Chapter 953: He Wants Perfection

Liam had allowed his public-facing shadow creatures greater freedom to move around Veyrhold when their services were not immediately required. Smoke had occasionally wandered through the settlement after returning from assignments, while Wing continued observing the area from above. Raven had similarly been permitted to explore.

There was a practical reason for this.

Many students remained uncomfortable around dark magic, especially when that magic took the form of large, intelligent creatures capable of tearing through enemies.

Liam intended to use his shadow beasts extensively throughout the assessment. They could accompany scouting groups, assist patrols, carry information, and provide protection where he could not personally intervene.

None of that would work particularly smoothly if students panicked whenever one approached.

Familiarity would not eliminate every prejudice, but it could reduce unnecessary hesitation.

And apparently, Raven had discovered an exceptionally effective method of improving public relations.

’At this rate, she’ll expect a personal attendant.’

He left the courtyard behind.

***

The girls watched Liam disappear around the corner before gradually returning to their conversation.

For a few moments, their attention remained on Raven, who had resumed enjoying the attention with complete satisfaction.

Then one of them spoke.

"You know, he’s actually really handsome."

Another girl gave her a look. "You’re only noticing that now?"

"I didn’t say I just noticed."

"You sounded surprised."

"Well, he looks different with his hair tied back."

A girl sitting opposite Raven nodded thoughtfully.

"He has a really nice face. It’s just that he always looks like he’d rather be somewhere else."

"That’s because he probably would," another replied, earning a few laughs.

"I think he’s easier to talk to than people say," the first girl continued. "He was perfectly polite just now."

"Polite, sure. But approachable?"

She considered that.

"Maybe not particularly."

"I still think Dylan’s easier to talk to."

"Dylan talks enough for six people."

"And half of it shouldn’t be repeated."

The girls laughed again.

Raven opened one eye.

Her master’s appearance was apparently the latest subject of discussion.

She lifted her head slightly, looking between them with a composed, almost disdainful expression.

One girl noticed her staring.

"What?"

Raven blinked.

Another girl smiled mischievously. "Maybe she agrees that Liam’s handsome."

"Of course she would. He’s her master."

"I wonder what it would take to get him to smile properly."

Raven’s gaze settled on the speaker.

The look was distinctly unimpressed.

Appreciating her master’s appearance was one thing. Assuming his attention was available simply because someone wanted it was quite another.

The girl tilted her head.

"Why is she looking at me like that?"

"Maybe you’re bothering her."

"Oh, sorry, sweetheart."

She reached forward and resumed stroking the feathers along Raven’s neck.

Raven immediately lowered her head again.

Whatever foolishness these humans chose to discuss, at least some of them understood their responsibilities.

***

By the time Liam reached the central structure, the difference in its condition was immediately apparent.

The building still carried the scars of abandonment, but much of the disorder that had greeted him during his first inspection had disappeared.

The lower entrance had been cleared properly. Reinforced supports stood along sections of the damaged walls, and several unstable passageways had been sealed or marked for restricted access. Temporary fittings secured conduit housings that had previously hung loose, while repaired sections of flooring made movement between the occupied rooms considerably safer.

Students were still working, but their efforts had become more selective.

Rather than attempting to repair everything, the Forgemastery teams appeared to be concentrating on components that mattered to the structure’s immediate functionality.

’Not bad.’

Actually, considerably better than not bad.

The progress was impressive given the limited time and materials available.

Liam entered the building and made his way through the lower corridors.

There were fewer students moving around the upper working areas than earlier. Some rooms had already been cleared, while others remained closed because their repairs depended on the central system receiving power.

He followed the sound of metal being adjusted against stone until he reached a broad passage where several students were working around a reinforced support assembly.

Maxwell stood beside a partially opened wall housing, one hand braced against a metal fitting while he adjusted its position with controlled Myst.

Nearby, Quenivarius held a notebook and watched with the concentrated disapproval of someone observing a procedure that could be improved in approximately seventeen different ways.

"Two degrees to the left," Quenivarius instructed.

Maxwell adjusted the fitting.

"Not three. Two."

"I moved it two."

"Approximately two. The pressure distribution—"

"Brindlequast."

"Quenivarius."

"Whatever. If you tell me to adjust it another fraction without explaining why, I’m handing you the tools."

Quenivarius looked personally offended.

"Because the supporting bracket must distribute pressure evenly across both anchor points. A slight angular deviation could create unnecessary stress when the mechanism becomes operational."

Maxwell examined the fitting.

Then adjusted it again.

"There. Happy?"

Quenivarius leaned closer.

"Acceptable."

"Wonderful. We’ve achieved acceptable. Someone inform the kingdom."

"Precision is not something one celebrates sarcastically, Samson."

"Then climb down here and demonstrate your enthusiasm physically."

"My responsibility is to ensure the repairs meet the correct specifications."

"And mine is apparently listening to you explain every movement of my hands."

Liam stopped several paces away.

’They seem to be getting along.’

Maxwell noticed him first.

"Oh. Liam."

Liam nodded.

"Maxwell."

"Where have you been? Haven’t seen you since this morning when you left with Asher and..." Maxwell paused briefly, searching for the name. "The Crescentian girl."

"Celia Roanne," Quenivarius supplied immediately.

"Yes, Celia," Maxwell said. "Thank you, Professor Names."

"Accurate identification is a basic—"

"I acknowledged the correction."

Liam regarded them both.

"I’ve been walking around the district."

Maxwell glanced at him. "That’s it?"

"Mostly."

"Must be nice."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

Maxwell looked toward Quenivarius.

Then back at Liam.

"Immensely."

Quenivarius ignored him and returned to his notes.

Liam glanced over the surrounding repairs.

"How’s the work progressing?"

"Better than expected," Maxwell admitted. "The major control mechanisms are mostly repaired. Quenivarius and I finished checking the primary connections earlier. We’re handling the remaining structural adjustments while the Alchemy team works below."

"The system is ready for preliminary testing," Quenivarius corrected. "Not necessarily full operation. We cannot properly verify the command-routing lattice, district relays, or associated mechanisms until the reservoir supplies stable Myst."

"Which is what I was about to say," Maxwell muttered.

"Then your explanation would have benefited from greater specificity."

Maxwell closed his eyes briefly.

Liam decided there was no reason to remain long enough to witness a murder.

"Where are Sheila and Edith?"

"Downstairs," Maxwell said. "Reservoir chamber. They’ve been helping Ariana’s group with whatever they need."

"Still working on the crystal?"

"Unfortunately." Maxwell stepped away from the fitting and flexed his fingers. "Everything up here is waiting on that thing. We’ve done what we can without power."

Quenivarius adjusted his spectacles.

"Although the restoration’s physical readiness is encouraging, I would prefer that no one characterize the control system as fully repaired until its operational tolerances have been verified."

Maxwell gave Liam an exhausted look.

"See what I mean?"

Liam nodded faintly.

"Good luck."

"Don’t leave me with him."

"You seem adequately supervised."

Quenivarius looked satisfied.

Maxwell looked betrayed.

Liam thanked them for the information and continued toward the lower staircase, leaving Maxwell to resume his work under Quenivarius’s extremely detailed supervision.