Spire Sea [near the long shadow of Hiruk continent], local time [1794.04.11]

  An older woman straightened up from her position above the patient, sighing heavily. Carefully, she pulled back the gray clothing covering the young girl’s abdomen and fastened it with a wide, soft belt.

  After covering her with a warm blanket, she turned around, ready to address the spectators standing just outside of the infirmary’s open doors.

  She didn’t hurry, slowly stepping down two metal steps of the balancing platform that was keeping the hospital bed stable this whole time. With grace and ease brought by years of experience, she lightly descended onto the cabin sole. She didn’t even pause while walking – her leg hit the flooring when the platform was perfectly flush with the underdeck while swinging backwards.

  She continued her unhurried walk and ignored the contraption behind her back entirely. Even when it missed her head by centimeters a few moments later, she didn’t react in any way.

  If they hadn’t seen her at work before, the people present would react much more actively. But because everybody already knew about the old hag’s strange penchant for scaring the onlookers this way, they only cringed or turned their gaze away.

  The crew above was still searching the waters, so only the guests were present, waiting patiently for her to finish the examination. Out of the expected company, only the Cartographer lady was absent. Still disgruntled because of the joint decision to look for survivors, she decided to lock herself in her cabin.

  “Her body is stabilizing, but there is much more going on. I can’t be sure she will live through it,” the Doctor explained succinctly before anyone could ask a question. Her quiet, hoarse voice immediately silenced them all.

  “A bad case of hypothermia, a concussion, four fractured bones, and severe bruising aren’t life-threatening. I could deal with the worst of it in a week. But a severe Mana poisoning, symptoms of Soul backlash, and a turbulent mind are another story entirely…” She paused, worry evident on her face. “Even if someone shielded her when she fell into the water, her parents have passed away before she left the altitude of stratum-one. Either they perished minutes before the ‘crash’, or their aero-vehicle was flying higher than we were expecting.”

  “That may be bad,” Ferrandis started talking immediately after the Doctor paused. “Taking into account her origins, she should be old enough to develop higher sentience, if not full sapience…”

  Zeph did a double take when he heard the scholar.

  It felt strange when he was describing a fellow human like that, but after remembering where they were and what it meant, it started to make sense in Zeph’s mind. Those were official terms used by the System to describe intelligent life, even if nobody truly understood what those meant and the Onji’s verdicts sometimes seemed far-fetched. But no matter how subjective this evaluation was, it accurately marked at least two most important stages of existence on Corora. Basic Sapience, also called Primal Sapience to prevent mistakes, was describing a point at which organisms were starting to generate Will and, subsequently, form a Soul. On the other hand, Basic Sentience was a requirement to unlock the Interface and Class/Profession choices – as has happened to Gru, and as was the case for human children 4 to 7 years old. As so, people started to implement those terms in their language naturally.

  The old woman nodded. “Yes. She’s somewhere between 12 to 14 years old – aware enough to comprehend everything that had transpired fully…”

  This would be another surprise for people who didn’t know any better. In appearance, the girl looked to be ten at most, if one squinted their eyes.

  The scholar nodded. “The chances are high that her Will have faded. And the resulting Soul wound…”

  The old lady shook her head, raising her hand to stop him. “Even a simpler possibility does not leave much hope,” she said, looking up. “Deeply traumatic experiences are too much for kids her age. That in itself would be enough to drastically magnify the effects of the backlash – the aftermath of the Soul-bond breaking. And if she witnessed the death of her parents… Yes, if she was there personally, your conclusion may as well be right. Either way, I can’t guarantee that she will be able to recover from a Soul wound like that…”

  “But the chances that she has chosen her Class and Profession are also high, right?” Zeph interjected, aware that the discussion started spiraling down into the abyss of hopelessness. “Class structures that aren’t species-related are stabilizing the Soul much better. Not to mention, the System would probably give her some last-resort options. Especially if she had made her choice after her parents’ death but before the crash…”

  This topic was a bit complicated and, as a result, everyone gathered paused for a moment to parse through his comment.

  ______________________

  Even after gaining access to the Interface at a tender age, youngsters were always taught to not choose their Class blindly. There was a lot to learn before taking that step, and a loss or a misalignment of PE during the waiting period was imperceptible in the long run.

  In the first place, a starting Class of any newborn was that of their species, and those were known for strengthening the most important (in other words – the most lacking) aspects of a given type of organism by smartly allocating Passive Enchantments. Making sure that all PEs were being developed optimally was the sole purpose of those Classes. At least in theory, it should be the best start for the young of any species.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  As so, the intelligent races were known for stalling for as long as they could. It was much more important to discover the talents and predispositions of their children first, way before looking for a fitting Class and Profession.

  Besides waiting for a young individual to develop a higher Sentience and Sapience before allowing them to make this semi-permanent decision, the ‘Affinity Test’ was only viable after a decade of stable life. An affinity – as in ‘below-the-threshold Soul contamination’ – was not something the System Onji approved of or traced, and yet it has become a part of the local culture because the period of postponing Class choice was increasing each year slightly. At this point in time, it was normal to wait for 5 to 25 years before taking a Class – depending on the inborn longevity of a humanoid race. There was a limiting factor, though.

  The initial, species-related Class of intelligent races could not surpass the level of 25, and all Soul fragments gained thereafter were lost. After that point, an individual had to choose their specialization or progress without the help of the System.

  It wasn’t the case for the non-intelligent beings, but those always followed a different set of rules.

