The Academy had a library. Not the small, dusty annex where Norman conducted his research, it is the main library.
A massive structure three stories tall, filled with thousands of volumes on military history, strategy, magical theory, and martial techniques.
Robin discovered it during his second week. Found it during a rare hour of free time between training sessions.
The entrance was imposing. Stone archways carved with scenes of famous battles. Heavy oak doors that stood open during daylight hours.
Inside was a cathedral of knowledge. Shelves stretched to the ceiling. Ladders on rails allowed access to higher levels. The smell of old paper and leather bindings filled the air.
Students were scattered throughout, mostly upper-class members studying tactics or magical theory. A few commoners from Class D huddled over basic military manuals.
No one from Class F. The bottom tier students typically avoided the library. Too tired from training. Too focused on basic survival.
Robin established a pattern. After evening training but before midnight sessions with Norman, he'd spend an hour in the library.
He avoided the popular sections. The military history that every student studied. The tactical theory that instructors assigned.
Instead, he gravitated toward the restricted areas. The older texts. The forgotten knowledge that gathered dust because it was considered outdated or impractical.
But nothing is truly useless. Every scrap of knowledge has value if you know how to apply it.
He found texts on ancient warfare tactics. Pre-Void fighting styles. Techniques developed before mana enhancement became the standard.
This. This is what I need.
These older methods assumed fighters had limited or no magical enhancement. Relied on pure technique, positioning, leverage. Exactly what Class F needed.
Robin read everything. His enhanced perception let him read faster than normal. His perfect recall a gift from both the system and Justin's experience meant he remembered every detail.
Night after night, he built a mental library. Tactics. Techniques. Historical battles and their lessons.
He was in the restricted section on his fifth visit when he realized he wasn't alone.
Robin didn't react visibly. Just continued reading. But his enhanced perception mapped the room.
There. In the shadows between shelves. Someone was there.
How long have they been there?
Robin turned a page. Casual. Gave no indication he'd noticed.
The person moved with quiet footsteps.
Norman emerged from the shadows. His golden eyes caught the dim light from reading lamps.
"You come here every night," Norman said quietly.
"You've been following me."
"Observing. There's a difference." Norman gestured to the ancient text Robin was reading. "Principles of Asymmetric Warfare. Interesting choice."
"Relevant choice. Class F fights opponents with superior mana. That's the definition of asymmetric."
"True." Norman pulled a book from a nearby shelf. "I come here too. Different sections, but same goal. Learning what the Academy doesn't teach."
They stood in silence for a moment. Two students seeking knowledge in forgotten corners.
"What are you looking for?" Robin asked.
"Information on Void corruption. Specifically how it affects bloodlines. How it can be suppressed or controlled." Norman's expression was neutral, but his eyes held intensity. "My condition isn't just physical. It's magical and genetic. Understanding it is the first step to controlling it."
Robin nodded. Understood. "And what have you found?"
"That most texts treat people like me as monsters to be eliminated, not conditions to be managed." Norman's voice was flat. "The Church burned most useful research centuries ago. Called it heresy."
"But some survived."
"Some survived. Hidden in medical texts. Disguised as theoretical research. Buried in footnotes of unrelated works." Norman smiled slightly. "You just have to know where to look."
They returned to their reading.
After an hour, Norman spoke again. "You're not just reading tactics. You're memorizing them."
Robin didn't deny it. "Knowledge is a weapon. The more you have, the more options you possess."
"Your mind works like a tactician. Someone who's commanded before." Norman's golden eyes fixed on Robin. "That's not normal for a ten-year-old."
"Nothing about either of us is normal."
"Fair point." Norman closed his book. "We should establish a system. I research Void corruption and bloodline magic. You research combat tactics and historical warfare. We share relevant findings."
"Information exchange."
"Exactly. Doubles our effective research capacity."
Robin considered. It made tactical sense. Two researchers covering more ground than one.
"Agreed. But we keep it quiet. No one else knows we're doing this."
"Obviously." Norman stood. "Meet here tomorrow night? Same time?"
"Yes."
Norman disappeared into the stacks. Robin continued reading for another thirty minutes, then left.
The pattern established itself. Every evening, they'd meet in the restricted section. Research separately. Share findings.
Then leave for their midnight activities, Robin for combat training with Norman, Norman for his own private exercises.
The library became their sanctuary. A place where they could pursue knowledge the Academy didn't provide.
