana flows. Lay several hundred basic seals and work your way up from there. Once you have reached the level of proficiency you are satisfied with, head to the library and start perusing the more complex arrays and associated contexts. Our order focuses on treasure hunting, and runic seals are an excellent tool for the job. You needn't join the Chamber to read the books, and while practice rooms are cheaper for Chamber members, regular students may also rent them."

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Newt thanked the chaplain, promised he would work on his scribing skills, and headed out to find the Chamber of Beasts. He followed the paved road, passing building after building. Almost all division complexes consisted of merely the main building, with only the Chamber of Instruction having two large arenas beyond it, and Chamber of Mechanisms sprouting dozens of small hut-like workshops, each with a large warning sign to stay clear.

Soon, Newt reached the wall at the end of the road. To his left stood an administration building with a sign that denoted it as the Chamber of Beasts, while the sign to his right said, "Chamber of Healing".

The fact that they are across the street from each other is obviously accidental, and not an ominous sign or design. And the Chamber of Mechanisms being right next door to the Chamber of Healing is also a pure coincidence.

Newt smirked and checked out the Chamber of Beasts. The main building was identical to all others, purely administrative. While other Chambers had warehouses or small huts and workshops attached, Chamber of Beasts was built right next to the wall, with a massive wooden gate large enough for a thundertitan to pass through unimpeded, which was a silly notion, considering the road was much too small for such a gigantic creature.

Four simple words stood above the massive entrance - 'Danger, do not enter,' Newt read the sign and complied, heading for the administrative building instead. He stepped inside, stealing a glance at the runes at the entrance, identical to the ones at the Chamber of Runes.

Is there a point to identical main buildings?

He paused his step inside the black void, to better see the nearest set of runes. In the corner of his eye, Newt caught the clerk raising his head and begrudgingly walked into the spacious lobby. The runes were beyond him anyway, and he would benefit more by learning them from a book than from a doorway with others watching.

"Greetings!" Newt inclined his head as the outer member looked above the door to check Newt's status. "I am Newstar Salamandra, a new inner student. The sir in charge of taking my information instructed me to come here, and have my ability tested."

Newt was happy he could get his introduction across much more coherently than the first time, but the clerk didn't seem to share his joy.

"Hello Newstar, do you wish to take a test to join our division, or do your interests lie in other fields? Beast-taming is a large commitment, both in terms of time and resources." The disciple, who looked like he was in thirties, older than Lord Longfang, explained with a genuine smile of a person enjoying their work. Newt noticed the book he had been reading, From Hatchling to King, a step-by-step guide to rearing Smallarms.

"Unless you have an obscene amount of wealth, your realm will lag behind your peers, because you will have a companion to feed and push through realms and evolutions. The kinship is its own reward, though, and those loving, giant, saurian eyes will make all your suffering worthwhile. Lives of awakened make for long journeys and companionship eases the strain."

Newt watched the dreamy gaze in the smallarms enthusiast's eyes, and realized that his idea with having multiple snake companions at his realm came with the obligation of paying for the mana they required to evolve. Otherwise, they wouldn't remain relevant to Newt.

I could keep a pair one realm lower than mine, but then they would have to stay away from any battles, and their effects could be reduced. Besides, the scout snake would be too slow, and too easily spotted if I used it to track higher realm opponents.

And what do you mean by loving eyes? Those dead reptilian eyes creep the life out of me.

"Um," Newt tried to recall what the original question was. Right, how dedicated am I? I guess the answer is not a little bit, I don't even have the manarium I need to expand my own realm. "I am uncertain. I need to speak with someone in charge and check how much talent I have?"

"That's great!" the saurian enthusiast said with much more energy than Newt would have expected. "Wait here; I'll go get Lady Woodhopper."

Newt stood there silently as the clerk rushed down the lobby. Newt scanned the room, and while the building itself was identical to the Chamber of Runes, ink paintings replaced glowing runic motifs on the wall and ceiling.

A man rode a spiketail, lightning flashing from the reptile's eyes. A woman wearing a flowing dress sat atop a longneck's head. Newt failed to identify the exact type of saurians; to him they all looked the same, but he guessed that in the Chamber of Beasts, failing to recognize the exact species, gender, and age was probably a faux pas.

The next canvas depicted a man with a strange, wide-brimmed hat riding a smallarm, dark flames rising from the monster's eyes, and opposed to him, a woman sat behind a trihorn's helmet-like carapace. Earth and rocks clung to the trihorn's legs, and the two paintings were positioned in such a way that they looked like they were charging at each other, ready for an epic clash.

Beneath the hanging images were wide, boxy pots full of various grasses. Newt knew they were herbs, and they perfumed the entire room in a sharp smell of pine, but his knowledge of flora was even worse than his knowledge of savage saurians.

"Good day, I am Lady Woodhopper," Newt looked up, surprised by the feminine voice. He nearly took a shocked step back when the white-haired, half-crazed saurian zealot he had expected turned out to be a shapely woman with auburn hair almost the exact same shade as his. The woman, who looked like she was in her early twenties, stood two steps away, staring at him with dazzling emerald-colored eyes and a light smile.

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