Time could certainly be a fickle thing.


    Whenever I was going through excruciating pain, be it physical or emotional, one second would easily feel like an hour—time dragging itself as if the only thing waiting for it at the end of the path was death.


    Yet whenever I was desperate for those long, dragging seconds—wishing one day would become two—time would rush and leave me eating dust. A dust I would choke on as I fought for breath, drowning in a sea of sand while I tried to grasp for more time.


    For in the blink of an eye, two months had passed.


    <I wish you well on your admission today.>


    <Do send Styx my love.>


    That had been the first time my mysterious benefactor had contacted me after closing our deal.


    Their niece visited the state a few times during the training, mostly to see how I was treating Styx—her dislike for me was quite clear, in this regard.


    As I read the message on my crystal, somehow my heart began to beat more anxiously. Even when those words had been sent by someone I had never seen, someone I had only ever heard through a radio.


    For I was standing in front of Ergos Academy.


    And to call it monumental would be an understatement.


    The sight of the entrance made me question if giants also existed and I was simply unaware of it, because the sheer size of the front gate made me feel like the most insignificant vermin.


    The more I looked at it the less I could tell if it resembled more a castle or a noble mansion. Perhaps they wanted Ergos to be both. And though I couldn’t see them, I could hear the dragons from afar.


    In order to not block the entrance, all contestants had to register their mounts at the south gate before completing their admissions at the entrance. And it was not something random; five days prior we received a message stating the time and day we had to register our dragons.


    Since Ergos usually received around 10.000 applicants every year, I could see why they would separate the registrations like that. I had been lucky enough to be chosen to register Styx on the last day, so in the end, I didn’t waste any time of training.


    And in the end, I made the mistake of arriving only a few minutes early—the line was beyond insane.


    Around me, I could see dragons of all races and attributes, sizes, and builds. Though most of them were mediocre, there were a few that really caught my eye as a former ringleader.


    Whether their riders could match up to their potential was a different point entirely.


    On a similar note, Styx was attracting many gazes toward himself, yet for a different reason; he was, likely, the oldest dragon in line.


    Where most riders glanced at Styx with mockery and pity, some would widen their eyes at the sight of him. Indeed, no matter how old he was, Styx had a unique presence. Even his fellow kin recognized it, the dragons eying him in silence with piercing gazes.


    “Some researchers say your kind not only has keener senses but is more intelligent as well. What do you think about proving them right?” I whispered to Styx as I stole some side glances from the riders who were belittling the black, older dragon with their smirks and laughs.


    Styx did nothing in reply. Yet the cold stare he gave the others was enough to make them all look away, even the other dragons. I managed to hold back a laugh but not to hide my smile—I had ended up with a great dragon after all, personality-wise.


    Little by little, the line got smaller as dragons were taken inside and riders walked toward the main entrance. Ergos had set up three registration desks outside, where they would collect the basic information about the dragons and their riders.


    Applicants were also able to rent gear or any other equipment they might need, for a fee. And even with their ridiculous prices, people would still line up to get equipment.


    The closer I got, the more nervous I felt. I was not used to…


    Human interactions.


    As Jackal, I was the greatest ringleader. The boss, the guy who gave the paycheck. I talked with my team from my room, gave instructions to my riders through radio, and communicated long-distance with everyone—I didn’t have much contact, actual human contact, with others. And I would love to keep things like this.


    There were a few people I had more interactions with than others, and neither of them was what I would consider “average people”.


    I didn’t know how to act toward the “common folk”. And I was afraid my experiences would show.


    When it was finally my turn, a woman dressed in the academy’s uniform waved at me.


    I walked toward the desk in the middle, ignoring the murmurs and whispers as Styx and I passed by. I was barely ten steps away before the woman reached out with her hand.


    “Application number and invitation letter.”


    I took the envelope from the inner pocket of my jacket, placing it on her palm. “ER#5987.”


