CHAPTER 211: HOW TO PREPARE YOUR UNIFORM

Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia entered rooms sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen respectively.

Upon stepping inside, Eleanor paused to take in her surroundings. The chamber was larger than any changing room she had ever seen, though not nearly the size of her own bedroom. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were made of a matte black metal, cool and severe, without a single trace of ornament. The place was barren, devoid of furniture or fittings... except for a humanoid, black-coloured robot standing motionless at the far end.

"Nora, is this room safe?" she asked silently.

"The walls are layered with nullsteel and filled with obsidian, the same for the door, floor, and ceiling. From what I know, this chamber should be resistant to magical probes, divination spells, and it is also soundproof. The light you see is from dozens of small lumen crystals embedded in the ceiling. As for the robot... it appears to be fully autonomous, without any link to systems outside this room." Nora replied.

The door behind her sealed shut with a soft hiss. At that instant, the robot’s eyes flickered to life, glowing faintly as it stirred.

"Welcome to the Academy, werewolf," it intoned in a flat, mechanical voice. "You are now inside the measurement chamber. I will record your full body measurement and help you with the uniform and other clothes suitable for your term at the Academy. Please remove all clothing and accessories and place them to the side. Then stand upon the marked position at the centre of the room. You may ask questions if they concern my task. I can answer only matters related to measurement and outfitting."

Just as the robot said, a glowing cross flared into existence on the floor. At the same time, Nora informed, "The robot is connected to some machines behind the back wall."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow and loudly spoke. "Why must I remove my clothes? Can you not measure my size over them?"

The robot answered without pause. "I was programmed to acquire exact body measurements so the tailoring system may craft your first uniform. Accuracy is necessary. Any error could lead to complications during battle."

Eleanor crossed her arms. "And how do you account for transformation? I can hardly fight without considering my werewolf form."

"The protocol varies by species," the robot said. "Cadets are required to remain in human form throughout the Academy, except when within the combat arenas. I am programmed to record both your human body and your partially transformed state. The tailoring system will then construct a uniform capable of shifting with you. As for your complete beast form... no attire is required. Any garments or accessories not embedded into your body are displaced into a separate dimension during transformation and return to you, unchanged, when you revert to human form."

Eleanor nodded. "You spoke of other clothes. What garments are needed beyond the uniform?"

The robot answered, "You will be provided three sets of uniform, robes for different occasions, innerwear, shoes, and gloves. For now, you will receive only one complete set... uniform, innerwear, shoes, and gloves. The rest will be delivered directly to your dormitory. Now, please proceed. This step is mandatory; there is no alternative."

"Very well," Eleanor said, and began removing her clothes piece by piece until her form stood bare beneath the muted glow.

Her figure was proportioned with effortless harmony, firm yet fluid. Smooth skin stretched unbroken across her frame, her breasts full and rounded, poised with natural symmetry. Her waist curved inward before widening into hips that balanced her posture, each line carved with quiet strength.

Her legs were long and sculpted, carrying both grace and latent power, every contour flowing seamlessly into the next. From her shoulders to her ankles, her body spoke of refinement and unyielding vitality... a form at once disciplined and distinctly feminine.

The robot regarded her without reaction, its gaze empty, mechanical, untouched by meaning.

Leaving her belongings neatly aside, she stepped to the centre of the room and stood upon the glowing mark. "Well, I am ready. You may take the measurements now," she said.

"Thank you. Please remain still," the robot replied. It glided forward, not walking but rolling on hidden wheels beneath its feet.

As it stopped before her, its eyes blazed with sudden light, casting beams that swept across her body. Rays crossed and interlaced, tracing her outline in delicate grids of brilliance. Slowly, the machine circled her, light spilling from every angle until at last its eyes dimmed to their earlier glow.

"Human measurements complete," it declared. "Now, partially transform to the extent where clothing will still be required. This will allow your uniform to adapt properly to your altered form."

"Understood," Eleanor said, and let the shift ripple through her body.

Her shoulders swelled first, muscles thickening with dense, unnatural weight, stretching her frame taller and more commanding. Arms lengthened subtly, cords of sinew tightening beneath skin. Fingers curled, nails sharpening into blackened claws that caught the dim light with a feral glint.

Her face changed next... the human mask reshaping but not yet lost. The jaw thrust forward, teeth lengthening into predatory points, though her eyes burned clear, rimmed now with an emerald glow that pierced through the shadows. Her ears rose and tapered, edged with lupine sharpness, while a dusting of coarse fur crept along her jawline, neck, and forearms.