One night, Robin found something interesting. A text on temporal anomalies in combat. How certain warriors throughout history had demonstrated impossible reaction times. Abilities that seemed to predict opponents' movements before they happened.
Time perception. This is related to Time Echo.
The text was theoretical. Written by a scholar who'd observed S-Rank warriors and tried to explain their capabilities through natural means.
But Robin recognized what the author was describing. Time manipulation. The ability to perceive and react to events in altered timeframes.
Time Echo isn't unique. Others have had similar abilities. The question is how they developed them.
He shared the finding with Norman.
"Temporal combat perception," Norman read. "Interesting. The author suggests it's an advanced application of combat instinct combined with enhanced neural processing."
"Or actual time manipulation."
Norman looked up. "You think that's possible?"
"I think many things are possible that the Academy doesn't acknowledge."
Norman looked at him. "You're very certain about things you shouldn't know."
Robin said nothing.
"Right. Secrets." Norman returned the book. "Well, temporal manipulation or not, it's interesting research. Could explain some historical combat performances."
Their research continued. Night after night. Building knowledge. Sharing insights.
Robin learned about Void corruption mechanisms. How it altered biological systems. How some people adapted while others were destroyed by it.
Norman learned about historical battles. Tactics that worked against superior forces. Ways to leverage environment and psychology over raw power.
Their partnership deepened. Not friendship neither was capable of that easily. But mutual respect. Recognition of shared purpose.
"You're planning something," Norman said one night. They were alone in the restricted section, as usual. "All this research. The tactical training. The careful positioning. You're building toward something specific."
"Everyone's building toward something."
"Most students are building toward graduation. Maybe a military career." Norman's golden eyes were sharp. "You're building toward something else. Something bigger."
Robin closed his book. Met Norman's gaze directly. "And you're not? You're researching Void corruption with intensity that suggests desperation. That's not casual academic interest."
"Fair point." Norman leaned back. "We're both driven. Both pursuing goals beyond just surviving the Academy."
"Yes."
"Good. I prefer working with people who have actual ambition." Norman stood. "Time for midnight training. You ready?"
"Always."
They left the library separately. Met at the eastern gate ten minutes later.
Their nightly combat sessions had evolved. Norman pushed harder. Robin endured more. Both were growing stronger.
[TRAINING SESSION COMPLETE]
[+50 EXP]
[STRENGTH +5]
[ENDURANCE +5]
The system tracked everything and quantified his progress.
Robin was building multiple foundations. Physical training with Norman. Tactical knowledge from the library. Controlled mediocrity in official classes.
Three separate development paths. Each supporting the others.
By the end of the third week, Robin had read over fifty restricted texts. Memorized hundreds of tactical scenarios. Built a mental library that rivaled what some graduate students possessed.
All while maintaining his image as a struggling Class F student who tried hard but lacked the natural gifts to excel.
Norman noticed. "You're scary sometimes. You know that?"
They were in the library. Late evening. Alone as usual.
"Why?"
"Because you plan everything. Control everything. Nothing is accidental with you." Norman's expression was thoughtful. "It's like you're playing a game where everyone else doesn't even know they're pieces."
"Is that a problem?"
"No. Just an observation." Norman smiled slightly. "I'm glad we're allies. I'd hate to be your enemy."
Robin said nothing. Returned to his reading.
But internally, he acknowledged the truth of Norman's words.
He is playing a game. A long, complex game that started sixty years from now and works backward through time.
And everyone is a piece. Including Norman. Including the instructors. Including the Duke.
The question is whether they're obstacles or assets.
Time will tell.
Robin finished his reading session. Left the library. Returned to the dormitory.
His classmates were sleeping. Exhausted from legitimate training.
Robin lay in his bunk. Eyes open. Mind processing the day's information.
Three weeks complete. Foundations established. Knowledge accumulated. Position secured.
Now just continue to build, grow and prepare.
Sleep came eventually.
At dawn, he'd train again.
At evening, he'd research again.
At midnight, he'd fight again.
The cycle continued.
And with each cycle, Robin Stark became more dangerous.
A ghost in the library.
A calculated mediocrity in class.
A ruthless combatant in secret.
All three personas working toward the same goal.
Survival. Growth then eventually, revenge.
But patience. Always patience.
The Duke thinks he failed. Thinks he is struggling at the bottom tier.
While I build something he'll never see coming.
Robin smiled in the darkness.
Knowledge is power. And I'm accumulating both.