The best guess on how to keep secret realms running more than once is to send in awakened of significantly lower realm than the creator. For example, a seventh realm secret realm could host one seventh realm awakened once before collapsing, or it could host a thousand sixth realmers or a million fifth realmers…

  — Excerpt from The Secrets of the Secret Realms

  Day 243, 11:00 PM

  The conversation with Lady Frostgrave had taken much longer than expected, and unlike the previous times, it was more of a discussion than an interrogation. Hours passed in what I could call an exchange of knowledge, if I was self-centered enough, but it was in fact the lady valiant teaching me.

  The Noble Dragon’s corridor was dimly lit to spare the eyes and match the hour while still providing enough light to see everything. I opened the door to my new room, deep in thought, when an embarrassed voice snapped me out of my contemplations.

  “Have you done anything immoral?” Newstar blurted as soon as I entered our shared room.

  I cocked an eyebrow, glaring at him until his face grew red. It was time to have the talk with him.

  “First, what men and women consensually and consciously do behind closed doors, without exchanging goods or services, is beautiful, not immoral. Second, the ‘gentleman never tells’ is disgusting nonsense braggers and failures say, you should never say it.” Words couldn’t describe how much that disgusting gossip-starter got on my nerves. “And third, no. We discussed magic, the nature of realms, my chosen path, and potential for cooperation.”

  Including marriage, but fortunately, my realm is low enough for it to be an obstacle at the moment. Not that Iceflow’s hard on the eyes, but then again, by her realm a crone would look like a supermodel.

  Still, since Newstar had broached the subject of Iceflow’s and my private conversation, no sense not to poke fun at the youth.

  “And she understood my words on the first try. She did not throw a tantrum, run outside, nor drink a gallon of tea, which I believed was fancy, but now I understand was provincial trash.” That one was still an embarrassment. “In short, Valiant Frostgrave decided she wished to show me benevolence to return the favor I have done for her, and we worked out a deal.”

  The deal thus far was a day to ask questions on topics I was interested in, on top of what we had discussed previously. Which, for someone like me, was possibly the greatest value I could get from someone more knowledgeable than I was.

  “You didn’t say you’re friends now,” Newstar said with a confused frown.

  “I did not. I cannot be her friend until I reach the fifth realm, at the very least, and she will not be able to be my friend once I reach the eighth. Friends need to have comparable strength and preferably similar growth rate. Did I not explain that to you the last time we met?”

  I was fairly certain I did, but the problem was that we had shared so many conversations the real timeline’s Newstar didn’t experience that I was also getting confused. Another downside of looping.

  Newstar went silent, trying to recall the conversation that might or might not have happened, but gave up and changed the subject shortly.

  “So, about the mission tomorrow, how did you know to select the one for ice-attributed mages?”

  “Well, I did not. Not really.” I started stripping. It was late, and we had a busy day or several days awaiting us. “These beds increase your mana circulation and the rate at which you absorb ambient mana. It is a tiny improvement, but it is an improvement. The more of your skin touches the bedding, the better.”

  “Does that mean someone else lay here naked?” Newstar jumped out of the bed wearing an undershirt and underpants, not even bothering to conceal his disgust.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “They change the sheets, Newstar,” I deadpanned. “This is a high-class establishment charging in manarium; they have spare beddings.

  “Anyway, regarding your question. I did not reserve a job, and even if I wanted to, the guild does not allow it. They make the mission unavailable when someone sets off to complete it. I simply memorized everything available and threw the offer, seeing that Madam Frostgrave has so many mentees with her. To be honest, I was afraid they were too highborn to consider teaming up with us. Now, will you go back to your bed? You need not take off your underclothes.”

  I slipped into my bed and covered myself, while Newstar hesitated. Finally, he took off his shirt and went to bed.

  “Lights off,” I said, and the room went dark.

  “I tried turning them off, but didn’t know how.”

  I chuckled at the inexperience of youth. Didn’t he consider just asking someone?

  “I kindly asked the maid, and she told me.” Which was true, even if it had happened in a scrapped loop years ago. “Now, regarding tomorrow’s mission, the caverns we will visit form a giant maze, or, to be more accurate, an ancient, highly evolved frostworm had burrowed its lair there a long time ago and has long since died. The ice jade deposit I mentioned earlier is actually the dead manabeast’s skeleton.”

  The comment left Newstar speechless.

  “Do not be surprised; frostworms are massive. Their bones grow outside their flesh to form a partial exoskeleton to support their bulk, otherwise they would fall apart in lower realms.”

  “I wasn’t surprised.”

  “Why the frown, then?” I asked, catching a hint of it, despite the poor moonlight coming in through the window.

  “I noticed a similarity between these frostworms and my clan.” His voice was solemn, his words slow and measured. “A once powerful existence brought them here, and after it passed away, they became fodder.”

  I could see the parallel, but I would expect such a line of thought only from someone suffering from severe depression. Kind of like me at times. While words were hollow and wouldn’t help much, they would help a bit.

  “That was overly harsh. You are not fodder, and neither is your family. I have said it before, but I will say it again: your circumstances are unfortunate, but they forged you as you are. Good comes from bad, and bad comes from good. It is an unending cycle.”

  He remained silent, so I focused on the mission.

  “So, we will fight inside tunnels. There will be little room for maneuvering, and a stabbing weapon would serve you better than a slashing one requiring wide sweeps.” His family’s weapons were a travesty, and in my vision he had a spear because he realized the same thing at some point. And two loops ago, after seeing him fumble in the tunnels, I decided this was the right time for him to make the realization.

  So, I kept talking about obstacles and cramped spaces until he finally took the hint. Naturally, it was the wrong one.

  “Where can I buy a decent-quality short-sword?”

  “Are you finally planning to abandon those silly swords?” I felt like I was beating a dead horse, or, well, spikeback.

  “What? No!” He flared with anger, saying similar words to those he had said in two previous loops under different circumstances, but they were close enough for me to railroad the conversation.

  “A pity.” I tsked, but said no more, baiting him.

  “What are you trying to imply?”

  “Nothing, nothing.”

  “No, no, there’s something there.” He paused for a moment, his anger cooling. “Please tell me.”

  “Your ancestor clearly wanted to use a weapon with reach, but he had already invested too much time into mastering the sword. In the interest of saving time and not wasting his effort, he just made them longer.”

  I let the words sink in, long enough for him to consider a counter-argument, but not enough to clearly form it before I continued.

  “He probably tried using a greatsword first, but the weapon didn’t suit his physique, so he elected the slimmer twin swords. He chose poorly.”

  “What do you know?” Newstar grumbled, his family’s pride wounded, but I chuckled to defuse the situation.

  “About weapons? More than your entire lineage combined.” And it was no empty boast. There probably wasn’t a weapon-master alive who could match my skill.

  I could feel he wanted to say something, to argue, but Newstar remained silent, and the silence stretched.

  “And which weapon should I use?”

  “Spear, but considering your fighting style, where you turn yourself into a granite juggernaut, you might consider something heavier and more forceful, like a glaive or a greatsword. The latter is lacking in reach, but makes up for it with massive damage.” Not to mention the savage battle style, but that didn’t seem to match the refined man from my vision.

  I didn’t force him. The seed was planted, and it would sprout in the tunnels if my plan and preparations worked out in the current loop, so I moved back to a neutral topic.

  “Regarding where to purchase a decent short-sword, the blacksmiths’ guild is the best and safest option by far. You can find some used weapons with various merchants, but those are always a gamble…”