Harper clapped her hands together. “Thank you, Instructor Hepburn. I’ll take great care of them.”'

Instructor Hepburn inclined her head at the blonde, then departed, leaving the collection of students—led by the blonde upperclassman—alone in the meeting room.

The first day had begun in earnest, though not actual classes. Rather, an initiation day. Over the past hour, Instructor Hepburn had gone over the functional requirements expected of them … the Tenet code of conduct, and various policies they were expected to know by heart.

Harper was a fourth-year student, nearing graduation. She’d be talking Natalie’s first-year group through a variety of topics: the role guilds, the token system, life at Tenet in general, extracurriculars, and so on.

She didn’t exude any particular sort of competence, but Natalie knew not to trust that instinct. Just because she had a bubbly personality meant nothing for her combat skills. Her soft curves, heart-shaped face, and bright, innocent blue eyes, didn’t remotely guarantee weakness.

Maybe for someone without an adventuring class, physique could indicate strength, speed, or athleticism, but in the world of delving—or combat classes, to appropriately generalize—a five foot nothing girl who looked like she’d blow away in the wind might very well be able to dig her fingers into a boulder and chuck it across a pond like a skipping stone. Or not. That was the point—you couldn’t know.

Probably not the case, with Harper … she likely wasn’t that strong. But Natalie’s point was, regardless that this girl didn’t look dangerous, she’d made it to Tenet’s fourth year. She’d wipe the floor with Natalie. And Sofia and Jordan. All three of them, at the same time, at a guess. Skill mattered, but only to a point. Harper had levels on them, even if she didn’t have skill. And she almost certainly did have skill.

“So!” Harper started brightly. “I’m sure you’re all excited to be here. I know I was! Tenet Delving Academy … your life begins in earnest. But,” she said firmly, pointing at the group of students who, like Natalie, were slightly perplexed at her exuberant behavior, “we’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s all important. So listen carefully. I’d like to get through this as fast as possible, to give you time for questions.”

“To start us off, the token system. Let me outline things.” She put her hands on her hips and frowned at the group. “But before I do, I need to be candid. I don’t know which of you this applies to, but while Mommy and Daddy might have bought you a way into Tenet, now that you’re in, you’re on your own. No, you can’t exchange helixes for tokens. Yes, if you’re caught, you’ll be reprimanded, and eventually expelled. I don’t care what your name is. Tenet has expelled more important people than you, I promise. You don’t matter. Get that through your thick skulls.”

The harsh words were said in the same sweet tone as before, which was kind of impressive. Harper made it clear what she thought of the people the disclaimer applied to.

“Not that you’ll last long, if you’re needing to buy tokens off your less useless peers,” Harper said breezily, smiling. “But either way, it’s time to put your big girl and big boy pants on. Don’t circumvent the system. Not only will you not like what happens, but if you’re going to wash out, it’s best you get it over with.” She raised her eyebrows and emphasized the next part. “It’s better to wash out normally, than what’ll happen down in the dungeon. I promise you that.”

A bright smile, and Harper clapped her hands. “That said! The token system is real fun. You’ll learn to love it. It’s a great motivator.”

A snort somewhere in the back of the audience, which Harper ignored.

“First, let me break it down for those who might never have heard of it.”

“Who wouldn’t have?” a masculine voice asked, somewhere to Natalie’s left, near the front. He sounded bored.

“Who wouldn’t?” Harper echoed. “Well, most of you don’t need this brief, that’s fair. But not everyone at Tenet has such boring origins, Mister Adair, second son to Nobleman Whoever-The-Fuck.” The words continued to be perfectly sweet, delivered with a smile.

She knew the boy’s name, though? Was he important? Not too important to insult … but enough to recognize.

“The Dimming Herald, however, was raised in a cave,” Harper continued. “She didn’t meet another human until she was nineteen. She attended Tenet, and, I suppose, wouldn’t have known what the token system was when she arrived. So let me explain, please?”

She ended the statement with a sneer, and damn, Natalie thought she had a new favorite fourth-year. Miss Bubbly has some kick to her. Consider Natalie a fan.

The interrupter—Mister Adair—didn’t bristle, to his credit, only seemed amused at how Harper had shot him down. It raised Natalie’s estimation of him. Natalie respected a person who could take their licks, even if she thought he was annoying for not shutting up and letting Harper get through her spiel.

“As I was saying,” Harper said. “The token system. Fundamentally, it’s a way to encourage a delver to be the best version of themselves they can be. It’s not a well-kept secret that Tenet had problems with nepotism in the past … that individuals were accepted by family name more than merit.”

The bubbly blonde’s attention flicked to Mister Adair, quirking an eyebrow, though it seemed more a taunt than a real accusation.

