The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - 9. Chapter 4 Temperance

Temperance: Coordination, Cooperation, Management, and Adaptation.

In the dim hallway, I rested on a pile of squid remains, watching that Snow kneel down to collect the adamantine cores--really, I should come up with something other than just "that Snow" to call him.

I'd thought of asking his name a few times, but even if he had any intention of replying, I lacked the courage to reveal my own identity first, making me give up every time. And now the tip of my tail had started to itch again.

"I should be heading back. Otherwise, the others will worry." I stood, confirming that I could easily extend my consciousness and navigate the domain. "You're not planning to keep it all to yourself, are you?" I joked, but the Snow's response was a baring of his canines in a grin that made my mouth twitch. "Half. No more," he shrugged. I optimistically took it as agreement.

I found Ariadne's thread on the ground, relieved that the engravings were still clear.

"Anyway," I said, bowing slightly after moving to stand beside him. "Thank you for your help; otherwise, I might've been stuck here a long time." If he hadn't taken the tower's pressure off me with his domain, I had no idea how long I'd have needed to rest to regain the strength to return.

That Snow didn't respond to my gratitude, so I turned, preparing to follow Ariadne's thread back out. Just as I lifted my foot, I sensed a small, light object tossed my way from the edge of my domain.

Compact and featherweight, encased in a thin, high-polymer film.

I reached out along its predicted trajectory, catching a small, silver-wrapped ration bar.

"Oh," I recognized it as a compressed ration, something some tower climbers carried, given how energy-intensive maintaining extended consciousness was. "Thanks."

I called out to that Snow's back, but he just waved a paw dismissively and continued digging through the squid remains, using his serrated dagger to pry out adamantine cores.

I wasn't particularly hungry, and the main gate was only two floors away, so I slipped the ration into my pocket, following Ariadne's thread toward the exit and pondering what the recent events might have revealed about the Tower.

First, the Tower's "height" probably couldn't be measured merely by counting the floors crossed. It made sense upon reflection since the altimeter was originally designed to assess domain strength.

Also, while it's unclear what happens when multiple complete adamantine weapons are present, a complete adamantine weapon can stabilize the Tower's manifested appearance.

So, did meeting that Snow indicate that we entered overlapping structures? Or was it some effect of Tel'aran'rhiod influencing the physical plane?

I slipped my paw into my pocket, gripping the ration bar.

Maybe I should find a few trustworthy sources to consult?

After all, information about the Tower isn't something that can usually be bought, no matter how many points you have. But after dealing with the Alchemy faction, I've started forming some ideas.

Ideas that maybe I've gained a more profound insight into the nature of transactions.

The ring-shaped archway at the Tower side had several stone steps of the same material, giving footing to those attempting to cross.

Having traveled the route many times, I didn't waste time hesitating, stepping through the archway's twisted mirror-like membrane to return to the Academy.

"Richter!" Tanaka senpai looked greatly relieved when he saw me. "Are you alright?" The Thomson's gazelle walked up the slope, looking me up and down with a flickering gaze.

"Not a scratch." I reassured him, not wanting him to feel guilty. Honestly, if they'd stayed, they would've just been in the way. "And you? Any trouble leaving?"

"A kohai slipped on the stairs, but nothing major," Tanaka senpai said, then joined me in explaining the latest developments to Mr. Cape, who handled the contract closure and Tanaka senpai's extra overtime fees.

After parting with the Thomson's gazelle, I headed to the cafeteria, determined to quickly satisfy my basic needs, complete my tasks with maximum efficiency, and then take a direct route back to the loving embrace of my bed.

So I ordered an energy gel at the cafeteria terminal--a foil-wrapped gel that contains all the calories and nutrients for one meal. It's popular among cadets looking to save time or point, though long-term use can harm the digestive system, leading to mucus membrane damage and reduced gastrointestinal motility.

"Vanguard's members were rushing around the halls frantically," a familiar deep voice said beside me as a tall figure approached. "Anyone not in the know might think you did something spectacular in the Tower."

"Please, no more rumors." I sighed, realizing I'd subconsciously folded my arms across my chest. "We only climbed two flights, and then we were suddenly in the fiftieth, facing a swarm of squids." I briefly explained the situation, and the Altai wapiti listened while ordering at the terminal. "By the way, did you know that a complete adamantine weapon can stabilize the Tower's appearance?"

"Oh, I've heard similar rumors," Kotetsu senpai mused, tapping his chin. "Generally, they say that a complete adamantine weapon is the true key to the Tower, able to unlock specific areas. Meanwhile, the 'keys' the Academy provides are closer to hacking tools, allowing access to random locations in an unstable state."

"So what happens if there are two or more complete adamantine weapons at once?" I pictured two keys trying to fit into a single lock.

"There are so few holders of complete adamantine weapons that I haven't heard of such a case," he replied.

"Hasn't anyone been curious enough to try it?" I asked, but he just shrugged. I had to accept that not everyone is willing to risk "horrific accidents" for the sake of knowledge. "And what about floor height jumping like that? Even if the Tower's structure changes, it should follow certain rules, right?"

"I don't know," the Altai wapiti shook his head lightly. "All I can say is that the domain strengthens the higher the floor, but the specifics are unclear."

"Hm..." I couldn't hide my disappointment, hoping for at least some insight or a theory. "Thanks. I'll ask around more."

"You faced the fiftieth-floor squid swarm alone and came out unscathed." Kotetsu senpai finished his order and reattached the terminal to his arm. "How did you manage that?"

