The gates of death itself creaked, shivering inside Khonsu's timeless and over-spilling presence. He snapped his fingers, summoning a contortion in time.

He stepped forward, his glistering irises shuddering. Khonsu distorted his speed, blurring through the eternal, clanking corridor; bemused. "Someone's in this palace?"

Khonsu immediately flipped forward, forming a glaive - feeling it groan until rippling with a clang of time-warping mana. He aged up the castle; the gates of the antique, immutable bed-room crumbling.

"Hm..."

My moderately vociferous, sarcastic, and monotonous group and I sauntered through the stairs of the Srooa-Empire's hotel. I glanced over to Osiris: whose novel flittered to another page, the illustrations almost glistering.

Wukong knocked a silky, glassy finger atop Horuss. I felt something akin to a contortion of mana inside his signature tool, not a presence; mana. I, myself, summoned my favourite dagger, tapping its smooth scabbard.

Saue ambled towards me, hovering on his writhing, sweltering cloud. His azure irises, dissimilar to my own, snapped over to Wukong: who stretched his staff's size. "Your friend's kinda crazy."

Suspiring outwards, I gazed upon Saue's visage - his complexion was gashed, wounded with innumerable slashes, yet still carried a straight-forward, imperious contortion atop his face. "Is he now?"

"Yep." Saue blithely retorted; unperturbed. He snapped his fingers, forming an infinitesimal hand from his clouds. It scratched his ear, as my class-mate yawned, chuckling. "He was going insane for a blade. A blade, Vasura."

I ignored his mocking, sardonic, yet scathing falsetto. Saue wasn't a cruel, scorning individual deliberately, he was blunt, never bothering to sweeten his opinion. "You believe him? You lazy bastard."

"Nope." Saue casually refuted; entertained, slipping his cloud hand back into its welkin-formed terrain. He clicked his fingers, summoning two eye-patches atop his sapphire gaze, his energy pulsing. "Wake me up, eh?"

We stepped - or floated - into the lower-section of the hotel. I sunk into one of the sofas inside the lounge, flicking my crimson hair. Karasuu settled into a burnished, flinty chair, humming. "Are you elated?"

Elated? His vocabulary was, indeed, intentionally troubling. I leaned back into the sofa's smooth, satiny pillow, slipping my dagger through my finger's skin. "Elated for a festival? Nah."

Karasuu immediately flicked his runic, yet still scintillating glaive-scabbard. His weapon dispelled back into his centre - slinging a book out of his ebony pouch. "Hm."

I felt the flood of magical-energy strolling into the lounge, I granted my class-mates a blithe, bland inspection, still slipping my dagger into my flesh. "Guess we're going now, huh?"

"Indeed." Karasuu lackadaisically concurred, his book rippling until distorting back inside his bag. My scientific, unsettling companion chuckled, mirth groaning through his silky, pitiless tongue. "You're not thrilled, then?"

"Nope." I dryly murmured back, my soprano unentertained, still rasping. I wasn't ecstatic to be going to this festival, for gargantuan floods of people were vociferous; bothering. "My class-mates are noisy enough."

"Okay, shut up!" Professor Krwn lazily groused, acclimating his charcoal tie. His slacks were a traditional sapphire, while his shirt and trench-coat were a smooth, brimming azure. Huh, stylish. "Foaler's outside, ya brats."

"Oh, good." Wukong sardonically murmured to himself, still clicking his teeth as he flicked his crimson t-shirt and the V-neck sweater. "What's his name?"

"His name's Foaler Winsn."

I immediately identified the lane of the aristocrats' castles and mansions. Wukong and I grinned cheekily, remembering our rather baleful, childish game of Chase-The-Wukong.

"Something wrong?" Karasuu incredulously interrogated; bemused. He snapped his purple, ageless gaze towards Wukong and I, the latter, being me, chuckling. "Huh."

My mentor stepped through the path, inspecting the innumerable mansions. He huffed outwards; unimpressed, as he sauntered towards the ruler of the Srooa-Kingdom's palace's gates, sighing. "Krwn. Mage of telekinesis."

I instantly felt the boom of contorting, almost growling mana. Krwn summoned his mage I.D, swiping it through the atmosphere until the distortion dispelled. "Come on, kids. Welcome to the Skales' famous festival."

