At the academy, Balzac leaned his shoulders against a polished marble pillar inside the Astral Terminus. He crossed his arms over his chest and let his chin drop toward his collarbone. Sleep tugged at his mind, tempting him to drift off entirely right there in the busy hub.

"Balzac!" A booming yell shattered the background chatter.

The sudden noise jolted Balzac awake.

The gathered students and visitors froze in place. They stared at the Grandmaster marching across the entrance hall. Sweat beaded on the foreheads of the onlookers as they witnessed the terrifying anger contorting his features. People wanted to offer a formal greeting to the head of the academy, but everyone kept their distance to avoid his wrath.

The Grandmaster stomped directly toward the pillar and pointed an accusing finger. "What are you still doing standing here?" he shouted, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "Why have you not gone to rescue Solomon yet?"

Balzac yawned and scratched the back of his neck lazily. "The administration closed the Eden gate," he replied, gesturing toward the deactivated portal. "How exactly am I supposed to travel through a disabled archway?"

The Grandmaster spun around and rushed straight to the dormant portal. He stopped inches from the control panel and directed a lethal glare at the armored guards and the nearby technicians.

The terminal staff flinched under his gaze. Sweat soaked their collars as they scrambled to justify the lockdown.

"We will try to get it working right now, Grandmaster!" a technician squeaked, frantically tapping the runic interface to reboot the spatial connection.

The stone archway remained completely dark. The staff exchanged terrified glances. Nobody dared to confess their technical failure to the furious academy head.

The Grandmaster observed the dormant runes and immediately understood the situation. He turned on his heel and marched straight out of the Astral Terminus.

A collective sigh of relief washed over the entire hall the moment he disappeared through the double doors.

Balzac scratched his messy hair. He pulled a silk sleep mask from his coat pocket, snapped it over his eyes, and fell asleep while standing perfectly still against the marble pillar.

A few minutes later, rapid footsteps echoed across the floorboards. The Grandmaster stormed back into the hall, physically dragging a terrified student by the collar.

"Balzac!" He shouted Balzac’s name at the top of his lungs.

Balzac ignored the noise and continued to snooze. The Grandmaster marched over and ripped the silk mask directly off the professor’s face. He shoved the trembling student forward, presenting the boy to Balzac like a freshly won hunting trophy.

"What exactly am I supposed to do with this?" Balzac asked, blinking his sleepy eyes at the nervous kid.

"This boy possesses a unique spatial talent," the Grandmaster stated. "He can manually force open spatial gates as long as a designated entry point exists on the other side."

The Grandmaster turned to the student and pointed a stern finger at the dormant stone archway. "Walk over to the Eden Gate and open a spatial portal right now."

The boy stared at the stone archway and wrung his hands together. "I cannot control the spatial tears properly. I will only be able to maintain the connection for a maximum of five seconds."

"Five seconds is fine," the Grandmaster replied.

"Forcing a spatial tear burns through my entire mana pool," the student complained, taking a step backward. "I will be bedridden. I will miss my scheduled broadcasts for the next few days."

The Grandmaster crossed his arms over his robes. "I will immediately deposit fifty thousand academy points into your student account for exemplary public service."

The student’s eyes widened at the generous bribe. He raised both hands and pushed his magic toward the deactivated archway. A swirling vortex of spatial energy flickered to life inside the stone frame.

"I can only link this tear to the first floor of the dungeon," the boy grunted under the physical strain. "The deeper gates require specific coordinate keys and authorization codes."

"That is fine," the Grandmaster stated.

Balzac dropped his lazy posture entirely. He stepped between the Grandmaster and the portal. "It is not fine," Balzac argued, pointing a finger at the swirling vortex. "That is completely unacceptable. Why are you making decisions for me?"

"Your opinion doesn’t matter."

"Dropping me onto the first floor means I have to clear the entire dungeon just to reach the Eden Palace. That trek will take hours. Time is our most valuable asset right now. Solomon is bleeding to death, and we cannot afford to waste a single minute wandering through a beginner zone."

’You just don’t want to fight!’ Grandmaster said in his mind.

The student held the unstable magic and glanced nervously at the two men, waiting for a final command.

"Hurry up and open the gate," the Grandmaster ordered.

The student funneled the rest of his mana into the archway. The vortex stabilized into a glowing portal.

Balzac threw his hands up in frustration and continued listing the logistical nightmares of navigating the lower floors.

The Grandmaster simply stepped behind the protesting professor. He raised his boot and delivered a powerful kick directly to Balzac’s spine.

Balzac let out a surprised yelp as the impact launched him off his feet. He tumbled face-first through the glowing portal. The student collapsed to his knees, completely drained of magic.

The spatial gate snapped shut instantly, leaving the archway dark once again.

"Seriously, he increases my stress levels!" Grandmaster said calmly as he returned to his office.

Balzac crashed face-first onto the cobblestone floor of the first dungeon level. He pushed himself up and dusted the dirt from his wrinkled coat. A profound expression of utter defeat washed over his face.

He stared down the corridor, completely fed up with his current life.

He needed to manually clear ten entire floors of the labyrinth to reach the Kingdom of Eden. The spatial lockdown prevented any direct shortcuts to the palace.

"What a drag," Balzac muttered. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped forward into the darkness.