  Taking all that into account, Corora’s humans wisely advised their children to make the choice quite early in their life – at the age of 12 to 20, so at least 5 years after unlocking the Interface. It wasn’t optimal for measuring their affinities, but humans had a limited lifespan – making the kids wait any longer would be cruel. Of course, the higher the stratum, the longer people dared to wait. Sharing high Regeneration and swimming in resources did that to people. The common-sense border of 20 years (counted from the moment of gaining access to the Interface) was rarely crossed, though. For many reasons.

  Putting aside those unnecessary details – for most civilizations, this event marked the first step of becoming an adult. Yes, only the first step. Even Corora’s humans could be considered a long-lived race thanks to the System Onji’s machinations, so who in their right mind would announce that a 12-year-old kid was a full-fledged adult? Either way, those ‘rituals of passage’ were an important part of the many cultures that spanned across the Corora.

  The only downside for waiting that long – in the case of naturally intelligent races, at least – was the possible loss or misalignment of PE in regards to the future Class. The initial, species-related Classes weren’t simply replaced by the chosen ones. No, they were transforming into them – the new Classes were inheriting the old levels, so the past PE distribution and amount were permanently locked-down. No reimbursement, even if a person changed their Class again. But, as it was said, it wasn’t much of a problem.

  But going back to the current events – nobody present on the ship had the full knowledge of those facts. The basics for humans were known, but not many details. Zeph’s comment was hitting so many points at once that everyone came to their own conclusions.

  Of course, Zeph himself wasn’t aware of most of it.

  ______________________

  The Doctor’s face relaxed slightly, but she shook her head despite that. “System intervention… It would be too little, too late… Her fate lies in her hands now, we can only take care of her body.”

  “Well, that may not be the full truth of the situation…” Makani said, glancing at Zeph and nudging him with his elbow.

  Zeph frowned slightly as the Doctor and the scholar looked curiously at him, eyebrows raised.

  “Ugh, I may have means to calm her mind…” Not like I wanted to speak about that openly, you moron! Traitor!

  The old lady hummed, her gaze skeptical and distrustful. “And what would be the method, exactly? Was it tested and proved to be safe for the disabled?”

  “It’s a minor side effect of my upgrades. It isn’t even acknowledged by the System Onji. It seemed to help the kids in the orphanage rest peacefully—” The woman frowned deeply, making him stop abruptly.

  “No funny business here, lady,” he immediately denied, irritated a bit at the insinuation. “I would rather not hear accusations of testing dangerous effects on kids. I don’t know what you have seen in your life, but that would be a step beyond irrational.”

  She started opening her mouth to rebuke him, only to pause. After looking at the ceiling in thought for a moment, she shook her head. “My apologies. It was stupid of me. I almost made your whole Guild look like garbage, when you are a pure gold for everyone involved. It’s just… the way and order of events looks quite wrong.”

  He snorted. “Tell me about it. I visited the orphanage with Aisha one day. Suddenly, the kids wanted me to sleep with them in the common bedroom. It was the same day, mind you. Something about feeling safe, they said. The next thing I remember is being forced into regular visits because their overall mentality improved… Like that can even be measured. All I have noticed is the fact that they slept way better covered in my Veil. You”—he sent a hateful gaze Makani’s way—“can observe and tell me why. Because I have no freaking idea!” And he wasn’t even lying. It has something to do with his Will, but he didn’t know what at all.

  He paused to take a deep breath and calm himself. Those sleepless nights in the crowded room weren’t bothering him much – he wanted to help where he could, either way. The insistence of certain people that he should, though, was a different thing altogether. And Makani just crossed that very line by making that half-voiced request a moment ago. Not only that, he put his secrets in jeopardy without any solid reason! If only he had more trust in Zeph’s morals…

  If Zeph had a choice, he would definitely try to help. But he would also do it inconspicuously. Now? Now he was stripped of that choice. Worse yet, without explaining himself immediately, he was sure that those people would try to spy on him. Or, at least, Ferrandis would, the clever bastard.

  Suddenly, Zeph half-turned his upper body and blindly grabbed the Air-Magicule conglomeration behind him. That sleazy, pathetically short Manariter was trying to escape after noticing what he had done.

  “Oh! I just remembered something!” Zeph shamelessly exclaimed. “What was that oxygen therapy I’ve heard about again?”

  He yanked the poor, embarrassed Manacaster back into his place with a slight rotation of his lower body. The man was not only weaker than Zeph, he possessed only a basic knowledge of martial arts, so the action was splendidly effortless.

  Obviously, people here had a name for the true oxygen. It was way too important to not be included in the knowledge General Skills. As so, it had its own name in the Cir vocabulary, even if most people on stratum zero didn’t understand what they were talking about. But Makani was way richer in knowledge thanks to Zeph’s lessons. Not to the atomic level, but still. And it was high time for him to make use of that knowledge instead of leaching off of him like a homeless freelancer.

  No, wait. Apology for all homeless freelancers! He’s more like a stubborn roommate who doesn’t pay his bills!

  “Also, why not share more about that pleasant sound that helps bones to come together?” he asked with a still-widening, false smile, while clapping Makani on his back a few times to make sure he was painfully aware of his situation. “It helped me sooo much last time!”

  Makani tried to laugh it off, but the focus of the two nearby predators was already on him.

  Zeph’s grin was stretching more and more out with every second of the Manacaster’s misery. He himself may have some effect on mentally scarred kids, but Makani would be irreplaceable for all patients from now on.