As the days passed, the little Shadow Rat, which had known little affection, lowered its guard around Linley. By the eighth day, it rushed out to eat the rabbit before Linley had taken two steps away, squeaking at him all the while.

On the tenth day, Linley carried a roasted pheasant in a small cloth bag toward the old houses. Doehring Cowart walked beside him, invisible to everyone but Linley. “It has been nine days. It no longer fears you at all. Give it something even tastier today, and it will grow closer to you.”

The moment Linley reached the old threshold, the little rat darted to his side, standing upright and hopping as it squeaked. Linley laughed. “I have not even taken it out, and it came running.”

“It is already fond of you,” Doehring said.

The rat stared at Linley impatiently. When he produced the roasted pheasant, its little black eyes shone. It looked at him so pitifully that Linley nearly doubled over laughing; Wootton used the same expression whenever Linley had something delicious.

“All right, here.” He tossed it the bird. The rat leapt up, caught it, and tore through it at an astonishing speed. In moments, a pheasant as large as the rat itself had vanished.

“How can that tiny belly possibly hold so much?” Linley asked.

The delighted little rat hopped about and clung to his lower leg with its forepaws. At Doehring’s suggestion, Linley gently stroked its fur. It did not evade him; instead, it shut its eyes in pleasure and soon began to snore.

“What a cute little fellow.” Linley liked it more and more.

“Grandpa Doehring, Magical Beasts are strange. The Raptor is huge and armored in hard scales, yet this little rat may also become a Seventh-rank Magical Beast. How can creatures of the same rank look so different?”

“Never judge by appearances,” Doehring said with a smile. “An ordinary old man on the road might be able to ride a flying dragon and level a mountain with a wave of his hand.”

Linley understood, but the Raptor’s enormous body and cold metallic scales still made its strength obvious at a glance. He sighed. “I wonder when it will be willing to form an Equal Contract with me.” Since only a Magical Beast could cast that contract, all he could do was wait.

“Things are going well. Be patient.”

Twenty more days passed. Linley and the little rat became inseparable, but it showed no sign of forming an Equal Contract.

One quiet night, the Baruch family ate dinner by candlelight. Hogg set down his knife and fork. “Linley, I hear you have been taking roasted rabbits to the old houses in the rear courtyard.”

Linley’s heart jolted. He decided to be honest. “Father, I found a very cute animal there, so I have been bringing it food.”

“A cute animal?” Wootton’s eyes lit up.

Hogg nodded. “That area is seldom visited. By the way, the magical aptitude examinations in the royal capital, Finlay City, begin in about a week. Were you not going to attend?”

Linley had completely forgotten. Doehring emerged from the Coiling Dragon Ring and said with a smile, “With my instruction, why would he need an academy?” Linley agreed; Doehring was a Saint-level Grand Magus. What academy could offer such a teacher?

Hogg’s expression darkened. He remembered how desperately Linley had wanted to become a magus after seeing the battle between the dual-element Eighth-rank magus and the mercenary squad.

Before Linley could answer, Doehring changed his mind. “No. Linley, agree to your father’s request.”

“But why? With your teaching, would an academy not simply waste the family’s money?” Linley asked inwardly.

“I have had no real contact with the Yulan Continent for more than five thousand years. Countless magi have been researching new spells in that time. And Wushan Town is not your future stage. You must step onto a broader one.”

Linley’s heart stirred. He remembered the Raptor, the terrible Dance of the Fire Serpents, and Saint-level Grand Magus Rudi effortlessly calling down countless huge stones. One day, he wanted to ride a dragon through the skies and command world-shaking power.

“Linley, what are you thinking about?” Hogg asked, displeased.

“Father, I truly want to become a magus. Please arrange for me to take the admission test in Finlay City a week from now.”

Hogg smiled at last. Wootton clapped. “A magus? The kind who breathes fire?”

“That is a street performance,” Hogg said sternly. “Do not confuse it with magic.”

Linley asked about the best academies. Hogg explained that the O’Brien Empire possessed the continent’s foremost warrior academy, O’Brien Academy. “But the greatest academy for magi is here in the Holy Union: Ernst Institute, named for Ernst, the legendary Pope of the Radiant Church.”