The Legend of Dungsworth

3. Wonder

The morning sun crept into the courtyard. Quincy Dungsworth stirred awake, only to see the very girl he had wept for last night bouncing beside him.

“Quin-Ge! Quin-Ge!” Lila Liet shouted, shaking his shoulders with all her might.

“Lila?” Quincy rubbed his eyes a few times before sitting up.

It was strange. Just last night, Lila had been covered in blood and torn apart by wounds, on the verge of death. Yet now, in the span of one night, she looked perfectly fine—completely healed, without the faintest scar.

“Quin-Ge, why are we sleeping in the courtyard? I thought the tiger had eaten me alive last night! Did you save me?” she asked with her usual chattiness.

“I… I don’t know,” Quincy admitted. “I thought you were dying. But when I held you, my body suddenly felt weak—like you drained away all my energy. Then I blacked out.”

“Me? I drained your energy? No way!”

“I don’t understand it either,” Quincy smiled faintly. “But I’m just glad you’re back to your noisy self.”

Lila beamed, her dimples showing.

---

When they returned to the Ironhart Institute, Mr. Liet immediately rushed to embrace his daughter. He had been worried sick after she failed to come home the previous night.

“Where have you been? I searched everywhere for you,” he scolded, holding her face in both hands.

“Um… sorry, Father, I…” Lila faltered. She couldn’t possibly tell him the truth. If she did, he’d lock her inside the Institute for good.

“Forgive us, sir,” Quincy bowed politely. “Lila was playing with me. We got carried away, and before we knew it, we fell asleep in the courtyard.”

“Oh? So you can talk after all. I thought you were mute, like the rumors say,” Mr. Liet raised a brow.

“Only I know that Quin-Ge isn’t mute!” Lila grinned proudly, flashing her teeth.

“That’s because you never stop talking!” Mr. Liet teased, tugging her nose.

---

He brought them both to class. Though Lila was still too young, he always let her sit in and listen.

Class 1F had only four students. All had physical disabilities—except Quincy. There was Aisha Li (deaf girl), Annika Kang (lame girl), and Barry Thael (blind boy). Despite their conditions, all three had already awakened their Spiritual Cores at the age of seven. Quincy, nearing nine years old, had yet to awaken his own.

While the others trained to form Spiritual Orbs, Quincy was still being guided in shaping his core. He could already do it, but whenever he demonstrated in front of the teacher, he deliberately failed.

Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on his classmates’ practice. Seeing this, Mr. Liet said:

“If you want to practice forming orbs, you must first awaken your core.”

“Oh!” Quincy’s focus broke. “I understand, Master. Forgive me.” He lowered his head.

“It’s not your fault. I know you’ve tried. Stay determined! You may train outside if it helps you focus,” the teacher encouraged.

“Yay! Quin-Ge, let’s go outside and train!” Lila cheered.

“No, Lila. You’ll only distract him,” Mr. Liet said firmly.

Her lips curled into a pout. “Aw, come on, Father! I swear I won’t disturb him!”

Quincy knelt down. “I’ll train in the Dry Grounds. You can come watch me during the break, Lila.”

Her smile returned instantly. Quincy bowed with clasped fists to Mr. Liet, then headed out.

---

On the Dry Grounds, Quincy began his training. Gathering Spiritual Energy into his palm, he formed a glowing orb the size of his hand. Then, with his other hand, another orb appeared.

One by one, he hurled them across the field.

Whooosh!

Boom! Boom!

But just as he was about to form another, a group of Class 1C students appeared.

“Hey, look who it is!” one of them, Jett Flint, pointed.

“The Filthy Brat! Hahaha!” his friends joined in, laughing.

One boy shoved Quincy roughly. “Get lost, Filthy Brat! This is our training ground. You’re just making it dirty!”

The others closed in, sneering.

“Yeah, scram before we stomp you flat!” Jett folded his arms smugly.

A moment later, their teacher arrived—Master Flint, father of Jett and Calder Flint, instructor of Class 1C. He gathered his students, then saw Quincy sitting in the dirt.

“Leave. This ground is reserved for Class 1C today. Your presence only distracts my students. Do you understand?” he ordered coldly.

Quincy rose, nodded silently, and walked away. His back straight, his eyes calm.

I have to endure. Let them mock me. When the Advancement Exam comes, I’ll show them all…

---

He searched for another training spot. The back of the library was occupied.

“No. I need somewhere completely deserted.”

Then he remembered—the northeast courtyard, a place no one dared approach. Rumors claimed it was once an execution ground, where traitors and rebels were buried.

The Forsaken Courtyard.

Whispers spoke of eerie voices—lamentations of the dead. No one dared set foot there.

But Quincy didn’t care. Rumors meant nothing to him.

If I die… who would care anyway?

And with that, he stepped into the forbidden place alone.