Extra To Protagonist

Nathan swallowed audibly. "Y-Yes, Headmistress."

Morgana inclined her head, then turned smoothly, her steps carrying her down the aisle. Conversations resumed only after she vanished between the shelves, whispers rippling in her wake.

Merlin stared after her, his chest tight. She hadn't spoken his name. She hadn't needed to.

She knew.

And somehow, that was worse than if she had called him out in front of them all.

—

By the time the bells tolled evening, the group stumbled out of the library, eyes red and brains numb from too many runes. Nathan groaned dramatically, clutching his books to his chest.

"If I survive tomorrow, it'll be because Adrian forced me to memorize elemental counters and Elara scared me into actually reading."

Adrian muttered, "You're welcome."

Elara didn't reply.

Merlin glanced back once at the darkened windows of the library. His chest still ached where Morgana's gaze had pressed into him.

Tomorrow loomed closer.

And for the first time, he wondered if the exam would test more than just their strength.

—

The exam hall was nothing like the classrooms Merlin remembered.

Rows upon rows of desks stretched in perfect formation across the chamber, each one spaced so far apart that even the boldest student couldn't hope to cheat without getting caught.

The ceiling arched high above, warded with silver runes that shimmered faintly in the light of crystal lamps.

At the front of the room, a long oak desk stood raised on a platform, where examiners, stern, faceless figures robed in academy black, waited like judges before a trial.

Merlin stepped inside with the others, the sound of his boots muffled by the stone floor. His golden eyes scanned the hall. A hundred students, maybe more, were already filing in, each face pale with nerves or stiff with determination. Quills clicked against desks, parchment rustled, and somewhere to his left, someone was whispering a prayer under their breath.

Nathan let out a low groan beside him. "This is torture already. I thought we were warriors, not scribes."

"Both," Adrian said shortly, his eyes already measuring the room as if memorizing the exact distance between desks. "Knowledge is a weapon too."

Nathan made a face. "Yeah, well, this weapon doesn't swing an axe."

Elara, walking at Merlin's other side, didn't respond. Her violet eyes were fixed ahead, her expression unreadable as always. She carried herself like she had already passed.

Merlin's gaze drifted over the crowd. Whispers rippled wherever they walked. Students glanced at him, some with surprise, others with suspicion. His return hadn't gone unnoticed.

He ignored them all.

The four of them reached their assigned desks. Elara sat directly in front of Merlin, Nathan to his left, Adrian to his right. A cruel symmetry, as if fate had decided he'd endure this surrounded.

Merlin lowered himself into the chair, its wood creaking faintly. His body still felt heavier than it should, but not as weak as yesterday.

He laid his hands flat against the desk, fingers brushing the clean sheet of parchment waiting there. The quill beside it gleamed faintly, runes etched into its feather to keep ink flowing without pause.

A bell tolled once, low and heavy. The hall fell into silence.

One of the examiners stepped forward, her robe swaying. Vivienne, though today, she wore none of her usual strict warmth. Today she was an examiner, nothing more.

Her voice rang through the chamber, clear and sharp. "This is the first portion of your final assessment. You will have three hours. There will be no talking, no assistance, and no mercy for dishonesty. Should anyone attempt to cheat, the wards will know. And you will be expelled."

A murmur swept the students, then died instantly under her gaze.

"Begin."

The quills lifted into the air on their own, then dropped neatly into each student's hand. The parchment shimmered, questions etching themselves in neat black script across the surface.

Merlin's eyes scanned the first line.

Question 1: Describe the three primary methods of stabilizing a dual-element spell when cast under external mana interference. Provide examples.

He exhaled slowly, his quill already moving.

—

The hall filled with the faint scratch of ink. Nothing else. No coughs, no whispers. Just the relentless rhythm of thought turned to script.

Merlin's hand flowed steady, golden eyes narrowing with focus. Words came easily, too easily. His mind remembered not only what the academy had taught him, but fragments of Rathan's memories, countless layers of spellcraft and technique buried deep.

'Careful,' he thought, keeping his answers sharp but restrained. 'Too much knowledge, and they'll start asking why.'

He wrote of resonance alignment, of counter-mana layering, of isolating channels within one's core to prevent collapse. His handwriting was clean, controlled, as if he'd done this a thousand times.

