The academy bell rang, its clear tone echoing across the stone corridors. Students poured out of the lecture hall, some heading toward the library, others toward the training grounds, and a few toward the cafeteria to fight over whatever snacks were left before dinner.
Zayle slung his bag over his shoulder and stretched his arms.
"Finally done," he said. "If I hear one more explanation about mana flow kinetics, I'm going to start flowing myself right out the window."
Lyla walked beside him, calm as ever. Her long dark hair swayed slightly with each step. "You should pay attention. You almost blew up your desk when your mana channels destabilized earlier."
"I call that practical experimentation."
Lin Fei joined them, clutching a stack of notes like they were his last lifeline. "You stabilized the explosion by luck alone. That wasn't experimentation. That was irresponsible survival."
"Same result," Zayle said.
Lyla sighed, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.
They walked out into the main courtyard. Students scattered everywhere, some practicing spells, some sparring, and some loudly failing at both.
Zayle looked around subtly. After the Rift Forest patrol, he'd been itching.
Not for rest.
For action.
The assignment had shown him just how big the world was and just how tiny his current strength still felt.
But he wasn't the type to get depressed.
He was the type to chase trouble until it gave him the strength he wanted.
Lin Fei adjusted his glasses. "Where are you going now? The dorms?"
Zayle shook his head. "I've got… a thing."
Lyla looked suspicious. "A thing?"
"A place. For a thing."
Lin Fei's eyes narrowed. "You are going to do something dangerous."
"Not dangerous. Just… slightly violent."
Lyla crossed her arms. "Zayle. You promised Instructor Lyselle you wouldn't wander into restricted areas again."
"I'm not. I'm going somewhere perfectly legal."
Both of them stared at him until he added:
"Probably legal."
Lyla rubbed her forehead. "Zayle."
"I'll be fine," he said with his usual grin. "I'll be back before curfew. Worst case, I'll run fast."
Lin Fei muttered, "You say that as if you enjoy running for your life."
"It builds character."
He gave them a lazy salute and slipped out the academy gates.
The moment he was outside, his smile sharpened.
Time to visit the beginner dungeon.
He had heard rumors about a small dimensional rift forming behind the old trading outpost near the southern road. Nothing big, nothing official, nothing the academy cared about.
But to Zayle, it smelled like free experience.
And trouble.
He hummed as he walked, boots hitting the cobblestone path rhythmically. Trees lined the road, the sky glowing orange with the late afternoon sun. Birds chirped. Leaves rustled.
Everything felt peaceful.
Which meant trouble was right around the corner.
The old outpost stood just ahead. Half-rotted wood. One door missing. Dusty sign. Perfect spot for random danger.
Zayle stepped inside.
And immediately saw three older adventurers arguing.
All three wore leather gear. One carried a cleaver. One had a bow. The third had arms folded and a permanent scowl shaped like destiny had personally offended him.
Zayle tried to walk past them without being noticed.
He failed.
The scowling man stepped forward. "Oi. Kid. This area's ours."
Zayle blinked. "The air? The floor? The… scenery?"
"The dungeon," the man snapped.
"Ah."
Zayle looked at the faint shimmering crack behind them. The rift was barely the size of a doorway but definitely stable.
"Didn't know you claimed ownership."
The cleaver guy leaned forward. "We did. Just now."
"Congratulations," Zayle said. "Should I clap?"
The man grabbed his collar.
Zayle sighed. He never started fights outside class.
People just liked starting them with him.
The archer spoke up. "We're clearing this rift today. Get lost."
"I just want to pick up a few materials," Zayle said. "I'll be quick. I won't get in your way."
Scowl-man growled. "You walk in there, you're stealing our loot."
Zayle shrugged. "You can't steal something that's not yours yet."
The cleaver guy raised the blade. "Say that again."
Zayle cracked his neck.
He wasn't the type to cause trouble.
But he wasn't going to bend either.
"Alright," he said. "Let's do it this way. We fight. If you win, I leave. If I win, I go inside. Simple."
They laughed.
"Three against one?" the archer said.
Zayle grinned. "I prefer bigger odds, actually."
The system chimed.
System Message: Recklessness DetectedTemporary Quest Created: Survive and WinReward: Small Stat IncreasePenalty: Embarrassing Death
Zayle cracked his fists. "Let's dance."
The cleaver guy charged first. Zayle sidestepped. The blade whistled past him, cutting into the doorframe. Before the man could pull it free, Zayle slammed his elbow into the man's jaw.
The cleaver guy collapsed.
Scowl-man cursed and launched a punch. Zayle blocked but winced. The man was stronger than he looked.
He kicked the man back, rolled to avoid an arrow, and dashed forward. The archer tried to run but tripped on a loose plank. Zayle grabbed him by the collar and gently, politely, dropped him outside the door.
Two down.
Scowl-man spat blood. "You brat. You think this is some game?"
Zayle shrugged. "Everything's a game if you're bad enough at it."
The man roared and charged.
Their fists collided.
The man staggered back.
Zayle's knuckles throbbed but he stayed standing.
Then he swept the man's legs and pinned him to the floor with his foot.
"I win," Zayle said breathlessly. "As agreed."
The man glared up at him. "You're dead, kid. We'll remember this."
"Good. Make a list. I like seeing my fans organized."
Zayle stepped off and grabbed his bag.
He didn't bother apologizing. If anything, he considered the fight a free warm-up.
System Message: Quest CompleteReward GrantedSmall Stat Increase Applied
Zayle checked quickly.
Strength: 35Agility: 27Stamina: 19Spirit: 26Perception: 21
Visible to others:
Strength: 20Agility: 16Stamina: 11Spirit: 15Perception: 12
Nice.
The rift shimmered invitingly.
"Alright," Zayle said. "Let's see what's inside."
He stepped through.
Light flashed.
He landed in a mossy, dim cavern filled with glowing mushrooms and the distant growl of beasts.
Perfect.
He drew his sword.
"Time to work."
He charged forward.
Trouble welcomed him immediately.
And he welcomed it back.