The Villain Professor's Second Chance

"What the hell is going on in there?" one student asked, his voice low, as he stared wide-eyed at the flickering magical defenses that were struggling to contain the elements raging within. "They've been in there since last night. How are they still going?"

The question hung in the air, and no one seemed to have an answer. The junior professor, standing nearby, exchanged glances with a colleague, concern etched into his features. "Should we stop them?" he asked, his voice wavering. "It's been hours. If they keep this up, the defenses could fail. And if that happens…"

The unspoken words made everyone uncomfortable. The last thing anyone wanted was for the entire wing to be consumed in an out-of-control magical explosion. The magic generated from the two rooms wasn't just intense—it was dangerous.

"I don't know," the colleague replied, chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. He glanced down the hall at the trembling wards. "But we can't let this continue. If something goes wrong, we'll have more than just the rooms to worry about."

The air near Amberine's door shimmered with the heat radiating from inside. Sparks of fire magic crackled in the air, threatening to overwhelm the protective runes embedded in the walls. Meanwhile, on Elara's side, frost clung to the door, creeping outward as the temperature plummeted.

One of the senior professors—Magister Lenora, known for her cautious nature—stepped forward, clearly torn. "If we don't act now, this could escalate." She hesitated, as though weighing her words carefully. "But Draven..."

At the mention of Draven, the tension in the hallway shifted. Everyone knew Professor Draven. His reputation as one of the coldest, most calculating minds in the magical world was well-earned. His exams were notorious, pushing students to their absolute limits, and he rarely intervened once the test began.

Another professor, Magister Aldren, stepped forward, his expression grim. "He booked these rooms. If we interfere without his permission, there'll be consequences."

A few students near the back of the crowd exchanged nervous glances. No one wanted to be the one responsible for drawing Draven's ire. His punishment for interfering in his exams was rumored to be worse than the exams themselves.

"Are you suggesting we just leave them in there?" Lenora asked, her tone incredulous. "They've been in there for nearly twelve hours. The amount of mana they're generating—"

"Is exactly what Draven expects," Aldren interrupted, his voice firm. "He wouldn't have let them take the exam if they weren't capable. We intervene now, and we undermine his test."

The crowd murmured in agreement. As intense as the situation was, Draven's reputation was enough to hold them back. The junior professor from earlier shook his head, clearly conflicted. "This can't go on much longer. Even Draven wouldn't expect them to—"

The doors of both rooms rattled suddenly, the magic inside pushing harder against the wards. The hallway filled with an oppressive heat on one side and an icy chill on the other. Lenora swallowed hard, her hand twitching toward the runes on the door. "If we wait too long, it could be too late to intervene."

But no one made a move. The fear of Draven's wrath hung in the air, preventing any further action.

___

Inside Amberine's room, the temperature had risen to near-unbearable levels. Sweat dripped from her brow, and her flames flickered wildly as she stared down at the sixth question on the exam. Her hands shook, not from fatigue, but from the raw frustration boiling inside her. The sigil on the paper shifted in front of her eyes, changing forms between water, air, and lightning.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

She had been trying for what felt like hours to stabilize it, but every time she thought she had it under control, the damn thing would shift again.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" she muttered through gritted teeth, her fire spirit Ifrit crackling just beneath the surface of her robe, responding to her rising emotions.

Her mana was draining faster than she expected, and the protective wards in the room were struggling to keep up with the overwhelming heat. But she couldn't stop now. Her pride wouldn't allow it.

"Stupid sigil… hold still!" Amberine growled as she funneled more fire magic into her attempt to stabilize the sigil, her flames licking dangerously close to the ceiling. But it was no use. The shifting magic wouldn't respond to force. She knew that. But in her frustration, it was hard to think clearly.

Across the hall, Elara sat in the center of her room, her breath visible in the freezing air as she stared down at her own exam paper. Her room was eerily quiet, but the cold was palpable, as if the temperature itself was pressing down on her. She had been stuck on the seventh question for what felt like an eternity.

The problem required her to combine illusion magic with her elemental mastery over water and ice, but every attempt she made to blend the two resulted in the spell fizzling out before it could form fully.

Her golden mana glowed faintly around her fingertips, casting a soft light over the complex magical circle in front of her. It was intricate, delicate, and completely unforgiving of mistakes. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Unlike Amberine, Elara's frustration didn't manifest as fiery outbursts. Instead, it manifested as cold, calculating precision. She had been taught from a young age that emotions were a hindrance to magic, that a calm mind was the key to success. But even she couldn't deny that the pressure was mounting.

Her cold magic was pressing harder against the protective wards, and she could feel the temperature dropping dangerously low.

What frustrated her the most was knowing that Amberine was in the room beside her. Even though she couldn't see her, she could feel the heat radiating through the walls. The knowledge that Amberine was facing the same exam, working through the same questions, only fueled her determination to succeed. She couldn't let Amberine get ahead. She wouldn't.

But the seventh question was proving to be a challenge unlike any other. The problem required her to balance illusion magic with her elemental control, a task that demanded perfect harmony between two forces that rarely worked together. Every time she thought she had found the solution, the spell would unravel at the last moment.

Elara's breath slowed as she focused, her golden mana swirling gently around her as she made one final attempt. She traced the lines of the magical circle with her fingers, weaving her cold magic with a delicate thread of illusion.

It worked.

Find more adventures on empire

The spell held, the magic stabilizing as the projection on the paper came to life before her eyes. A small, ethereal figure emerged from the circle, shimmering with the combined power of water and illusion. Elara allowed herself a small, satisfied smile as the next question appeared on the paper.

At that exact moment, Amberine felt a breakthrough as well. Her flames had finally subdued the shifting sigil, locking it into its primary form. The sudden shift in her magic created a burst of heat, and the question she had been stuck on morphed into the next one.

For both of them, the exams had taken on a new intensity. Each question was connected, each answer leading into the next, and the further they progressed, the more the paper seemed to interact with their minds, projecting vivid images and scenarios that pushed their understanding of magic to its limits.

They were getting closer to the end, and the pressure only increased. They were no longer just solving problems—they were being tested in ways that went beyond simple spellcraft.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the air, cold and authoritative. "You two foolish neophytes. Come out."

Both Amberine and Elara froze, recognizing the voice immediately. Draven. The realization hit them like a wave of ice-cold water. They had been so caught up in the exam, so consumed by their own progress and frustrations, that they had forgotten where they were.

They were monopolizing the working rooms, pushing the wards to their limits, and worse, they were disrupting the entire magical space with their reckless mana usage.

They glanced at the walls of their rooms, realizing with a sinking feeling that the fluctuations in their magic had probably been affecting everyone outside.

They had made trouble for Draven.

In an instant, both of them scrambled to gather their things, their hearts pounding. The heat in Amberine's room subsided as she extinguished her flames, while the temperature in Elara's room began to rise as she reined in her cold magic.

As they hurried out of their respective rooms, they both flinched at the sight of the crowd gathered in the hallway. Amberine muttered a curse under her breath, while Elara remained silent, her face carefully blank despite the embarrassment creeping into her chest.

And then they saw Maris, standing at the end of the hall, her eyes tired but filled with warmth. She was holding a tray of food, a knowing smile on her face.

"Let's have a break!" Maris called out, her voice light and cheerful.

Amberine and Elara exchanged glances, realizing all at once that Draven's voice hadn't been real—it had been one of Maris's illusions. The tension in their bodies melted away, replaced by a mix of relief and frustration.

Amberine let out a laugh, shaking her head. "You've got to be kidding me."

Elara, though still silent, allowed the smallest of smiles to tug at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I do need some food,"