"Technically, I wasn't 'alone.'" I patted the hilt of Gray Snow, who pulsed back with a steady resonance. "I picked a narrow hallway to funnel the squids, then used resonance for a sweeping strike, mowing them down in one go."

"That must've been quite a haul," Altai wapiti remarked. "Did you count how many there were?"

"A little over thirty, but I didn't count exactly." I tilted my head, realizing it might've been good to keep track. But that Snow wouldn't cheat me; he could handle a horde alone without resorting to tricks.

"Complete adamantine weapons..." Kotetsu senpai murmured, glancing at my longsword.

"Do you always use the Academy-issued ones?" I knew that most climbers rented weapons crafted by Master Tartarus, the primary source of adamantine weaponry for Tower climbers.

"The Federation has a few within the Academy, and I'm on the authorized list." His tone turned almost muttering as he eyed the energy gel in my paw. "But I can never get used to them."

I knew Kotetsu senpai, like other herbivores, always climbed the Tower in teams, so his records weren't particularly notable for floor height.

"If you could forge one, what style would you choose?" I pictured a few blade types steeped in Federation traditions but held back from assuming.

"Dreaming about such impractical things is pointless. I nearly failed the Basics of Dominate-Smithing." His tone turned irritated, making me instinctively lower my ears and snout, looking down. "When I applied to the beginner course this year, Master Tartarus even hinted I should reconsider."

After a moment, perhaps realizing his tone, he sighed and resumed.

"And you?" He gestured to Gray Snow. "Why choose a longsword?"

"Mainly because it fits well--the length and flexibility match my needs and style." I twisted off the gel cap and took a long sip. "In hindsight, maybe some sense of identity drew me to it," I joked, earning no reaction from Kotetsu senpai. Gray Snow, however, pulsed with a steady rhythm.

"What did the fiftieth floor look like?" Kotetsu senpai asked, and I described the environment, particularly the gray-striped wall patterns. He listened intently, occasionally checking his order status on the terminal.

"Oh, time to go." I disposed of the empty package, bidding Kotetsu senpai farewell. "I need some rest; today was exhausting."

"Hey," he called out as I paused, tilting my head and folding down my right ear. "Did you look at the material I sent you?"

"Yeah," I scratched my now-warm ear, trying to respond vaguely. "Just...some parts I don't fully...uh, understand." Talking about this here felt odd, even if no one else could understand our topic.

"Then perhaps we could find some time for a proper 'explanation,'" Altai wapiti tilted his head, giving me a sidelong glance. "After all, we do need to go over the finer details if you're agreeable," he added finally.

"Uh..." I was pretty sure no one was paying attention to us--after all, I'd just checked the area--but I still couldn't stop the flush of heat rising to my ears. "Sure."

"All right, then." With that, Altai wapiti went to retrieve his meal, while I tried my best to head toward the kitchen sliding door without looking as if I were escaping.

When I returned to the room, Tadao had just come out of the bathroom, his freshly dried fur looking slightly fluffier.

"I heard about your heroic deeds," he said, pulling down the towel hanging from his antlers while rummaging through his closet. "Holding off a hundred enemies on your own."

"There were only about thirty squids at the time," I said, while watching Tadao stretching the neckline of the undershirt and slipping his legs into it. I'd seen him do this many times, but it always amused me. "Besides, I was blocking a narrow opening, using the terrain to my advantage." For some reason, an image of Kotetsu putting on his shirt in the same way flashed through my mind. I shook my head hard, forcing myself to focus on guiding the stream of water through the sink pipes, beginning my quick five-second wash routine.

"That's still pretty selfless." Tadao, now dressed, adjusted his fur at the top of his head in front of the mirror, as if checking the skin around where it met his antlers.

"But I was confident I could handle the situation." Having practiced in dreams beforehand, I could make quick decisions--otherwise, those squids, with their agile direction changes, would have easily broken through my defenses. "I never felt like my situation was anything to worry about, so does that even count as 'selflessness'?" After draining the used water into the sink, I stepped over to the closet to change into lighter clothing and prepare to rest.

"I think motivation and results both matter," Tadao replied, and as I climbed onto my bed, I realized he was still looking at me. "Going to sleep this early?"

"I'm a bit tired." As if to confirm my own words, I immediately yawned.

He shrugged without saying more, walked over to the control panel near the door, and turned off the main lights.

Once I lay down, I adjusted my position so my fur could spread comfortably beneath me.

I closed my eyes, relaxing my body, but sleep didn't come as easily as I expected.

I was sure I was exhausted, but perhaps my body clock was rebelling against this irregular schedule. And I had no desire to reflect on Kotetsu's earlier suggestion or to analyze clues about the mysterious Tower in this state.

Tadao's subtle movements reached my ears, and instinctively, I turned my ears in his direction. That deliberate gentleness made the sounds somehow... softer.

Opening my eyes, I stared at the white ceiling. His elongated shadow cast by the desk lamp extended forward, shifting between light and dark with each of his movements, a haze of changing shadows.

Turning my head, I glanced at Tadao's bed frame, where there were faint scratch marks--the oxidized lines a reminder from when we first moved in last year.

"Last time, you only mentioned that your father was a psychic, right?" I said, watching his shadow pause.

Last time, he'd spent most of the conversation venting, not actually sharing much about himself, probably just needing an outlet at the time.

"Yes." After a pause, he answered. From the sound of his joints popping and the rustling of fabric, I guessed he was stretching. "That father who's never home, with no free time to even talk to me."

