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

Newt's heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth, but words failed him, and Lady Woodhopper's smile grew wider.

"You're Newstar, the newest inner student of our order. It's highly irregular for you to join us like this and skip the whole experience and evaluation that comes with being an outer student."

Newt nodded and clamped his mouth shut, feeling blood rush into his cheeks.

I'm a moron. I have to pull myself together. A part of Newt screamed, while another sighed. She's beautiful.

Then, the third, rational thought made itself known. She's a void of mana.

The thought of the woman's, no, the mageknight's high realm immediately snapped Newt back to reality.

"Greetings, Lady Chaplain," he bowed, using the motion to collect himself.

"Yes, I am Newstar Salamandra. Lady… Alabaster," How the hell did I forget the name of my master for a moment? "has taken me as her ward and student. I am here because the old clerk who handled the paperwork for me directly joining the inner order told me I should get tested by you."

Newt's heart was beating embarrassingly quickly; he could feel himself burning as if he had used Magmin Flames without protecting himself with Magmin Scales. He kept a bowing position to put his body under control, but Lady Woodhopper didn't give him the chance.

"At ease. Are you a member of the guild of beast tamers?"

Newt straightened himself. He was reluctant to do it, but he had more or less regained control of his face, even if his tongue didn't really seem to listen to him.

"I'm not. And I don't think I'm a real tamer either. I can only do snakes. I mean, I can make them listen to my commands, or at least more likely to have them listen to me."

Lady Woodhopper gazed at Newt with an amused smirk and a sparkle of interest in her intelligent eyes.

"That sounds intriguing." She touched her thin red lips with a slender, sun-kissed finger. "Let's go to the pens and test your claim."

She spun on her heel, her bare feet slapping the polished, impossibly hard earth from which the building was made. Newt stared at her back, mesmerized for a moment before trotting after her with much less dignity than he would have liked.

"You have no interest in being a beast tamer, do you?" Lady Woodhopper said, her voice just as cheery as it was when she introduced herself.

Newt gulped. "How did you know?"

"It's obvious. You doubted whether you fit the role right from the start. There was no hope in your voice, and you're talking about snakes, which might obey you, as things or tools rather than companions."

Newt could hear a bit of sharpness leak into her voice, a reprimand, and, as expected, her words grew harsher. "I would've just kicked you out, but you are somewhat interesting for a junior. The head administrator sent you here, you joined out of term, skipped a whole step of life in the order, and your snake specialization is out of the ordinary."

She glanced back at Newt, flashing a genuine smile. "Besides, I owe some face to your ancestor. The descendants of slayers rarely join orders outside the ones in which they have achieved their grand feat."

The way Lady Woodhopper said it piqued Newt's curiosity. He finally wondered what was so special about his surname. He knew his ancestor had slain a salamandra, a powerful manabeast, but how was that any different from anyone else going to the wealds and fighting saurians?

"Senior, do you mind if I ask a stupid question?"

"Go ahead, and there are no stupid questions."

"What exactly," Newt hesitated, "is a slayer?"

Lady Woodhopper stopped, spun in a blur, and stared at Newt. The young man shied away, shrinking into himself.

"I mean, I know my ancestor killed a dangerous manabeast—"

"You really don't know what your ancestor killed?"

Newt almost said, "A salamandra," but stopped himself and weakly shook his head instead, having a feeling he was embarrassing his ancestor.

"No offense, but your family has really sunk low if you don't even know this much." The note of pity in Lady Woodhopper's voice landed like a slap. "The honorable slayers are extraordinary individuals who bested a fully evolved manabeast at the same realm in single combat."

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Newt didn't understand how that differed from what he said.

"You don't get it. Do you know what the difference is between fully evolved, evolved, and innate manabeasts? Do you know what the difference is between manabeasts and regular beasts?"

"Manabeasts have mana and realm cores?" Newt said, and Lady Woodhopper's glare felt like another blow.

"What do they teach you kids? How can you have a dualcore and not know things this basic?" Anger seeped into Lady Woodhopper's voice until she suddenly reined it in. "I'm sorry. How old are you? What kind of education did you get?"

"I'll turn seventeen in a bit over one moon, and…" Newt looked down to the ground, preferring not to say he spent three years of his life living in a hole. He was about to say he had a private tutor when Lady Woodhopper sighed.

"Sorry." She still sounded annoyed, obviously putting in effort to still sound polite. "You're very young. Especially for your realm. Follow me; I will explain as we walk."

Lady Woodhopper turned around to hide the twinge of pity and sorrow pulling at her face. She could tell at a glance that Newt had gone through something better left unsaid.

"There are several ways manabeasts can reach the sixth realm, which is the threshold of real power. They can be born at such a high realm, they can evolve from a beast born in a lower realm, they can evolve from a regular beast born with the most basic core, and finally they could have started as regular saurians which had devoured a core somehow. Do you know which is the strongest?"

