"At least Leoric knew only the best could inherit his grimoire." Adam's eyes took crescent shapes as he flipped the pages to the core content of Leoric and Cordelia's technique.

He flipped through pages of drawn postures, exercises to turn the body more malleable, and devastating strikes. The spells next were even better. They were not just destructive, but allowed for surprising adaptability for chaos-based magic.

What drew his attention most, however, was the ancient couple's definition of chaos.

"Chaos, unlike what most think, is not the absence of order. Instead, it is a state in between. Not convinced? Here is an example: if I write down billions of numbers randomly, I'll get your date, and even the coordinates of your birthplace somewhere. Impossible, right? Yet the stars, suns, moons, and every living species were born from chaotic mutation until they discovered the order that would hold their cells together.

Order can't exist without chaos, and nothing can exist without order. They are complementary sides of the same coin. And since chaos exists in everything, your affinity matters not. You can use fire, water, or even rarer ones like lightning or ice, with the same efficiency.

How? Now we're down to serious business.

The answer is: however you want. I'm sure Cordelia's golem gave you a hard time. Didn't she slide on your spells as if they were tangible? Moved without being affected? That was chaos at play. Not even magic, but just her rewriting order with her blade's enchantments."

A furrow creased Adam's brow. Seeing Cordelia's golem ride on his gravity alterations had been worth a hundred style points, and he kind of got the idea. Instead of outright dismantling his spells, she used them to bridge the distance.

There was more to it—the psychological aspect. No matter how focused on the battle he had been, her way of using his spells to her advantage shocked a part of him. It didn't seem like much, but it cemented her image of infallibility in his mind.

For a moment, he imagined himself shattering the lethal spells of adversaries into chaotic components while using the others to increase his mobility.

"Very stylish, indeed. No." He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not just adversary spells, but my own, too. The blast I used to blind the golem wouldn't have hurt me. I could have even rewritten the interior to propel me at her faster."

The moment he muttered his idea, his eyes narrowed in realisation. Leoric and Cordelia's issue wasn't tied to their mana, not even to their magic circuits—it was their control. Of course. Why would their techniques revolve around dismantling and rewriting other spells? Because they couldn't control their own. In short, their lack of control was so profound that they made it their strength by stealing their adversaries'.

"Chaos is not the absence of order." Grinning, he slung the grimoire close and moved to his closet. With both hands on the handles, he flung the doors open. "It's the potential to surpass limitations."

In front of him, Leoric's mysterious room unfolded. The snuffed and toppled torches were back on the pristine walls. They flickered soft light that illuminated the red carpet unfurling between the four square pillars. They had been torn, burned and cracked a few hours ago. Now? No craters, no traces of his own blood. From his battle with both golems, only the shattered carcass of the colossal one remained slumped on the ancient slabs.

He closed the door behind him, then, hands clasped behind his back, he strolled to the groove the golem used to embed itself in. Everything here was his. A place safe from Haldris' gaze—a place he would adjust to correct one of his biggest regrets.

Cultivating in the archipelago.

For a moment, he rubbed the groove with a focused frown. Then, he nodded. From the Thalgron chain, the shack in the depths of the Serathen, and Leoric's old basement in Brineheart, he could feel mana flow into the room.

The golem had likely used it to keep itself active throughout millennia. But what if Adam tweaked the magic circles inside to draw life force as well?

"I'll only need to put a cushion, and I'll have the best cultivation seat for both mana and Qi in the entire archipelago." He measured the distance between the door and the groove, formations and ley lines flashing in the outlines of a remodelling plan. "Mhh. I'll need rare materials and a better understanding of how this dimension between space and chaos interacts with the outside world."

He took three steps to the door, settling his mind on the shack. But once his hand met the handle, his gaze trailed to his uniform's emblem. He shook his head. Not now, not with the tracking enchantment active.

Right now, the college staff should believe that he was in his room. If he emerged around the Serathen wearing his uniform, however, things would get nasty. Still, he opened the door to get a quick peek at what was on the other side.

His eyes instantly widened to a world of somber azure. A bank of silvery-scaled fish swam around a mana barrier that isolated the doorframe he stood by. On the ground, no soil, but submerged rocks, covered in sparse green weed that swayed with underwater currents as if to greet him.

The Serathen was a river? Not enough currents. A pond, then. One deep enough for weeds not to proliferate much, and sunlight to disperse. Not that there was sunlight at this hour anyway. The moon shone bright, and the darkness of the night had already claimed the archipelago's sky.

He nodded, closing the door. Not bad. Depending on where the pond was, he could hunt for tier six or seven materials while avoiding enforcers. He checked the Thalgron chain, which carried him inside the belly of a mountain. He didn't notice any tunnels, but in the damp darkness, a magical circle barely pulsed with mana.

Likely something like the teleportation circle he knew about, though it seemed slightly different. Anyway, he didn't need too many minerals, so he put this destination to the back of his mind for now and reopened the door to his room.

Bathed by the half moonlight, he removed his uniform, then slid into bed.

Leoric's knowledge, his basement—they could wait. Mastery would take more than one extra night. His plan to snatch his House's top three, however, started tomorrow morning. Somehow, he couldn't wait but to stir his classmates with the result.

With a mischievous smirk, he closed his eyes.