"It's a bit hard for me to imagine that." I spoke in an even tone. "Not the absence itself, but that it feels natural for there to be 'someone who should be there.'" I gently touched my chest, feeling a bit of relief. "As long as I can remember, I've lived among wolves, always sharing a room with five other wolves." Of course, that wasn't a part of my past I wanted to share in detail. "What about you?"

"Only child," Tadao replied. "An empty mansion was the norm for me." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Though it wasn't always like that."

He fell silent, save for a steady tapping sound, like nails drumming against a tabletop.

"Too young at the time, I never understood why the fights that never ceased only grew louder and louder." Tadao continued, "It wasn't until I was older, able to grasp more complex concepts, that I realized I was the product of a political marriage, a mere contract for my father's rise into the elite. In all those grand gatherings, I played the dutiful son, allowing dignitaries to pat my head approvingly." The tapping stopped, replaced by a faint sound of fur rubbing. "Looking back, it's rather pathetic. Only in those rare moments, beneath dim lights and buoyant music, would we sit and talk, pretending to be a family for the guests around us. Even though I knew that as soon as the music stopped and the party ended, the illusions would shatter, leaving the mansion feeling cold and empty once more." His tone didn't change noticeably, but I sensed a subtle tremor in the air. "And yet, when everyone wore their masks and played their roles, it was the only time we were allowed to come close. Only in those fleeting moments did it feel like I was needed, and maybe, if I behaved well enough, they'd be proud of me."

Perhaps I hadn't experienced it firsthand, but the loneliness and longing in Tadao's words were so familiar, I could easily feel the emotions beneath his detached recounting.

"After a few years, whether due to exceptional social skills or my mother's influential family name, my father finally reached a point where he no longer had to keep playing the game. The parties of deals and schemes became less frequent. My mother stopped attending, eventually moving back to her own family, and I was no longer required to make an appearance." Tadao let out a faint laugh. "Or maybe it was just that the mascot lost its charm once it grew up."

"So what does your father do? I can understand the concept of political marriages, but I'm not quite sure what kind of field would require such arrangements in a federation, where lineage and background supposedly have less impact on one's career. Then again, maybe nepotism is the same everywhere in the solar system—it's just me who doesn't get it.

"Federation Navy." Tadao answered without hesitation, making me suspect he'd already rehearsed how to respond if we ever talked about this. "They all call him 'the Brigadier General,'" he said with a dry chuckle. "I'm not even sure if that's a compliment, since the first person to use it was a jealous colleague annoyed by his record-breaking promotion rate."

"So..." I mentally updated my knowledge as I recalled past conversations with Tadao. "Is that why you're so familiar with the Altai wapiti faction?"

"Yes." Tadao sighed, barely audibly. "A few dinners, a few conversations--none of which were particularly pleasant memories."

"Mm." I responded, recalling some scenes from the Tree Hall.

"My father was always working, stationed somewhere or attending some logistics meeting, so there was barely any chance to meet. When we did, it was brief and formal, as if it were some sort of social obligation." The tapping resumed, less rhythmic this time, as if he were tapping aimlessly. "My mother, meanwhile, lived out her end of the 'contract' with full dedication. It wasn't until I had the chance to visit other people's homes that I realized a family is supposed to eat together, to..." He paused, as if a heartbeat skipped. "...laugh together."

A contract, huh...

I wondered if those wolves sent to live among the pedigrees were living the same kind of life.

"Mostly raised by the mansion staff, I'm probably closer to them, honestly. But after my mother left, she took them all with her, and my father had no intention of hiring replacements. So, that cavernous house, echoing with only my own voice, took up much of my life." The sound of cloth shifting followed as Tadao stood up and turned off the desk lamp. "When we spoke a few days ago, he actually said he was glad I would have the opportunity to contribute to the Federation's goal and looked forward to my future performance. He didn't even have the time to see me off last year, not even a farewell." Tadao scoffed, the sound more weary than angry. "The scary part is, the thought of him being proud of me actually makes me feel a bit of pride."

After a while, he didn't continue. I lifted my head slightly and saw him wrapping a few velvets of felt over the tips of his antlers.

"I think it's natural to want approval, especially from those you care about," I said softly, recalling my own brief attempts to blend into the pack before eventually giving up. "But no matter how strong that desire is, I don't think you should lose yourself over it." I rolled onto my side, covering my thigh with my tail as I combed through the fur at the tip. "That would defeat the purpose."

"You really are quite a unique wolf." Tadao's comment made me chuckle. As he climbed the ladder to his bed, I considered how to respond.

"I'd say it's more like the strategy of a wolf cast out of the pack, just trying to survive." Tugging at the fur at the end of my tail, I summoned a faint pain and the memories that went with it. "Nobody likes being the odd one out."

"Oh, sorry." Tadao sounded slightly hesitant, as if choosing his words carefully. "Maybe it's because we herbivores don't like standing out too much, but you do seem... unique."

"Aren't we all? We're all different." I turned onto my back, feeling the corners of my mouth lift uncontrollably. "I'm different from you, and you're different from him. Every one of us is so distinctly different." I stretched my right paw upward, spreading my fingers wide. "But I think it's precisely because everyone is different that our differences become the very thing we share." Closing my eyes, I could easily summon that image, feeling the gentle, fleeting touch of each snowflake grazing my fingertips. "Just like... the endless snowfall."

