The official notice for the four-academy selection was issued. For the joint Imperial-Federation military exercise, each side would field 900 personnel, with mech pilots and mechsmiths in a 7:3 ratio—630 pilots and 270 mechsmiths per nation. Since most Imperial fourth-years were on battlefield assignments, candidates were drawn from first- to third-years. The Federation, catching wind, mirrored the restriction.
Tianquan Military Academy planned to send 600 mech pilots and 200 mechsmiths to the selection on Greenstar, led by eight Combat Division instructors and two Mechsmithing Division instructors.
Qiu Yinzhao, one of the chosen Mechsmithing leads, was a revered special-grade mechsmith with students across the Empire, many now notable designers. That afternoon, after teaching, he entered the White Tower to discuss team leadership with Jiang Gui. The selection was a high-stakes affair, and Jiang Gui was Tianquan's mechsmithing figurehead—his presence on Greenstar would be a coup. Qiu hoped to convince him to co-lead.
He braced for rejection. Jiang Gui, a lone wolf, loathed administrative tasks and had little patience for shepherding students. Qiu suspected Jiang Gui saw little worth in the academy's talent pool. Still, Qiu had committed to crafting custom mechs for the Empire's main team alongside other special-grades post-selection. If Jiang Gui skipped Greenstar, he'd face similar duties elsewhere later.
Sighing, Qiu adjusted his collar and rang Jiang Gui's office doorbell. The metal door slid open, but it wasn't Jiang Gui who emerged.
"Professor Qiu," said a poised young woman, gripping an alloy wrench, sleeves rolled up to reveal smooth, luminous arms. "Looking for Professor Jiang? He's at the Mechsmithing Association."
Qiu stared, recognizing her—Baisha, the royal freshman excelling in both Combat and Mechsmithing, topping both midterms. She'd attended his open lecture. "Cadet Baisha, what are you doing here?"
"Checking for two new parts for the workshop," she said.
Qiu's eyes widened. She held a keycard to Jiang Gui's office! She could come and go freely!
"You mean his workshop?" Qiu asked, voice catching. "The one he built in his dorm with his own funds?"
Faculty dorms clustered in Yunshui District, but Jiang Gui, wanting a workshop, had been reassigned to a spacious, remote old dorm.
Baisha tilted her head. "…Is that odd?"
"Jiang Gui never lets us in his workshop!" Qiu exclaimed. "What's your relationship? Did he take you as a student?"
Baisha blinked, puzzled. "He didn't mention it?"
Qiu was speechless. Jiang Gui had famously declared to colleagues, "I'll never take students." How quickly he'd reneged—and for Baisha, no less. The Mechsmithing faculty's hopes of mentoring her were dashed.
Truth be told, Qiu had considered approaching her himself. But her dual-major schedule and recent elusiveness left no opening—now it was clear she'd been under Jiang Gui's wing, getting private tutoring. He'd even granted her workshop access. How far had she progressed? Perhaps brushing Stellar-grade already—a prodigy paired with a titan of design.
Qiu forced a faint smile. "I came to discuss leading the selection team with him."
"He's probably too busy," Baisha said, shaking her head, setting the wrench on the lab table. "He's swamped with experiments."
"No matter how brilliant, he's hamstrung without help," Qiu muttered. "I've only four researchers on my team, but collaboration boosts efficiency."
Baisha shrugged. "He's upgraded the workshop's machines for efficiency. It's manageable. I pitch in with odd jobs sometimes."
"Fine," Qiu conceded. "Don't bring it up with him."
"You should ask him yourself—it's not my call," Baisha said, sending a holo-message before Qiu could stop her. The call connected, and she spoke. "Professor, Professor Qiu's here, asking if you'll lead the selection team."
"I can't," Jiang Gui's cool voice replied. "I'm a judge for the selection. Post-selection, if you make the main team, I'll lead for the exercise."
Baisha hummed. "You've got faith in me, Professor?"
"No faith?" Jiang Gui retorted. "You're always stirring things up. Channel that on the battlefield."
"Professor, you've got me wrong," Baisha said. "I aim to be a legendary mechsmith like you."
"Oh? Willing to compete as a mechsmith, then?" he teased.
"I've already teamed up with friends…" she hedged.
"Then quit talking," Jiang Gui said. "You're dual-majoring—excel in both." He hung up.
Baisha glanced at Qiu, whose eye twitched. "You heard him."