“But those days are past,” Harper said. “Now, Tenet cares only about fostering competition. With technology taking an ever-increasing presence in our lives, an equal need for monster cores is rising. Powerful delvers have never been so crucial. And as one of thirteen primary delving academies—and the largest in Valhaur, to view things more myopically—Tenet is one of the cogs that keeps the world going round.”

The speech felt a bit too canned, but she saw the point Harper was making. It was true. Technology wasn’t cheap to run, and as the world grew, and technology became more complex, more and more cores were needed.

“So,” Harper said. “Rather than students buying luxuries, equipment, and tutoring through helixes, our more common, mundane currency, the aspiring Tenet pupil has to work for what they want. Crazy, right?”

Natalie’s lips quirked. The canned speech was gone; the frank honesty was back.

She hadn’t expected a representative of Tenet to be so critical of the overwhelmingly nobility-based student body, but apparently Harper was—and Natalie appreciated it. Though, the whole display was a bit hypocritical. For all the claims to avoiding nepotism, the wealthy were still Tenet’s majority by a significant margin.

Though, that might be due to wealth meaning proper training … and a slew of other advantages. Often times, the wealthy were the best candidates. Not from nepotism, but privileged upbringings that led to ideal candidacy.

“So your next question is pretty obvious. Harper, how do we get tokens? Public showers are such a drag. And to that I say—what do you think?” Harper laughed. “Delving! Though, I should be more specific. There’s a few avenues where delves can turn into tokens. First off, the obvious. Levels. Levels are the most blatant indicator that you’ve been putting work in, and Tenet is happy to reward it. In fact, as far as token-earning goes, it’s the single most lucrative.”

“Because it takes forever,” a new voice said.

“Exactly,” Harper said, pivoting and pointing at the boy. “So it’s not a viable option for primary token earning. Even your first level can only be done in, hm, a week or two, at the best. Plus, as first-weekers, the dungeons are closed off … so it’s not an option anyways. You’ll need to suck your circumstances up for at least a bit. Misery breeds character, haven’t you heard?”

A few snorts. Harper seemed happy at that. She seemed to be a natural public speaker, enjoying the limelight, even in an academic way like this.

“But not just levels. Depositing loot into the Tenet public treasury, whether monster cores or items, is a good, consistent way to earn tokens. Another good option is escort missions. Taking harvesters of various sorts to risky dungeon locations to mine, or gather, or whatever else. That’s more of a higher level option, but some crop up, so keep an eye out.”

Harper hummed before she continued.

“Okay, but besides the dungeon, there’s a bunch of other ways. Most of them fall under the general umbrella of ‘quests’, but it’s worth breaking that down into a few categories, so you can know what to expect. First, Tenet-offered quests. Stuff like helping your professors with grading, or tutoring other students, or … whatever. Stuff that Tenet needs done. I recommend checking those out, and not only because it pays well. Networking is important, which is a statement I know a lot of you will roll your eyes at. Who needs networking as a delver, right? The goal is to cut your way through mountains of snarling monster, not ‘make connections’.”

Harper air quoted the words, mocking the imaginary speaker.

“It’s a juvenile way of thinking. The world’s more complicated than that. Sure, there’s exceptions. But the thing is, by definition, you’re probably not the exception. Most of you—us—are going to be normal, career delvers. Mid-ranks. Some of us become high-ranks. A top-ranker? Probably not. People like the Dimming Herald don’t just crop up. If you had a chance of being her, you’d know by now.”

Harper sighed.

“And yeah, this is all pointless to say. You’re all wide-eyed and hopeful, and won’t believe me. But Tenet, and the dungeon, has a way of bashing the reality of a situation into your head, so maybe in six months you’d be willing to listen. But whatever. Think about it. Networking is important. Take Tenet quests, if nothing but for that. Help people, make friends.” She shrugged. “Or don’t. What do I care? I’m not your mom.”

She tapped a finger against her lips.

“Next up, and don’t repeat this phrase outside of Tenet, are the ‘public relations’ quests.” She air quoted the words. “Tenet’s got an image to uphold, and that means having students go out into the city, or neighboring cities, and be seen doing good. The more astute of you, here, know why this is necessary. Beyond just Tenet wanting a good image—adventurers being viewed favorably. In fact, besides killing a classmate outside a sanctioned competition, handling yourself in a way that degrades Tenet’s image is the quickest way to getting expelled. If you’re going to get drunk and act an idiot—or whatever else—do it on campus. You’ll get in trouble, but you won’t be expelled.”

Harper breathed in.

“Okay. I’ve been talking at you too long—let’s get some group participation. One of you tell me why delvers need to be viewed in a good light. I’m sure someone here’s wondering.”