"'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.'" Master Tartarus paced in a circle at the center of the lecture hall, where a massive, projected fireball slowly rose beside him. "This was the first use of a large-scale destructive weapon. Some believe it triggered an unstoppable chain reaction toward the end of the world." He snapped his fingers, freezing the projection in place. The details were so vivid it felt as if the scorching heat, powerful enough to consume everything, could be felt against our skin. "Others, however, argue that the principle of mutually assured destruction was the key factor in laying the foundation for the peace that followed for centuries." The black wolf scanned the hall, making a welcoming gesture. "Thoughts?"

"If it could swiftly end a prolonged war, wouldn't that be more efficient overall?" said a Wood. A few heads turned to look at him. "So perhaps this kind of destructive weapon contributed more to peace than it threatened it."

"But does it still seem acceptable if the weapon's target is civilians?" The master pressed him further.

"If the state of war drags on too long, civilians are bound to die anyway." The Wood shrugged. "Being vaporized instantly has to be better than dying slowly from starvation, exposure, or disease."

"That's assuming this kind of mass destruction truly leads to peace talks! And what about those who aren't so 'lucky' to be vaporized on the spot?" A red deer retorted, his voice laced with anger that echoed around the hall, drawing my attention to other herbivores who, though hiding their emotions, clearly looked unsettled. "The decision to surrender was largely due to the unbearable strain of multi-front combat and related logistical issues." The red deer cast a sharp glance at that Wood. "And we haven't even discussed the second bombing at Nagasaki, which was completely unnecessary!"

"It seems someone has done their homework," Tartarus cut in, halting the Wood's response. The brown wolf flattened his ears and lowered his snout after a quick look at the master. "We'll come back to the ethical questions later."

I noticed the black wolf's golden eyes glance my way, and my ears instinctively perked up. He smiled at me, making it clear that he wasn't going to let me shrink away.

"What do you think, Richter?" he asked, his tone indicating genuine curiosity. "Any thoughts?"

"I'd say these are methods and means with their own benefits and drawbacks in different circumstances," I replied slowly, gradually adjusting to the weight of all those eyes studying me intently. "But if I were to interpret the motives behind deploying a weapon of mass destruction in this scenario as a means for peace--I wouldn't buy it."

"Oh?" Master Tartarus raised one eyebrow, his tail rising and swaying slowly from side to side. "How would you see it, then?"

"Victory," I said evenly, the word escaping my mouth in a calm tone. "They did it because they wanted to win. Just because a war ends doesn't mean there's truly peace." Tilting my head, I decided to clarify my point. "And if peace were genuinely the ultimate goal, then dropping the bomb on their own soil could've achieved the same result."

After finishing, I glanced up at the master.

Perhaps it was because they needed time to digest my words, but shortly after Tartarus broke into laughter, the room erupted in a clamor of raised voices expressing opinions and others firing sharp rebuttals. The master, however, was clearly too amused to stop the rapidly escalating debate from descending into intense arguments.

After a moment, he seemed to regain his composure, wiping the corners of his eyes before snapping his fingers. A powerful pulse emanated from him, silencing the hall immediately.

My fur bristled in response to the pulse, and I was instantly reminded that Master Tartarus ranked above Qana in psychic level.

"An interesting perspective," the black wolf remarked, narrowing his golden eyes. "And what about the practical benefits of mutually assured destruction for peace?"

"A malicious excuse, or a poorly conceived fantasy that can't withstand scrutiny," I replied. I briefly considered toning it down but found myself encouraged by the master's hearty laughter earlier, letting my words flow freely. "If it were truly 'mutual' assured destruction, there wouldn't be things like 'Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons'--they'd be ensuring everyone had access to weapons of mass destruction."

This comment stirred up an even stronger reaction, though this time the responses seemed more aligned.

"What about terrorists gaining access to weapons of mass destruction?" someone asked.

"So you mean to say that only 'we' know the 'proper' way to use weapons of mass destruction?" I replied calmly, wondering if the previously divided individuals realized they had now taken the same side. I couldn't help but wonder what they envisioned as the 'proper' way to wield such a destructive force. "Are 'we' in the right simply because no one can oppose us?" Clenching my fist, I recalled the ferocious power of that miniature star.

"But if everyone had access to such weapons, wouldn't that drastically increase the risk of a world-ending accident?" another voice cautiously posed.

"Isn't it a bit late to worry about these things after deciding to build and drop the atomic bomb?" I released my fist, continuing. But at that moment, I felt a strange, unsettling sensation stirring deep in my chest.

I didn't participate in the discussion that followed; that unsettling feeling distracted me. I tried to look inward, attempting to understand what was happening, but the source of the tumult lay buried too deep to reach, leaving me with nothing.

When I came back to my senses, the discussion had moved on to moral philosophy, touching on moral permissibility, utilitarianism, and the doctrine of double effect. I listened quietly, trying to find some sliver of hope in the perspectives shared.

After class, I rose to pack my things like everyone else, ready to leave. At that moment, Master Tartarus lightly touched the edge of my consciousness.

"Master," I approached the black wolf, flattening my ears and lowering my snout toward the ground.

"Field has been complaining to me about Senate quite a bit lately, that why are you so..." The master tilted his head, pausing briefly. "Allow me to use a more refined term rather than resorting to anatomical references--'lacking in resolve.'"

I tilted my head, folding my right ear, hoping for more explanation--Apart from anatomical metaphors.

"I don't want to critique the methods of other faction too much," he said, flicking his tail to the left, which said enough. "I was a bit worried that unpleasant experiences in your early years might have a negative impact on you." I forced myself to look at his teeth as he spoke, but the increasingly uncomfortable feeling made me want to look away. "But from what I saw today, it doesn't seem to be an issue," he said, raising a hand nonchalantly, which only confused me more.

