Chapter 3: Words Unleashed, Rules Rewritten

Lillian blinked in confusion, then saw me standing between her and Derek, my hand locked around his wrist.

I stepped forward protectively, putting myself between them without a second thought—just like that time I broke up a fight behind the 7-Eleven back home. “Picking on someone who can’t even defend herself—what kind of man does that make you?”

I squeezed his wrist, feeling his pulse flutter beneath my fingers. I held his gaze, refusing to flinch. Bullies always counted on people to back down. Not today.

Derek jerked free and sneered, “Fine, I’ll deal with you instead. I’ve been practicing living script since I could walk. I know thirty-six words—any one of them could kill you!”

He puffed out his chest like a prom king, pride gleaming in his eyes. He really thought those thirty-six words made him untouchable.

I grinned, playing it up. “Thirty-six words? That’s impressive!”

“Scared now?”

He thought he’d rattled me, grinning like he’d already won.

Here, the more words you could write, the bigger your status—like being a varsity athlete. Everyone wanted to make the team, but most never did.

Apprentice: ten words. Scholar: thirty. Fellow: sixty. Master: one-twenty. Doctor: two-forty. If you could write four-eighty, you were a Sage.

The air between us was thick with tension—each rank a new level of legend, like local heroes in a small town.

Above Sage was the mysterious Grand Sage—rumor had it, they could write five hundred words, even combine them, and shake the earth itself. But nobody had made it there in a generation.

People who could use living script were like varsity athletes—everyone wanted to be one, but most never made the team. No wonder Derek strutted around like he owned the place.

Derek’s voice dropped, cold and dangerous. “Die!”

He raised his pen to write, but I slapped him, hard, across the face.