Extra To Protagonist

Before Nathan could reply, the door slammed open.

Vivienne Dorne swept in, her long blonde hair tied high, robes snapping against her legs as she moved with crisp authority. Her brown eyes scanned the room once, and the chatter died instantly.

She carried no books, no notes, no clutter. Just the weight of her presence.

"Sit straighter," she said sharply. "If you're too lazy to hold yourselves upright, you won't survive what's coming."

A ripple of nervous laughter stirred, then died under her glare.

Merlin sat a little straighter himself. Vivienne wasn't Reinhardt, wasn't Morgana, but she had a fire in her veins that could make even hardened fighters hesitate.

Her gaze swept the rows, lingering only a fraction longer when it landed on Merlin. No sympathy. No softness. Just acknowledgment. Then she turned, setting a hand against the desk at the front.

"Final examinations begin tomorrow."

The room went silent.

Nathan's jaw dropped. "Tomorrow?"

A few students groaned audibly, others muttered panicked protests.

Vivienne's voice cut through it all, calm and sharp as steel. "Yes. Tomorrow. Did you think this academy waited for anyone? The schedule was set months ago. If you've been slacking, if you've been leaning on excuses, then fail. The world won't soften for you."

Her words cracked like a whip.

Merlin's stomach twisted. Tomorrow.

He wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't. His body still ached just from walking. His mana flow was sluggish, his strength halved from what it had been in the gods' cage. And yet—

Vivienne's eyes sharpened. "This is not just a test of strength. Final exams are designed to measure control, growth, and resolve. You will be challenged beyond your comfort. That is the point. Because outside these walls, no one waits until you are ready."

Merlin's fingers clenched beneath the desk. Those words cut too close.

Nathan leaned over, whispering, "We're so screwed."

Merlin exhaled through his nose. "…Maybe."

But something in him stirred, a faint ember, a stubborn refusal. He had walked through fire already. He had crawled through blood, through false realities, through gods' games. Whatever the academy thought an exam was, it couldn't break him worse than that.

Vivienne straightened. "I will say this only once: tomorrow will decide how you are placed for the next term. Your future here does not begin with comfort—it begins with proof. Prove yourselves, or leave."

The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. Then the faint scratch of quills began as some students scribbled frantic notes. Others whispered prayers under their breath.

Merlin sat still, golden eyes fixed forward, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

Tomorrow.

The word weighed like a blade at his throat.

—

The bell rang, releasing them, but no one moved easily. Conversations buzzed low, nervous. Some students muttered about late-night practice. Others groaned about needing another day.

Merlin rose carefully, his body stiff. Nathan fell in step beside him, Adrian trailing behind with his usual soldier's calm.

"So," Nathan said, attempting cheer. "Final exams. Can't wait to fail spectacularly."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "You'll pass."

"Easy for you to say, axe-boy."

Adrian's lips twitched. "You talk too much."

Merlin let their banter wash over him, his own mind locked on tomorrow. His body wasn't ready. His strength was barely touching six stars again, still fragile. And yet there was no running from this.

They reached the courtyard, the air buzzing with chatter from every direction. Groups gathered in circles, some already sparring, others flipping through rune books with panicked eyes.

Elara brushed past them silently, her violet gaze steady. "You'll overthink it if you waste today," she murmured without slowing.

Nathan blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Merlin's lips curved faintly. "It means train smart, not desperate."

Her silver hair vanished into the crowd.

Merlin tilted his head back, eyes narrowing at the blue stretch of sky above. Tomorrow loomed like a storm just past the horizon.

And this time, there would be no gods to warp reality, no illusions to hide behind.

Just him. His strength. His truth.

He exhaled slowly, fists tightening. "…Then I'll stand."

—

The library doors creaked as Merlin pushed them open, the faint scent of parchment and candlewax spilling out to meet him.

The space was vast, a cathedral of knowledge, rows of towering shelves vanishing into the high arches above.

Enchanted lanterns floated along the aisles, casting warm light that glimmered against polished wood tables. The air hummed faintly with warding spells, the kind that kept voices hushed and fires extinguished before they could touch a single page.

Nathan slipped in behind him, balancing a stack of books that already looked taller than his head. "I figured, if we're gonna die tomorrow, might as well drown in paper first."

Adrian followed, less burdened, carrying only a single thick tome under one arm. His soldier's stride never faltered. "You won't drown if you actually read."

Nathan muttered, "Oh, shut up."

Elara moved past all of them without pause, her violet eyes flicking across the rows until she selected a table near the window. She set her spear case down beside her chair, not because she'd need it in here, but because it never left her side.