"Master, do you mean...?" Continuing with these vague hints was getting us nowhere, so I decided to ask directly.

"Awareness, Richter," the black wolf smiled, as if only now realizing I hadn't understood him. "The awareness of a strong one." He shrugged. "At least it's the first step."

"Awareness?" I tried to recall various parts of the lesson, worried I might have missed something important while I was distracted.

"Asking a question you already know the answer to is rather illogical behavior--unless you're trying to emphasize a specific point," the master said in a mildly reproachful tone, making my ears instinctively flatten further, even though I still didn't fully grasp his meaning.

With no outward gesture, Master Tartarus suddenly set up some kind of barrier, enclosing us within it. If not for the faint shift in the shadows around us, I might have missed the almost invisible structure, so delicate that even in the realm of consciousness, it left hardly a ripple.

"Qana is fine; you don't need to worry. He's too important to the Senate. At most, those old wolves will just tell him to reflect and temporarily ground him. The Council has also decided not to pursue any charges against him for privately training you." I hadn't expected this topic from the master, leaving me momentarily speechless, so I listened on. "So just enjoy your time at the Academy and focus on making some trouble." He winked his right eye at me, his tone playful.

"Thank you for your concern, Master." I bowed my head, grateful, letting him know I understood his underlying message.

"That said, don't get too relaxed," he said, his worried tone making me look up and meet his gaze. "Obvious malice is rarely the most dangerous; it can be seen and anticipated. What's truly deadly often hides beneath goodwill--those who care only about their own goals." The black wolf's golden eyes glanced at me before turning away, sweeping over others as they left in small groups. "I suspect you've caught the attention of someone very dangerous, but I don't want to alert them until we have more concrete evidence." He returned his gaze to me, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You must act carefully. And if you ever need help, don't hesitate to seek it from someone you trust."

"Yes, Master," I bowed again. "I understand."

"Do you really understand? From your recent actions, it doesn't seem so," he tilted his head, giving me a sidelong look.

"Yes, I understand," I replied, beginning to sweat and very much hoping he wouldn't bring up any specific "actions"--I could think of a few that would be embarrassing.

"You better be. I don't want to incur Qana's wrath." He relaxed, sighed, and stood up, releasing the barrier. "If you have any issues, feel free to reach out to me anytime." After showing me his unique contact pulse, he waved and left.

I bowed as he departed, watching as Nyx walked away with the graceful gait of flowing darkness.

"I'd guess you're one of those 'teacher's pet' types, huh?" Kotetsu senpai appeared from nowhere, nudging my shoulder teasingly. "Seeing it in person is kind of funny."

"I don't see a problem with showing respect to someone more capable," I said, grabbing my bag and walking out of the lecture hall with him.

"I thought carnivores valued strength," the Altai wapiti shrugged. "So I assumed you were just being polite."

"Uh... those don't have to conflict," I said, scratching my ear, feeling somewhat conflicted by his perception. "Besides, Master Tartarus's abilities are definitely above mine."

"I get where you're coming from," Kotetsu senpai replied. "But haven't you checked the psychic strength rankings?"

"Not really," I admitted. I'd glanced at it last year when I found out it existed, so I knew Qana was ranked ninth among active psychics, while Master Tartarus was seventh, but I hadn't looked at it since--just like any other Academy rankings.

"Your ranking is third, only below Master Sunflare and Field," Kotetsu senpai said, waving to a passing pair of antelopes.

"Huh, really?" I felt more bemusement than anxiety, maybe finally getting used to this sort of thing. "How is that even calculated? It seems like it's just inflated nonsense."

"Some rankings and statistics might indulge curiosity or entertainment, but the psychic strength ranking isn't like that; its parameters are based on known facts and accomplishments, all with verifiable sources." Kotetsu senpai said, scrolling on his terminal before handing it over to me.

I quickly skimmed it, feeling the urge to stop at the phrase "as powerful as a star" but forced myself to continue.

"'Fusion reaction control' really gets a high score," I muttered, scrolling past "possesses (suspected complete) adamantine weapon" and "Dominion core count of at least thirty thousand." But seeing "carnivore who passed Basic Mental Wave Construction and Waveform Analysis" made me feel a bit smug, even if the score was somewhat low.

"What it took both Master Sunflare and Field to achieve, you managed on your own." Kotetsu senpai clapped my shoulder, almost making me jump. "Feigning humility just annoys people, you know?"

"It was just a confinement, and I passed out during it anyway..." I mumbled, but the Altai wapiti, like everyone else, didn't seem willing to accept that obvious fact.

I'm not the type of wolf who feels uncomfortable with praise--okay, maybe a bit--but the point is, the praise should at least be accurate, or it just feels like mindless flattery! Ugh, I don't want to be bothered by something so trivial!

"What did you and the master talk about? He seemed pleased." Kotetsu senpai's assertion made me suspect he might not be great at reading the body language of wolves, or maybe he just didn't mind saying flattering things. "I'm aiming to pass the beginner course of Dominate-Smithing this year, so if you have any tips on impressing Master Tartarus, I could really use them." The Altai wapiti flicked his ear, looking a bit sheepish.

I remembered " Dominate-Smithing " was shorthand for "Dominion Applied Smithing System," a course open only to psychics proficient in Dominion. Almost no one completed the entire program's requirements; supposedly, this was because Master Tartarus was notoriously strict and unyielding.