Newt considered the matter for a moment, but he could only guess, lacking any knowledge on the subject. "The ones born strong?"

"No, that's a common misconception, but it's the exact opposite. The strongest beasts are those who have to start from the lowest point. Lizards, snakes, scuttlers and such harmless critters which were born with the most basic realm core. Their bodies are weak, and they are forced to evolve constantly, looking for an optimal physique to survive. Those who fail perish, while those who succeed have greater cunning and mana control than others, because to reach their realm, they had to devour countless manabeasts, often ones stronger than themselves."

Lady Alabaster stopped before the gate with a warning, and instead of entering, started lecturing Newt.

"Most dreadwalkers are born without a core, but thanks to their overwhelming strength, most if not all devour a manabeast at some point in their lives, becoming ones themselves. A dreadwalker without a core is equivalent in strength to most fifth realm manabeasts, and before their core evolves to that realm, they dominate absolutely everything. They are overlords of their territories, but without exception, they all perish at the sixth realm. The only thing they know is to rely on their absolutely terrifying bodies and have no experience using the rest of their powers, making them easy meals for other sixth realm manabeasts. Do you understand how this scenario applies to all saurians?"

Newt nodded. "It comes down to skill and mana proficiency, and those who had to overcome physical disadvantages will have a skill advantage. But why aren't all higher realm manabeasts those evolved from the lower realm ones?"

Lady Alabaster smiled and answered. "The theory is that once upon a time all saurians used to be lizards, snakes, and turtles, everything we now see are descendants of those original manabeasts and their evolutions. As for why not all higher realm manabeasts are former critters, the answer is simple. There's a lot of competition; they start with an innate disadvantage, and most of them don't even reach the second realm. Plus, there's the matter of lifespan and heaven's wrath. Manabeasts born at a higher realm have more time to evolve, since they are skipping the early stages. I guess nature has it covered."

She flashed another smile. "But you need to know that those critters that reach the top are absolutely terrifying, and most tenth realm manabeasts have started as harmless little things. While each heaven's wrath is a near-death-sentence, they also empower the survivors, and if a manabeast is born at the seventh realm, they are at a huge disadvantage already, since they had missed two chances to grow stronger and reforge their body."

Newt nodded. He had heard of heaven's wrath, a challenge issued by the heavens upon breaking through to each realm beyond the fifth. He didn't know exactly what they entailed, but in the legends about his ancestors, they were described as pillars of flame descending from the heavens to burn those unworthy and bless the worthy.

"Because of all of this, manabeasts with humble origins can usually crush everyone in their realm, and even fight those at a higher realm, or at least escape from them. Thanks to this, they live deep in the wealds, hoarding the best resources, occupying the richest manarium veins, and slaying challengers on a regular basis."

Lady Woodhopper, glanced back and saw Newt properly awed.

"Do you now understand why I respect your ancestor? Why every human with a shred of honor would respect them?"

Newt nodded, then his gaze turned hollow. Strangers respected his family, their tradition, and the meaning of their name, yet what did his uncle do with it? Nearly ruined their family, extinguishing all memory of such a dazzling figure of his generation. But one thing made no sense.

"Why would anyone ever hunt such a dangerous creature by themselves?"

"To challenge themselves? To resolve a heart demon, to prove their bravery and wash away slander, to woo someone above their station. The reasons are countless, like reasons for everything humans do, like reasons for pushing your realm further. The point is that few dare try, and nearly everyone fails. Even returning alive and maimed from such a venture is a rare glory and something people brag about, let alone achieving the feat."

Newt walked in silence, considering everything he heard, and found a problem with the logic.

"I have another question. Why don't higher realm awakened strike down these fully evolved manabeasts?"

Lady Woodhopper burst into laughter. "You really know nothing. Go into the library and read. You need education more than you need to advance your realm, but I will humor you. In the long history of our empire, whenever anyone had that bright idea, the world was drenched in blood. Such action always sparked what is commonly known as a saurian onslaught, which is in reality the ripples of violence as higher realm manabeasts came to answer the challenge to their authority. Fully evolved eighth realm manabeasts are as strong as ninth realm, ninths as tenth, tenth as the impossible eleventh."

Lady Woodhopper paused to lend gravity to her words. "Once, a fully evolved tenth realm manabeast left the wealds. The third emperor, our only combatant capable of fighting it, gave his life to slay it, their battle reshaping the terrain for hundreds of thousands of miles around turning it into a wasteland."

Newt gulped. He knew of a tenth realm, fully evolved manabeast. He carried its remnants in his realm.

So, for some reason, Magmin had left his jungle, came into the human lands and started an annihilation which ended with mutual destruction of Magmin and humanity's greatest warrior.

He knew he really should not ask, but the pull, the itch he felt, tugged at his tongue.

"What kind of manabeast was it?" he said, his heart racing.

"A gigantic terrorwing of ice and wind, the records label it as the Cloud Monarch, but the accounts are so ancient, there are hardly any living humans who remember the incident."

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