"Huh, I'm detecting a crowd of mana." Karasuu dryly mumbled; bewildered. His detection abilities were rather inferior - I guessed - to mine and Wukong's, from being a Death-Seeker. "I seldom feel them."

"Most of the citizens and nobles of the empire come to the palace for the festival." Foaler blithely informed; entertained. Our tour-guide's own scales slithered onto his neck; scintillating. "It's about the Antique-War."

"You're all hosting a festival for a 1,000 year old war?" I sarcastically groused, my soprano unimpressed, bland. Slipping my hands inside my pockets, I stepped through the path, humming. "A 1,000 year old war?"

"Some people deduced the war was never real." Karasuu unhelpfully informed. He snapped his fingers, summoning his glaive as his mana pulsed through the symbols. "I'm certain it was, still."

I granted the outside of the Srooa-Empire's ruler's palace's sector an interested, wan once-over. This place was brimming with people, stands for food and people playing their instruments, and selling mage-tools.

I detected Mr. Yorano's presence.

I channelled mana into my feet - and immediately flung myself forward, pirouetting inside the aerosphere as I dodged the citizens and mages. Settling onto the surface, I tapped my dagger, sighing. "Now, where is he?"

"Near my stand." Mr. Yorano casually chuckled; humoured. He sauntered towards me, his energy rippling through my connector in sphere form. Chuckling, he flicked it onto the table, summoning a pen. "You paid. It's yours."

"Sick, I can bounce into all the dimensions now?" I childishly grouched to myself; laughing. My mana canalized into the orb - as I felt the pulse of my mana dispersing. "Huh?"

"You need the connector to feel the realm's dimensional mana." Mr. Yorano blithely mumbled, his sapphire scales crawling back onto his shoulder-blades, his flesh contorting. "Hook your mana into the connector and feel."

My mana immediately echoed into the orb-connector. I felt for the Exia dimension's, well, dimensional-mana, as my connector's runes twinkled, almost shuddering. "This was simple, I guess."

"Certainly." Mr. Yorano gruffly chuckled, his rumbling, almost booming falsetto entertained. We heard the ripple of something similar to a bell groaning - or clinking. "Oh, we're being summoned."

"Summoned?"

"Queen Heuin Scalae is arriving for the festival. Come, Vasura."

Mr. Yorano and I both ambled through the brimming path of people - all sauntering over to the ruler of the Srooa-Kingdom. I canalized mana into my legs, until feeling a scaled-contortion. "No mana, Vasura."

Suspiring inwards, I exuded a clang of lifeless, pulseless mana - as my body floated through the path. Professor Krwn collapsed me onto the terrain; unentertained. "You going missing is your signature feature."

"Sure. Sure." I lazily retorted, slipping my connector back inside my pouch. Stepping into the crowd of my class-mates, I noticed the gargantuan arena - all outside Heuin's palace. "Huh..."

"Huh, indeed." Gaia's bland, cheeky falsetto murmured. She peeked over, inspecting the arena of the ruler's palace's arena, chuckling. "Damn, this place is large."

I detected a contortion inside Gaia's mana, feeling her feeling something. She flicked her ebony irises towards my pouch, still inspecting my own energy. "You connected to a connector?"

"Sounding complicated." I lackadaisically mumbled back; bemused. I never surmised an individual could feel the dimensional-mana inside a connector; impressive. "Still, yep."

"Damn, I was guessing you stole Krwn's." Gaia blandly chuckled; entertained. She sauntered back towards her squad of own class-mates, still laughing. "Heh."

Karasuu ambled over to me, the charcoal inside his gaze booming as his energy rippled through his glaive. Was he becoming addicted to his weapon? Concerning. "This is interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Never seen the ruler of a kingdom." Karasuu blithely shrugged, his signature, scientific soprano unbothered. He slipped his hands into his pockets, noticing the sapphire fluorescence from my pouch. "New tool?"

Were people going to be bothering me for the connector?

"Connector, orb edition." I dryly laughed. My mana pulsed through my fingers as I hooked up the connector to my centre - feeling my control over the dimensional-device warp; growing. "You wanna buy one?"