"I did," Qiu said weakly. "I'll find someone else."
After Qiu left, Baisha locked the door, removed her gloves, and checked the fungal material's latest data on the holo-console. Jiang Gui's willingness to judge the selection suggested a pause in the research. He'd compiled the material's properties and results into a paper, likely the reason for his Association visit.
Baisha mused that the Empire's fungal specimens were scarce, and others likely studied them too. Qiu's point held—game-changing materials like this couldn't be fully tackled solo, even by a genius like Jiang Gui. Registering results early was wise for potential patent disputes.
She reviewed Jiang Gui's next experiments: perfecting the material's dynamic upgrading mechanism. Success would birth mechs that grew with their pilot's mental energy—a true revolution.
Sighing in awe, she shut down the console, packed the needed parts, and locked the office.
At dinner, she joined Sino and Cen in the cafeteria. "Let's toast Cen," Sino said, raising a glass with a grin. "Congrats on passing the internal screening for the four-academy selection!"
Cen squinted, bristling. "Are you mocking me? I'm not top-tier like you, but I'm not that bad."
Her grades ranked around tenth among freshmen—not standout for a 3S-rank. Tianquan had many S- and 2S-ranks, but 3S was rare. With only five 3S freshmen across two elite classes, all in the top ten, Cen's lower rank seemed underwhelming.
The selection pooled 2,500 pilots from the four academies, with roughly 600 advancing to the exercise—a one-in-four chance. Cen was a lock to qualify, but a main team slot? A long shot. Only twelve pilots and three mechsmiths would form the main team, split by year for a "5v5 Elite Team Match," a post-exercise showcase. These leaders would helm the broader team.
"You've improved fast, but it's not enough," Sino said. "First-years get four pilot slots for the main team. We've got to fight for them."
Cen nodded, resolute.
"Plus, for our grand plan, I recruited a teammate," Sino said, shifting to reveal a newcomer. "Here he is."
A lean, composed boy nodded. "Hello."
Yu Yan, their classmate. 2S-rank, with a white bear construct, piloting the heavy mech Wavebreaker—a school-issued 2S-grade mech well-suited to him. His skill outshone two 3S-ranks from the neighboring class.
"With four main slots," Sino grinned, "let's form a quartet."
Cen's mouth twitched. "You want Tianquan to sweep all four, leaving none for the other academies?"
Sino raised a brow. "Why not?"
Cen was speechless. Confidence was fine, but Sino's bordered on arrogance.
"Fairly, Yu Yan's no slouch," Sino said. "When those 3S punks from next door hassled you, he had your back, right? A-Class needs that unity—for the main team too."
Baisha eyed Sino and Yu Yan's chummy rapport. "Since when are you two so tight?"
"Forged in sparring," Sino griped. "Your Highness is always off somewhere, no time to duel. Cen's glued to you when she's around. I had to find a sparring buddy."
"And you, Yu Yan?" Baisha asked.
"I'm in," he said simply. "Need to drill tactics? I'm ready."
Baisha nodded slowly.
"Your Highness," Sino said, eyes gleaming, "Yu Yan and I need weapons!"
Baisha choked. "Don't formal team members get free custom mechs?"
"Mass-produced customs?" Sino scoffed. "Not all are Stellar-grade. I'm set—I'll likely snag a main slot. But Yu Yan's 2S-rank needs a top weapon to boost his odds. So, my weapon can wait—prioritize him."
Main team members would get special-grade mechsmiths for custom or refitted mechs, per their wishes. Yu Yan wouldn't refuse, but he hadn't secured a slot yet. His Wavebreaker was solid; a weapon would suffice. A Stellar-grade one would put him ahead—unless special-grades offered Legendary-grade, which was unlikely.
As Baisha pondered, Cen whispered, "One more thing: the Han family sponsors Yu Yan's tuition."
The Han family? Baisha gave Yu Yan a subtle glance. He might not be her direct ally, but he leaned her way.
"You're rushing me," Baisha said. "My last Stellar weapon took two months. We leave for Greenstar next weekend—there's no time."
Five special-grades were lined up to design for main team members. Sino's current mech, a top-tier Stellar-grade from a special-grade, came with a custom weapon he found lacking. He adored Baisha's style, so she'd agreed to draft and refine a blueprint during the selection, ensuring a weapon before the exercise—assuming it wasn't urgent.
Yu Yan's need, however, was pressing.