Her torso shifted, ribcage expanding as her breath grew deeper, more primal. Skin rippled as patches of fur sprouted across her chest and sides. Her waist narrowed before spilling into hips and legs reshaped by power. Thighs knotted with coiled strength, calves drew taut as her feet elongated, toes splitting into clawed digits ready to dig into the ground.

Finally, she said, "This is the limit of my transformation for now. One more push, and I will be fully transformed."

"Please remain still," the robot instructed as it began scanning again. Beams of light traced her figure in a slow circle. When it completed its circuit, it said, "You may return to your human form."

Eleanor complied, her body shifting back into its human state.

The robot continued, "Measurements complete. Now, you must take the next steps. First, sort your belongings. Potions, herbs, or magical artefacts that you intend to use for strengthening body or mind may be registered at the Exchange Desk. If professors permit their use, the Exchange will deliver them accordingly. Items not permitted must be stored within your ring. If you are uncertain about any item, you may present it to me for evaluation."

Eleanor walked to the pile of her clothes and accessories on the floor. She placed everything into her storage ring, save for three jade bottles of varying sizes.

"I wish to bring these three," she said. "I intend to hire someone to refine them into a bloodline potion."

The robot rolled forward, eyes glowing as a scanning ray swept across the bottles. "A five-petal Moonpetal flower... though one petal has already been lost. Two petals alone are sufficient for a bloodline potion. A fang from an elder werewolf. And volcanic ash from a dead mountain. These are permissible. Submit them at the Exchange for registry if you intend to commission a potion."

Eleanor gave a small nod. "Thank you. Now that I’ve sorted my belongings, may I have my uniform?"

"Not yet," the robot replied. "There is a preliminary step. This is a cleansing potion. You must drink it."

Its torso opened with a soft hiss, revealing a narrow compartment. From within it drew a small bottle, which it offered to her.

Eleanor accepted the vial and turned it in her hand. "Nora, is this safe?" she asked inwardly.

"I cannot identify its exact properties," Nora answered, "but it is not poison. I sense no lethal effect. There is, however, a peculiar energy within it... unfamiliar to my records."

"Then there is no choice but to try," Eleanor murmured in her mind.

She opened the bottle and swallowed the contents in a single draught. The liquid was unexpectedly sweet, but almost at once her body tingled with a faint, restless energy.

"It purged many microbes from your body," Nora observed. "And that strange energy has stimulated your cells... a form of rejuvenation."

Eleanor lowered the bottle, her gaze returning to the robot. It raised its arms, releasing a fine mist of white vapour that spread across the chamber, curling around both walls and her body.

"Again, the same liquid," Nora remarked. "But dispersed in vapour form."

When the mist cleared, the robot announced, "Cleansing complete. You may now don your academy uniform. Proceed to the rear of the room... your garments are ready for you. Please dress yourself before leaving this room."

Eleanor walked to the back of the room. The faint vapour had already dispersed, leaving the air clean and cool. Against the wall rested a narrow platform, upon which lay neatly folded garments in varying shades of green, a pair of gloves, and a pair of boots.

She lifted the muted forest-green tunic first and drew it over her body. Its fabric bore no visible seams; it clung to her form like living leaf-skin, smooth and supple, moving with her rather than against her, offering comfort yet complete freedom.

Next, she pulled on the leggings, their tone a deeper green. Sleek and pliant, they held a natural sheen, as though spun from ivy itself, wrapping her legs in a snug but unrestrictive embrace. She layered the darker green trousers over them, the weave firmer, with hardened panels set subtly about the knees for protection.

Reaching for the fitted coat, she paused a moment to take in its craft. The garment was fashioned of layered panels that resembled overlapping leaves, hardened into armour-like scales. Flowing and elegant, yet carrying the edge of battle, it bore sharp ridges along the shoulders, lending her a regal, martial bearing. She cinched it about her waist with a belt of darker green, its surface resembling finely worked leather.

Then came the footwear. She slid on the pale green socks, soft against her skin, before stepping into the boots. Though they looked like leather, their surface carried a woody texture, as if alive, the green-brown hues shifting faintly under the light. Their soles, ridged with subtle grooves, promised both grip and quiet movement.

Last were the gloves. Reinforced with the strength of layered leaf-fibre, they bore faint natural veins across their surface, as though life still coursed within them. The fingertips darkened into a deeper shade of green, suggesting rooted power gathered in her grasp.

When she stood upright at last, fully clothed, the transformation was complete. No longer a cadet preparing for a trial... she looked like a goddess ready to march into war.