But Master Field told me that the real reason was the lack of psychics with the necessary talent, and that it was normal for few people to pass. And once I was ready, he promised to show me the essence of this art.

"It's mainly about the Senate," I said, not wanting to give senpai the impression I had any sort of shortcut. "The master was just... passing along a message."

The Altai wapiti shrugged at this rough explanation without pressing further, but he didn't look entirely convinced.

Luckily, while we waited for the transport pods, we met a small group of herbivores who seemed to be familiar with Kotetsu senpai, and they chatted enthusiastically until we entered the cafeteria and went our separate ways.

"Feel free to eat meat," Kotetsu senpai said abruptly, catching me off guard as I was trying to decide what to order. I looked at him, surprised. "You don't need to worry about things like that when it's just me around."

"Oh, okay." I scratched my ear, unsure if he genuinely felt that way or just wanted me to feel at ease. "Uh... thanks."

"It's nothing." He turned his head, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. "After all, I've already eaten your..."

"Chargrilled pork ribs!" I blurted out loudly, drawing confused stares from those around us, including a few herbivores who looked on with particular disdain.

Ignoring my burning ears, I went up to the terminal to order, determined not to lift my gaze.

Once we finally settled into a corner seat, I felt like I could breathe a sigh of relief.

"I thought you were the kind of 'progressive' who wouldn't mind things like this," the Altai wapiti said, clearly unwilling to let me off the hook. He slowly coiled a sprig of alfalfa around his chopsticks, slipping it into his mouth in a suggestive, almost sensual way.

"Not minding what others do and not wanting to do it myself are two different things," I retorted, rolling my eyes. Kotetsu senpai was dramatic--had he always been like this, or was I only now noticing? "And please, stop playing with your food."

"Okay, but," the Altai wapiti leaned in close, his snout near mine, and murmured, "didn't you already show your belly to me?"

There was a crunch as I bit down hard on a rib bone, snapping it. I only realized what I'd done when my teeth hit the metal fork. Kotetsu senpai chuckled, clearly amused by my stiff, flustered reaction.

"You really don't handle jokes well," the Altai wapiti clicked his tongue, mocking me, then leaned back in his seat.

I didn't have much to counter with, so I just snorted in response, spitting out bits of bone and slicing another rib with my knife.

"Are you sure you don't want to try some venison?" Though his tone and expression were casual, I could sense a hidden meaning in Kotetsu senpai's question.

"I wouldn't say no." I stammered, but answered honestly, "If there's a chance... maybe I could... try it next time." The instant the Altai wapiti's lips curled upward, a warm flush spread through my ears again.

"No more teasing," Kotetsu senpai said with a shrug. "Or we won't get through this meal."

"You're finally catching on." I shot back, exasperated, chewing the remaining meat clean off the bone.

"Just remember to save some room." He rose to retrieve our other dishes, leaving me to suppress a frustrated growl bubbling up my throat.

I decided to cut the rest of the ribs in advance to avoid another accidental bone-crunching incident. Just as I finished, a black-and-white figure approached.

"We need to talk." Hemp senpai's voice was low.

I greeted him with a flick of my ear and glanced at Tadao, standing beside him. The red deer's gaze wandered, his hand moving in and out of his pocket, looking uneasy.

"Oh, alright." I adjusted the tableware, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.

"No, not now." The border collie scanned the cafeteria and then locked eyes with me again. "When Kotetsu isn't around."

"Oh..." His clipped tone and demeanor made me feel off-kilter.

Was something wrong?

I looked at Tadao for a hint, but he only avoided my gaze.

"Contact me when the situation allows," Hemp senpai demonstrated a subtle gesture for a different contact signal. "As soon as possible."

"If it's that urgent, I could just..." I began, only to be cut off by Hemp senpai's gesture.

"Stick to your usual schedule--whatever that is." He waved me off, and I shot Tadao a slightly reproachful look. The red deer scratched the spot where his skin met his antlers, avoiding my eyes again. "Avoiding unnecessary attention is the top priority."

After I indicated my understanding, Hemp senpai left with Tadao. I stabbed a chunk of meat, deep in thought about what could be so secretive. But at the Academy, the answer was probably "everything." Rumor had it that once cadets finished training and after deployment phase, those vying for Council seats engaged in even more dangerous games, making these pre-graduation squabbles seem like child's play.

Just as I was about to dismiss my musings, something Master Tartarus said about not "alert them" slipped into my mind.

Could these things be connected?

I turned just in time to see Kotetsu senpai returning.

Yes, they probably were.

But... why was this Altai wapiti making them so nervous?

Based on what Master Tartarus seemed to know... uh... about that matter, it looked like the black wolf and Hemp senpai were in the same faction, with Tadao as a member too. So, it must be the "Fool," a mysterious faction known for their low-profile operations. Despite being one of the founding factions, few knew much about their deeds.

Still, Master Tartarus was an immensely powerful psychic. There was no way he'd call Kotetsu senpai, a Beta-level herbivore, a "someone very dangerous," right?

So maybe this convoluted mystery had nothing to do with Kotetsu senpai at all and was just my paranoia flaring up. But if that were the case, I had no idea who else it could refer to!

It was maddening; I hated being tangled up in this kind of baseless paranoia!

"Is something wrong?" The Altai wapiti asked as he sat down, placing our bowls of soup on the table. "You don't look well."

"It's nothing." I shook my head, refusing to let pointless thoughts weigh me down. "Just something Master Tartarus mentioned before."