"Perhaps." Karasuu cryptically murmured. He slid a silky, glossy finger through his cheek, settling into one of the innumerable seats of the palace's, grandiose, outside arena. "It's time."

I glanced towards the moderately gargantuan gates - as a platoon of guards, and mages, all sauntered into the arena, their scales crawling through their flesh. They collapsed to a deferential, inscrutable knee; bowing.

"Bow to the ruler of Srooa!"

Huffing inwards, I instantly toppled onto a docile, civil knee, eyeing the citizens, my class-mates, and mages kneeling. The platoon slid back up to their heartless, pitiless statures, humming. "Stand! Mages and citizens!"

The ruler of the Srooa-Kingdom's complexion was blank, yet still gentle. Her gait was aimful, fitting for a ruler. I chuckled to myself, feeling cliche. Her scales slipped through her neck, her irises, and hair cyan.

"Huh." Wukong blithely grouched; bemused. I raised a puzzled, bewildered eye-brow, puzzlement rippling through my tongue. He stepped into his chair, summoning his signature, favourite staff. "I'm hungry."

I disregarded him, glancing back over to the guards: who all strode into the gates, their scales stretching as they swallowed up the terrain. Huh, according to Karasuu, they could feel what the scales detected.

Foaler immediately slipped onto the surface, summoning his scaled-rapier - as he gashed the concrete, controlling the atmosphere until forming a balcony, chairs, and table. He stored all this inside his centre? Baffling.

"Incredible." Karasuu murmured to himself; impressed. He flicked his interested, purple irises towards Foaler's scaled-blade; its scales scintillating, shuddering. "Osiris, you gave him a nick-name?"

"Oh? Indeed, the glacial-incarnation." Osiris lackadaisically retorted. His novel page's flittered until he tapped the paper's brimming material, sighing. "He was prodigious enough to almost freeze another kingdom."

"He can use water." 

"Certainly." Osiris blandly concurred, slipping his interesting and - perhaps - thrilling novel back into his bag. He leaned into his chair, his sweltering, crimson gaze inspecting Foaler's energy. "It comes from his blade."

"He was rather accurate in his guess." My class-mate monotonously complimented, tapping the arm-rests of his chair. Osiris contorted the atmosphere, summoning an empty, glossy cup. "Almost accurate."

"Who?"

"Ah, sorry it's personal." Osiris wanly retorted, distorting the aerosphere itself until creating a ripple of water. The liquid sank into his cup - as it slipped through his lackadaisical, bland lips. "Khonsu is more adept at this."

I ignored Karasuu and Osiris' blethering of our tour-guide's multiple mana-types. Still, using more than one mana-type was never something unnatural, it was natural. "Raiqen and Lilih can use two."

Foaler - or the glacial-incarnation - stepped towards the flood of mages and citizens, his soprano booming, gentle. He twirled his blade, slipping it back into its scabbard. "The Antique-War changed our empire's morality!"

"Our ancestors gave their children, our own ancestors, the message to be serene, no longer wage war!"

"Generation for generation!" Foaler charismatically boomed, his falsetto creaking, shuddering. His scales slipped onto his neck, their complexion itself glistering. "We were safe! People must be 17 to learn the craft of the mage."

"Karasuu. Could a kingdom keep up peace for 1,000 years?" I incredulously grouched; bewildered. It was incredible - for they stopped waging wars. Still, it was bemusing. "Who keeps them in check."

"The one who obliterated, no slaughtered, both sides."

"Huh?"

The festival was still rather interesting. This kingdom was indeed peerless in granting its audience entertainment, from spells of humour, to their cryptic weapons.

Foaler sauntered back into the arena, his scales sliding onto his fingers, similarly to gloves. They rotated until he flicked a lollipop into his languid, dry mouth. "Now, it's time for our international mage battling!"

"My good colleague Krwn is allowing his students from spectral-academy to battle!"

Professor Krwn straightened himself up, bowing. He hopped inside the arena, ignoring the elated vociferations of the citizens and mages. "It's him."

"Now, for the tournament and the students fighting for spectral."

This was bemusing.

Krwn stepped towards the section of the arena, inspecting his students: who all scanned him, interested. He tapped his clip-board, eyeing the names inside the box.

Keen eyes watched.