Chapter 6 Threads of Fire and Starlight

Zane

I looked down at my message crystal.

Princess Flyer.
I wondered if she was going to argue with the decision to keep things separate. She definitely struck me as the type.

I didn’t know her personally, but she was obviously from one of the noble houses. How high or prestigious? No idea. But she carried herself with an incredibly thick sense of decorum. Her sword technique was flawless—disciplined and efficient—and even though she was using an avatar anonymizer, she couldn’t fully hide her bearing or the way she interacted with others. The first time I saw her, she’d shown up with a full entourage, like some kind of military procession.

Had to be from one of the martial families. Her sword style was too distinct, and the way her mana operated—at least partly self-governed—was definitely out of the ordinary these days. Most people leaned heavily on system assistance. She didn’t seem to need it.

“Zane,” Mira’s voice broke through my thoughts. “We’ve got to get in line. Naming ceremony’s about to start.”

I nodded and stood, following the stream of students into the Arcane Emporium—the place where our natural proclivities, personality traits, and system integration would be tested. It a massively magic structure that uses the full breath of the System and dives deep into the partiapates. Once complete, we’d receive our initial stat profiles and a few tailored options for future progression paths.

“Eva, don’t think I’m just going to let some foreign system start poking around in my code.”

Her voice chirped in my ear.

[Eva: They’ve got another thing coming. Honestly, they’re lucky if I don’t firebomb the whole thing.]

I shook my head. “Eva, we have to play nice, remember? Things are supposed to be a secret.”

[“Yeah, about that. We should probably talk about why I have to be a secret again?”]

“Because most people don’t have an AI companion with your
 personality.”

[“Cheeky brilliance, you mean.”]

“I mean chaotic energy. You’re a blessing, Eva—but also a curse.”

[“Rude! You are being so mean to me today.”]

I could hear the pout in her voice.

“ Listen. I am sorry Eva. Just please make sure you lock down what needs to be locked down. If the Syetem gets a read on me. It could be a problem.”

[“Which is why I need you to not let them see your real stats. Got it. So, what do I get in return?”]

I sighed. “My eternal gratitude?”

[“Not good enough.”]

“What do you want?”

[“You’re taking me on a date this afternoon.”]

“You’re the only system I know that demands dates.”

[“I have needs, Zane.”]

“Fine. Just
 handle the masking protocol. I don’t want anyone finding anything weird.”

[“You do realize you’ll have to showcase at least some of your skills, right? Otherwise, you risk losing your scholarship. And access to resources.”]

“I know. I’ll reveal what I have to. Hoping to keep it to Stonewoke for now, then we’ll see.”

The Arcane Emporium was massive—vaulted ceilings, glowing glyphs, and a subtle hum of mana that filled the space like a living current. But it wasn’t just mana. There was divine power here too. You could feel it woven through the structure itself, likely embedded during its creation by the Church or a high-ranking priestess.

Divine power was rare. You couldn’t just study your way into it. It required a contract, or a bloodline inheritance. Even if someone wasn’t devout, once a blessing was given it couldn’t be taken away. And lets face it, Divine beings didn’t seem too picky—goddesses, divine beasts, spirits
 all had made pacts in the past. I’d never heard of a direct contract with a goddess, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Maybe that explained why the Emporium’s system was so good at parsing fate threads during Naming.

We moved through one of the portal rings and into the main chamber, talking idly as we waited for our turn.

“I’d love to be an Arcane Caster,” Elaine said, glancing at her crystal. “Flexible, powerful, and if the build works, I could even slot in divine healing as a subroutine if I can find a contract or tablet binding.”

“I want to focus on glyphwork,” Mira added. “Lifestyle magic, you know? Stuff that improves people’s lives without needing to be on the front lines.”

Cal looked thoughtful. “Monster hunting’s more my thing. Maybe a spear path or something with a naginata. I love bladework, but I’d rather face monsters than people.”

I nodded silently. That
 made sense.

They didn’t know I’d already killed someone. Fighting people and fighting monsters were two very different beasts. Monsters followed instincts. Dungeon rules. Patterns you could study and exploit. But people?

People lied. Faked. Cheated. That was actually the main difference between mericanies and adventurs. One deal with mortal threats while others dealt with more systems ones.

Where it got really complicated was monsters that acted like mortals.

A Death Knight for example wasn’t just a monster—it used to be a man. It remembered tactics. Sword forms. Spells.

That was something else entirely.

The three of them turned to me.

“You all know what I want to be,” I said with a half-smile. “Just a basic swordsman. That’s enough for me.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “Vain in your sword, humble in your words.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “Remind me again—how does the stat system work? I know you’ve all messed with it more than I have.”

I turned toward the incoming staging zone and answered quietly:

“It’s layered. First scan identifies your baseline—physical, cognitive, mana alignment, everything. Then it matches those to your psychological imprint and potential affinities. Based on that, it recommends integration paths—what traits to strengthen, what classes to try, how to allocate your growth points.”

“And then we pick?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Then you pick. But that’s just the start. Once you commit, the real training begins.”