It was kind of true, I thought.

"Bad news from home?" Kotetsu senpai asked with concern.

"It's good news, technically, but I'm basically... helpless." I chose my words cautiously. "So... it feels terrible being unable to do anything."

"Every family has its struggles." He replied quietly, sipping his soup.

"What about your family, senpai? Are they well?" I recalled that people in the Federation often inquired about each other's families, so this shouldn't be crossing any lines.

"Nothing too special." The Altai wapiti shrugged. "Ours is a traditional Federation family. Since I'm the second son and can't inherit the family business, it's expected that I stand on my own early. I spend more time reporting to my superior officer than talking to family."

"Oh, I see." As if I actually understood.

"Some people are just more bound by their past." He set down a bowl, his tone distant. "Since you brought it up--what you said in class, did you mean it?" The Altai wapiti looked up, meeting my gaze. "It wasn't just to stir up debate, right?"

"Yeah, I was serious." I answered slowly, gathering my thoughts and pushing my food into a small pile on my plate. "I know it sounds strange, but I really mean it."

After a pause, with no response from him, I felt a bit awkward and kept shoveling food into my mouth mechanically.

"I don't think it sounds strange," he finally said, tracing the edge of his plate with his fingertips.

I slowed my chewing, angling my ears toward him to show I was listening.

"I've always believed that outcomes matter more than intentions--benefits above all else." The Altai wapiti tapped his fingernails against the table, staring at his plate for a while before picking up his chopsticks again. "If killing a million civilians could bring peace, I wouldn't blink at carrying out that order."

"But... that would be a war crime, wouldn't it?" I replied as gently as I could, a chill running through me at the thought of a military officer-to-be holding such views.

"'War crimes' are reserved for the losers." I couldn't tell if it was my imagination, but Kotetsu senpai bared his teeth when he said that.

I didn't know how to respond, but I felt like I'd learned more about herbivores today.

"Anyway," perhaps noticing his slip, Kotetsu senpai cleared his throat and returned to a normal posture. "Your words really struck me."

"Couldn't understand it?" I asked. He just gave a soft laugh and a slight shake of his head without elaborating. After a while, realizing he wasn't going to explain, I continued my own thoughts. "It just seems strange to me to draw lines between 'us' and 'them'." I curled my tongue around a rib, biting off the cartilage at the end and gnawing the last bits clean. "Just because of circumstance, we end up on opposite sides and become enemies. Under such an absurd premise, debating whether it's better to end a war swiftly and decisively or to drag it out, causing more casualties, seems utterly illogical to me."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd call you naïve," Kotetsu senpai said, his lips quirking up. "But now, I think it's more 'arrogance of the strong.'"

"Huh, arrogance?" I asked, taken aback. "Why would you say that?"

"Because no rules can bind you-- you are the rule itself," Koetsu senpai said, pointing his chopsticks at me twice for emphasis.

"Is...that so?" I bit down gently on the bone, mulling over his words.

Could this connect to what Master Tartarus mentioned--the self-awareness of the strong, something he believed I should come to understand?

Arrogance? So... wanting to stand alongside others—is that considered arrogance...?

"Who knows? I'm hardly an omniscient prophet." Koetsu senpai's tone shifted to a lighter one, now laced with his usual playfulness. "But perhaps, as we continue exploring in the future, we'll come to understand more--whether about ourselves or this overwhelmingly complex world." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "All I know is, once you finish eating, we've got a few more matters to...explore."

I bit my own tongue, the sudden sting of pain causing tears to well up and blur my vision. After wiping my eyes and healing the wound, I glanced at the Altai wapiti with a reproachful, almost sulking look, as he clearly enjoyed every moment of my awkward reaction.

Kotetsu senpai led the way, guiding us into an area that, even by Academy standards, felt almost too hidden.

"No one else has access to this room but me," he said, swiping open the sliding door and flashing a slightly smug grin while showing off the chip card in his hand.

I had a feeling he was saying this to help me relax, though it wasn't doing much--I clenched and unclenched my fists, hoping to stop my paws from trembling. Although my physical response was subtle, I was certain that my chaotic emotions must have been plain to see.

Damn it, I'm so nervous! It's just a discussion; what am I even doing?

"Terminal, initiate environment generation mode," Kotetsu senpai said, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

Several cylindrical objects rose from the floor, merging together in sections until they formed a square table with two chairs.

"Your own virtual reality room?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise as I watched the table and chairs being rendered with a metallic texture. Kotetsu senpai must have some clout within the Utilitarian faction, but this level of access...

"It's a bare-bones version and fairly small." He gestured around the room, but he didn't seem to be trying to downplay it at all. I was starting to notice a certain tendency among cervids to subtly flaunt their antlers when feeling proud--and Kotetsu senpai's antlers were indeed impressive.

I quickly covered my awkwardness with a cough, silently hoping the flush on my ears wasn't too noticeable.

"Shall we begin?" Kotetsu senpai took a seat in one of the chairs, pulling out his terminal.

I was grateful that he, for once, didn't take the opportunity to tease me, so I swiftly sat down in the other chair and readied my own terminal.

The cold metal feel of the virtual reality room was remarkably well-simulated.

"Shall we start with the parts you have questions about?" he asked.

"There might be too many..." I muttered, scratching my ear. "Let's go in order, and I'll bring things up if needed."

He agreed, and we opened the checklist together.