    There was a big crystal ball by her side, mana moving from within. As soon as I spoke, the mana began to move and twirl, its color changing from blue to yellow, and finally setting on green. As my application number was displayed, so did my personal information.


    “Sync your personal credentials, please,” she said while she matched the information on the letter with the one displayed on the crystal.


    I raised my wrist, touching the black crystal in a specific pattern until it glowed. The white crystal glowed in response, its light pulsating as the seconds passed. After a few moments, my crystal lit up green.


    The woman gave a short nod, shifting her focus to the black dragon standing by my side. I saw her eye twitch as the dragon’s eyes met hers, her lips trembling for a brief second.


    She blinked and shook her head before taking out a blank scroll. “Please state the name and core of your mount.”


    “Styx. That is S-T-Y-X; cold core.”


    “You confirm he is a two-legged dragon?”


    “Yes.”


    “He hasn’t been modified or enhanced in any way?”


    “No.”


    As I answered, she wrote in the scroll with a long feather. I could see the ink had been embedded with mana—likely to prevent any kind of forgery.


    Angus had taught me how to spot the difference, years ago. An ink infused with mana would shimmer against the light; the stronger the shimmer, the stronger the mana. Most people, if they did not know what to look for, wouldn’t notice.


    People like Angus, they would not touch a contract unless they saw the pretty shimmer.


    “Attribute?”


    “Air.”


    “Does he only possess one attribute?”


    I hesitated for a moment. “That I’m aware of, yes.”


    She raised her eyebrow slightly before going back to writing.


    “Do you know his measures?”


    “From head to tail; nine meters and thirty-two centimeters. For height; four meters and forty-three centimeters. Weight is around fifteen tons.”


    I had measured Styx—


    Thrice.


    “Age?”


    “…54.”


    The woman raised her gaze. “And can you confirm the dragon is apt to participate in races?”


    A low growl came from Styx, making the woman flinch for a second. I crossed my arms, the mockery as present in my voice as it was in my smile.


    “He can race better than most dragons you’ve registered today.”


    She scoffed, giving a side glance to Styx. “Ergos do not take any responsibility over injuries and casualties that occur during the exam, nor do Ergos provide any financial support for treatments and medical procedures.”


    In the end, Ergos Academy was a place for prestigious citizens. For the “common folk” who slept in duvet mattresses with imported sheets. Those who either had a family to back them up or money stuffed up in every hole in their bodies.


    Cases like Emrys, where an underground rider was recruited, were not uncommon. Still, in their eyes, people like Emrys and I should be begging on our knees while kissing their feet, thanking them for their benevolent hearts.


    I narrowed my eyes. “Sure. Was not expecting any less.”


    She finished scribing, giving it a final stamp.


    “After you finish your admission at the front entrance, go to the main stadium. We’ll move the dragons there once admissions close.”


    “Yeah, thanks.” The woman gave me a copy of the scroll, and I tucked it into my pocket.


    Some of the academy’s staff came to take Styx away, a white mana chord wrapping itself around the dragon’s neck.


    A few dragons, especially younger ones, would sometimes become aggressive or on guard to have something around their neck. In those cases, riders were obliged to take the proper precautions, such as muzzles and sedatives.


    Seeing how calm Styx was, it was clear he was more than used to this.


    The black dragon eyed me one last time—as if it wanted to communicate something. Right before he disappeared from my sight, I opened my mouth.


    “Don’t forget to be nice to your juniors!”


    Styx scoffed, waving his tail in a way that showed his minor annoyance.


    It was funny how, even after only a couple of months, I could already tell some of his habits and mannerisms.


    Yet me knowing what Styx did when he was anxious or upset, or the way he moved when he was excited versus when he was angry, was of little importance during a race.


    Because between the two of us, I was the current weak link. And out of almost 10,000 applicants, only a thousand would be accepted.


    Which meant I had to fly better than—at the very least—9,000 riders.