Benjamin's return to the Academy was quiet. No celebrations, no honors, just the steady march of time as life went on without him. The world didn't pause for the things he had seen. It didn't care that he had fought against something ancient, something that shouldn't have been stirring beneath the ruins of a lost civilization.
He was placed in a dormitory with the other successful candidates. Many of the faces were unfamiliar—most had returned from their dungeons within a day, while he had been gone for three. Their gazes lingered on him sometimes, wary or curious, but no one asked questions.
Except for Yu.
"Alright, I waited long enough," Yu declared, slapping a tray of food down next to Benjamin at the mess hall. "I need answers."
Benjamin barely looked up from his meal. "I have no answers."
"You're lying." Yu grinned, unbothered. "You disappeared for days, you came back looking like you fought an entire war, and now the instructors keep watching you like you're some kind of unpredictable monster. What happened?"
Benjamin sighed. "Dungeon. Monsters. I survived. That's all."
Yu raised an eyebrow. "You always this chatty?"
"Only when necessary."
Yu scoffed, shoving a piece of flatbread into his mouth. "Well, whatever. I'm just glad I'm not the only first-year getting weird looks."
Benjamin glanced at him. "What did you do?"
Yu grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. "Let's just say, my dungeon wasn't a death trap like yours, but I might have, uh, eaten something I wasn't supposed to. Turns out, some ancient ruins still have living guardians, and they get very upset when you steal their sacred fruit."
Benjamin blinked. "…You ate an artifact?"
"It was shiny and I was hungry." Yu shrugged. "Now I get random bursts of energy and the healers say my body is 'undergoing an unnatural adjustment process.' Whatever that means."
Benjamin shook his head, but he couldn't help the small smirk tugging at his lips.
Yu was impossible to dislike.
They fell into an easy friendship after that.
Still, the days blurred together.
Mornings were brutal—physical training meant endless drills, strength exercises, and sparring. Benjamin was no stranger to exertion, but the Academy's instructors pushed the students beyond normal limits, treating them as more than mere scholars.
After that came the lectures, long hours spent absorbing everything from the history of the Sages to the nature of the world's unseen forces.
And then, in the evenings, Benjamin studied alone.
His dormmates rested or socialized, but he spent his nights in the library, pouring over tomes that were not assigned. Books on the histories before the Academy, on forgotten ruins, on lost wars. Anything that might give him even the slightest hint about Malachros.
And every night, before retiring, he visited the veterinary wing.
Atty was still asleep.
Benjamin didn't know why it felt important to check on him. The healers assured him that the small white gryphon was alive, that his body was stable, but something in Benjamin's gut refused to let him rest until he saw it with his own eyes.
He would stand there, watching the gentle rise and fall of Atty's breath, feeling something in his chest twist with an emotion he couldn't name.
He had lost him once.
He wouldn't lose him again.
---
Weeks passed.
The days grew colder, the first hints of winter creeping into the Academy's stone walls.
Benjamin settled into a rhythm, his body growing stronger with each day of training. He struggled with combat application, but not for the same reasons as some of his peers.
His attunement to the Law of Life should have allowed him to sense vitality, to connect with the world around him. Others who shared this affinity could heal minor wounds, enhance their endurance, or even sense the emotions of those nearby.
Benjamin?
Nothing.
No connection to the plants. No heightened awareness of the people around him. No ability to mend even a scratch.
Only Atty.
The realization settled in like a stone in his gut. He could feel Atty. Even in sleep, even while unconscious, there was something tethering them together. He felt the gryphon's presence in the back of his mind, faint but unmistakable.
But if his Law of Life was supposed to allow him to connect with all living things, then why was Atty the only exception?
His instructors had no answers.
And so, every night, he returned to the library.
Books stacked on his desk, candles burning low, his hands ink-stained as he taught himself the written language of the Bishirs. If he was going to uncover the truth, he couldn't rely solely on absorption anymore. He needed to read and understand the world on his own.
And then, one night, as he sat in his room deciphering a passage on pre-Academy artifacts, a small chirp broke the silence.
Benjamin froze.
Slowly, he turned toward the nest of blankets at the foot of his bed.
Atty blinked up at him, golden-silver eyes reflecting the dim candlelight.
Benjamin's breath hitched.
The little gryphon stretched, his movements slow and groggy, as if waking from the longest sleep of his life. His white feathers ruffled, his small wings unfurling briefly before tucking back in.
Benjamin swallowed hard.
"Atty…?"
The gryphon tilted his head, then let out a small, familiar yawn.
Benjamin's chest tightened.
It was him.
Not just a creature bearing Atty's name. Not a celestial beast reborn through Itharim power.
Atty was still Atty.
Benjamin let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He reached out, hesitantly, and Atty stepped forward, pressing his feathered head against his palm. The warmth was real. The weight of him was real.
Benjamin laughed, shaking his head. "You took your time."
Atty chirped in response, as if completely unaware of how much he had worried him.
Benjamin sat back, running a hand through his hair, exhaustion and relief crashing over him all at once.
"You have no idea how much I missed you, you little troublemaker."
Atty purred in response, curling up against him.
For the first time since returning from the dungeon, Benjamin let himself relax.
---
The next morning, he walked into the mess hall with Atty perched on his shoulder.
The reactions were immediate.
Students stared. Some whispered. A few simply gawked.
Yu, who had just started eating, choked on his food.
"Wait—what?" Yu sputtered. "I thought that thing was still in a coma!"
Benjamin smirked. "Guess he just needed some extra sleep."
Atty, seemingly enjoying the attention, fluffed his feathers and let out a smug chirp.
Yu groaned, rubbing his temples. "Great. He's got your attitude too."
Others joined in. Tariq, ever the tactician, studied Atty with sharp curiosity. Sanaa, the lightning-fast Hayawa, eyed the gryphon with something almost like suspicion.
"He doesn't feel like a normal beast," she said finally. "His energy is… strange."
Benjamin didn't answer. Mostly because he had no answer.
All he knew was that Atty was alive.
And for now, that was enough.
---
The days returned to routine, but now Benjamin had a new focus.
Combat training remained a challenge. His attunement to the Law of Life should have given him an edge—but it didn't. He couldn't manipulate the life force of others. He couldn't enhance allies, couldn't heal, couldn't sense emotions.
But his bond with Atty granted him something else.
His reflexes sharpened. His stamina lasted longer. His senses heightened.
Nothing extraordinary.
Nothing that could compare to the raw, undeniable power of those who could bend wind, shift stone, or wield lightning.
But it was something.
And Benjamin was willing to take anything he could get.
Because one day, when he left the Academy, when he was strong enough, he was going to find Malachros again.
And this time, he wouldn't just survive.
He would win.