"Now what?" Cen sighed, her tone feigning regret but smug. "My fault for hogging Your Highness's time."
Sino and Yu Yan glared. Her "guilt" was a thinly veiled boast.
"I can't craft in time," Baisha said, waving a hand. "Let's buy off-the-shelf. Better than nothing."
"Works…?" Sino blinked. "Guess fate saves your custom weapon for me. Yu Yan, make do. We'll hit the Association's auction—you pick, I pay."
Yu Yan frowned. "Too costly?"
"Nah," Cen said, thumping her chest. "I was a nobody once. Without Her Highness and Sino, I'd be nowhere. Team rule one: spend big!"
How much for a Stellar-grade weapon? Post-dinner, the quartet huddled in the library, browsing the Association's auction site.
Sino scrolled, frowning. "Why are some weapons pricier than my special-grade commission?"
"Special-grades have waitlists," Baisha said. "These are ready-made. Custom work's priciest when rushed."
Sino shrugged. "Didn't notice."
Cen snorted. "Please, your dad's Marquis Uss. You wouldn't. I did my homework." She pointed at listings. "Skip this, skip that—these smiths are mediocre, overpriced."
Baisha glanced; Cen was spot-on. The site's weapon stock was limited, quickly exhausted.
"That's it?" Cen crossed her arms. "I heard some mechsmiths and collectors hoard prime pieces. Maybe we visit special-grades—they might have spares."
Baisha shook her head. "My professor says he only makes Legendary-grade."
Cen threw up her hands. "Master Jiang Gui's out—we can't afford him!"
Sino looked to Baisha. "I could contact family-connected special- or high-grades?"
"I know a few too…" Baisha began.
Her holodevice flashed—Uriel calling. He'd never used holo-calls before. Baisha felt a surge of pride; he must've learned to use the device in her absence.
She stepped aside for the video call. Uriel's angelic face appeared, his golden hair now waist-long, curling like spun gold, his sea-green eyes radiant. Gone was his simple combat gear; he wore noble attire Baisha had commissioned—black fabric with silver embroidery and fine gems, accented by star-crossed ear clips that glinted softly.
Baisha's breath caught. Despite daily exposure to her uncle and Uriel's beauty, she wasn't immune. "Uriel, what's with the makeover?"
He tilted his head, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no," she stammered. "It's great."
He smiled gently. "Good."
"By the way, Your Highness," he said casually, "His Majesty's been in low spirits, likely because you haven't returned to Youdu Star." His tone softened. "If you're too busy, I can tell him your studies are heavy, to ease his mind."
Baisha scratched her cheek. "Midterms are done—I'm not that busy."
"What's keeping you, then?" Uriel asked.
"The Imperial-Federation exercise," she said. "I'm heading to the four-academy selection with classmates, aiming for main team slots…"
On Youdu Star, the Emperor stood just out of Uriel's frame, watching Baisha's face without revealing himself. Hearing she wouldn't return this weekend, his expression soured. "Joint exercise" and "four-academy selection" deepened his frown.
He glanced at Wei Li, his eyes asking: Can we cancel the exercise now?
Wei Li shook his head subtly: Absolutely not, Your Majesty.
Cecil Ronin grimaced.
Baisha mentioned contacting special-grades for spare weapons, and he couldn't hold back. "Do you know how many mech weapons are stockpiled on Youdu Star?" he said, stepping into view. "Generations' worth—centuries-old, but not obsolete. It's about how they're used. We've amassed plenty…"
He trailed off, closing his eyes, breathing deeply. "Point is, if you need ready-made weapons, come to Youdu Star."
"Uncle?" Baisha said, surprised. "You're there? Why didn't you speak up?"
He turned away, scoffing. "Come back or don't. Your choice."
Baisha sighed. What could she say? She'd better hightail it to Youdu Star.
Two days later, she returned to Tianquan with a massive case, summoning Yu Yan. She opened it, revealing a silver-blue heavy lightsword.
"This suits you best, matched to Wavebreaker," Baisha said, having run simulations with the mech's data. "It's Stellar-grade, called Stinging Jellyfish, crafted by the late special-grade Zang Linhai—who also designed Wavebreaker. You're lucky, Yu Yan—not the flashiest, but the most fitting. And it's a steal."
Baisha had planned to gift it, but the Han family, likely tipped off by the Emperor, sent payment directly to her. The favor, naturally, was credited to Baisha.