Around him, others struggled. Nathan kept pausing, chewing on the end of his quill before scribbling furiously, then scratching half of it out. His blond hair stuck up in every direction, sweat already forming on his brow.

Adrian wrote with precise, soldierly strokes, his posture rigid, his eyes never leaving the page.

Elara's hand moved quickly, unhesitating, as if she'd memorized every answer long ago.

Merlin glanced down again.

Question 4: Discuss the theoretical risks of overexertion in ice affinity users when exposed to environments of extreme heat. Cite at least two case studies.

His quill dipped smoothly, sketching a concise explanation, how abrupt mana shifts could fracture an ice-user's channels, how historical duels had shown catastrophic collapses of control.

He remembered Seraphina Alden, how she'd wielded ice with such disciplined force. His chest tightened faintly, but he pressed on.

The hall remained still. Only the sound of thought.

—

Two hours passed.

Merlin leaned back for a moment, flexing his fingers. He'd finished nearly every question already, though he forced himself to slow near the end, pretending to deliberate. His golden eyes drifted across the room.

Dozens of students still scribbled frantically. Nathan looked as though he might cry into his parchment. Adrian hadn't moved except to write. Elara was already on her last page.

Merlin's gaze flicked farther, and stilled.

At the far end of the hall, Morgana stood near the back wall. Not on the examiners' platform. Not near the desks. Just… there. Watching.

Her emerald eyes were fixed on him, as sharp as the day before.

Merlin's chest tightened. He forced his gaze back down to his parchment, quill scratching again as if nothing had happened.

But he felt her presence like a blade against his neck the entire time.

—

The final bell tolled.

"Quills down," Vivienne ordered.

Every quill froze mid-stroke, then clattered softly against desks. The parchments shimmered, words glowing faintly before vanishing, sealed and transported by enchantment to the examiners' table.

A collective exhale rippled through the hall.

Nathan slumped forward dramatically, groaning. "Three hours of torture. My hand's broken. Someone bury me now."

Adrian muttered, "You should have studied more."

Nathan shot him a glare but lacked the energy to reply.

Elara stood smoothly, adjusting her spear case as if nothing had happened. Her expression didn't change, but there was a quiet confidence in her eyes.

Merlin rose slower, his body still stiff from the long sit. He glanced once toward the back wall—

Morgana was gone.

His golden eyes narrowed faintly, but he said nothing.

—

Outside the exam hall, the air felt different. Lighter, even though the real trials were yet to come. Students clustered in groups, whispering about which questions they'd failed, which they'd nailed, and which had been trick questions planted to ruin them.

Nathan dragged his feet beside Merlin, grumbling. "They wanted case studies? Who remembers case studies? I barely remember my own name right now."

"You spelled it wrong once," Adrian said flatly.

Nathan shoved him, half-hearted. "Shut up."

Elara walked ahead, her stride unhurried. She didn't glance back, but her voice carried. "You'll need more discipline tomorrow. Complaints won't save you."

Nathan groaned louder. "Why are all the women in my life terrifying?"

Merlin almost smiled. Almost.

His gaze drifted skyward. Clouds shifted lazily above the academy spires, the sun glinting off their stone. Tomorrow, everything would change again.

And somehow, he knew Morgana would be waiting.

—

The training grounds had been transformed.

Rows of wooden dummies, shattered stone targets, and conjured obstacles filled the arena, but all of them were overshadowed by the massive warded circle etched into the ground's center.

Runes blazed faintly around its edge, humming with restrained energy. Above, barrier crystals floated at even intervals, casting down a dome of translucent light that sealed the battlefield away from the onlookers.

Students lined the perimeter, their chatter echoing like restless birds. Some bounced nervously on their feet, others sharpened weapons, adjusted armor, or whispered last-minute strategies.

Merlin stood with the rest of his class, golden eyes sweeping the arena. He'd seen arenas before. Real ones. Where blood never washed clean from the stone.

This… this was tamed, civilized. And yet the way the students shifted, the way their gazes darted, fear and anticipation lived here just the same.

Vivienne stood at the edge of the circle, her golden hair catching the morning sun. Her usual warmth was gone again, replaced by the strict sharpness of an examiner. At her side was Reinhardt, his black hair tied back, beard shadowing his stern jaw. His arms were crossed, his presence alone silencing half the whispers.