Merlin trailed last, his steps measured, his golden eyes scanning the familiar space. He hadn't been here since before the labyrinth, before the false worlds and gods' laughter. The silence felt almost too pure, too untouched.

But it was real.

He lowered himself carefully into a chair across from Elara. His body still ached, but not as much as yesterday. Each day, strength crept back like a tide.

Nathan dumped his books onto the table with a crash that earned him a dozen irritated glares from nearby students. He winced, offering sheepish grins, then slumped into his seat. "Okay. Strategy. We don't know what the exam looks like, right?"

Adrian set his single tome down, voice calm. "It will test mana control, theory, and combat adaptability. The academy doesn't change its foundation. Only the details."

"Great. Details are what kill you." Nathan flipped one of his books open, squinting at the cramped handwriting. "Anyone remember what Professor Ashford said about triple-layer rune sequences?"

Elara didn't look up. "If you need to 'remember' the night before the exam, you've already failed."

Nathan groaned and let his forehead fall against the table. "She's ruthless."

Merlin smirked faintly. "She's not wrong."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. For a moment, it almost felt like before, before the labyrinth, before the white-haired man's eyes, before Rathan's memories burned into his soul. Just… students at a table, studying too late, panicking before exams.

Adrian cracked his book open, the scent of old ink rising. "Let's go over elemental counters. They always include a scenario where you're forced to fight outside your affinity."

Nathan lifted his head, hair a mess. "So what, like fire versus water? That's easy."

"Not easy," Elara corrected, flipping a page with sharp precision. "Situational. If you depend on textbook logic, you'll die. Fire can evaporate water if pressure and temperature are manipulated correctly. Water can drown fire if it's in large enough volume. But control, not element, decides victory."

Nathan stared at her. "…Are you saying I should set myself on fire if I fight a water mage?"

Merlin snorted quietly, and for once Elara's lips twitched, almost a smile.

"Don't encourage him," Adrian muttered.

The pages turned. Candles flickered. Around them, other students muttered at their own tables, scratching quills and flipping frantically through books. The tension of tomorrow pressed heavy in the air, filling every corner of the library.

Merlin leaned back slightly, fingers drumming against the table. His golden eyes scanned the runes in front of him, but the words blurred at the edges. His mind kept circling back to something else.

Six stars.

Morgana's gaze cutting into him yesterday, precise and certain. She knew. The others thought he was still barely recovering, still weak. Only Morgana had seen past the surface.

'She won't tell them,' Merlin thought. 'Not yet. But why? What does she gain, keeping my secret?'

His jaw tightened. He dragged his eyes back to the page. Focus.

"…Merlin?"

Nathan's voice broke through his thoughts. Merlin blinked, realizing the others were staring at him.

"What?"

"You zoned out," Nathan said, brows furrowed. "I asked—if your element got locked, which one would you pick to fight with?"

Merlin hesitated. His instincts screamed all of them. Lightning, wind, water, even the warped knowledge of space he had glimpsed in the labyrinth. But he couldn't say that.

"Wind," he said simply.

Nathan nodded. "Figures. Fast and flashy."

Adrian studied him a moment too long, then returned to his book. Elara's gaze lingered as well, unreadable, before dropping back to the rune she was tracing with her fingertip.

Merlin let out a breath, relief disguised as annoyance.

They studied like that for hours. Nathan complained every thirty minutes, Adrian shut him down with curt replies, Elara corrected them both with icy precision, and Merlin offered just enough to keep the balance.

It was almost normal.

Until the shadow fell across their table.

Merlin felt it before he saw it. The faint shift in the air, the prickle along his skin, the sudden silence of every conversation within ten feet.

He looked up.

Morgana stood at the head of their table.

The Headmistress's presence filled the space effortlessly, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders like ink, her emerald eyes sharp as blades. She wore no extravagant robes, only simple black attire, yet the weight of her aura pressed heavier than any crown.

The students around them froze, their whispers choking silent.

"Studying," Morgana said, her voice smooth, cutting. "Good."

Nathan sat up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. Adrian inclined his head respectfully. Elara remained still, but her violet eyes sharpened.

Merlin's heart thudded once, hard.

Morgana's gaze drifted over the group, lingering on each of them in turn. Approval for Adrian's discipline. A flicker of annoyance at Nathan's nervous fidgeting. A cool acknowledgment for Elara.

Then her eyes landed on Merlin.

And held.

He felt pinned, like an insect beneath glass. Her gaze didn't just look at him, it measured, peeled, weighed.

Her lips curved the faintest fraction. Not a smile. More like recognition.

"You'll need more than books tomorrow," she said softly. "But discipline begins here. Do not squander the hours you have left."