"Let's start with 'equipment.'" Kotetsu senpai's professional tone felt slightly out of place, but I supposed this was something to approach seriously. I shook my head, trying to dispel the strange sense of discomfort. "Anything you absolutely can't tolerate?"

"The anal hook," I replied, wincing--it just looked way too terrifying. "And all kinds of clamps."

"Understood," he tapped on his terminal. "However, about the clamps, if the pressure or the area of use is limited to..." He mentioned a few places that still sounded painful, making my ears twitch.

"Maybe I could try and decide later," I said, marking a triangle on the checkbox while hoping I wouldn't regret this decision.

"But you're okay with things like rolling needles?" Kotetsu senpai scrolled down, looking at an array of sharp or pointed items.

"Clean wounds are easier to handle." I hadn't shown Kotetsu senpai my self-healing ability, but he seemed to accept my reasoning. "And the collar--is it just a simple design, or are there extra... features?" Considering we had just discussed weapons of mass destruction and war crimes, I wasn't eager to dive into issues of segregation.

"The fully-featured kind." Kotetsu senpai actually smiled, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it. "There are some designs tailored for psychics as well..." He tilted his head with a deliberately mysterious expression. "Forgive this slight breach in the informed consent rule--I'd rather not spoil the surprise."

Feeling the heat rush to my ears, I looked down, pretending to focus on my terminal. Not that I'd ever intended to refuse this item; I'd been curious, so I marked the checkbox for "collar."

We continued like this, ticking off nearly everything on the list.

"... Group play, public exposure, and life control." Kotetsu senpai drew crosses over these categories. "Quite modest, aren't you?"

I made a clicking sound in mild protest, but another question suddenly came to mind.

"So... have you... uh... been with others..." A mental image of the "group play" scenario flashed through my mind, making me feel a bit weird.

"Never met anyone with similar interests at the Academy," he replied right to the point, waving his hand. "Are you asking because you'd prefer our relationship to be exclusive?"

"Oh, no." I quickly shook my head to dismiss the idea. "I was just curious... having too many people is kind of... distracting."

"So, we're looking at a non-exclusive, open arrangement," he said, tapping his terminal a few times.

"What's 'financial domination'?" With only a few items left, I picked one that seemed the most benign.

"In a nutshell, it's giving up control over your income, letting someone else spend your money. It has an aspect similar to a liege-lord relationship." For some reason, I imagined Piqsirpoq taking my terminal to make a payment--an image that made me instinctively shake my head. "Hey, no need to be so dramatic." Kotetsu senpai chuckled at my reaction, making a calming gesture. "I don't have a particular interest in it either; it's just an available option."

I scratched my ear, a bit embarrassed by my overreaction.

"Any changes needed in aftercare?" Kotetsu senpai continued down the list.

"I might need to try it out first to be sure," I marked a triangle by each item. "Are nano-drones really necessary?"

"Better safe than sorry." I could only agree with his response.

"I thought it would just involve something simple like applying ointment." I scanned the "aftercare" checklist again.

"Hugging, comforting, and offering praise--to prevent any emotional distress or depressive states from overly intense situations, it's a form of care." Kotetsu senpai explained. "And in power-imbalanced dynamics, allowing time to disengage from that role and providing necessary reassurance is crucial."

I found it a bit difficult to grasp these ideas without experiencing them, but I replied, assuming it would be easier to understand after trying.

"All that's left is the safeword." Kotetsu senpai looked up, giving me an inquiring glance. "Any thoughts?"

"How about 'Arrogance of the Strong'?" I suggested, barely suppressing a grin, and he paused before laughing heartily. "What? I almost suggested 'The Doctrine of Double Effect.'"

"Then it's settled: the safeword is 'Arrogance of the Strong,'" Kotetsu senpai chuckled, shaking his head as he tapped his terminal and set it back on his armband.

"Actually, I have one more question." I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat as anxiety bubbled up inside me. "Just a small one," though the embarrassment of asking it was intense.

"Ask anything--that's the point of this discussion." Kotetsu senpai leaned forward, his hands clasped, signaling that he was listening. "Clear, informed consent and mutual respect are the core principles here."

Suddenly, I had a better sense of what it meant to commit the specifics of a relationship.

But, first things first.

"So..." My voice dropped, and I glanced at the floor to avoid his brown eyes. "What's the difference between ruined and denial...?"

"Pardon?" Kotetsu senpai tilted his head, looking confused.

Maybe I'd spoken too softly out of sheer embarrassment, or maybe he was just trying to tease me.

"I said," this time I took a deep breath, straightening up to project confidence, "what's the difference between orgasm denial and ruined orgasm?"

Rationalism, did I really just say that?

I'd expected Kotetsu senpai to laugh, finding my flustered reaction amusing, as he often did. But what he actually did was stand up, grab me by the back of my neck, and lift me onto the table.

I was pretty sure he'd used body enhancement techniques, though in the high tension state that ears and tail stood upright, I couldn't aware any psychic waves.

"Which would you like to know first?" he asked, a cunning smile on his face.

"What?" My brain stalled, and the fur along my arms bristled, scratching against the fabric with a faint rustle.

"Just this once, you get the right to choose," he whispered, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "There won't be any options in future."

He leaned in, one hand wrapped around my neck, gently scratching the fur behind my ear.

"I'm waiting," he murmured, his warm breath making my ears twitch as I tried to shake off the ticklish feeling. But that hopeless attempt only intensified the heat that flared up inside me.

Finally, with all the willpower I could muster, I managed to whisper my answer, through the shivers and heavy breaths.