Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World!

"Hum, Harold."

I turned toward Alicia who seemed hesitant to speak.

"What is it, Lady Alicia?" I asked, noting how she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

She paused, seeming to gather her thoughts before speaking. "I noticed that you had left very quickly from the written exam... was it okay?" The concern in her voice was genuine, tinged with the kind of worry that suggested she'd been mulling over this question for some time. "I mean, you finished so fast that I wondered if perhaps..." She trailed off, but her meaning was clear enough.

It was understandable. Most students who finished examinations that quickly were either prodigies or had given up entirely. Given my previously empty academy records, she likely suspected the latter.

"I did what I could," I said simply.

Alicia studied my face for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if trying to read something in my expression. "You seem quite confident, Harold. Again."

"Well, you as well," I replied, observing her own composed demeanor despite her earlier worry.

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I suppose we'll see soon enough how well that confidence serves us."

"Now only rests the practical exam and we are good," I said, gesturing toward the large stone building ahead of us.

"Yes," Alicia nodded, her expression growing more serious. "It should be just ahead."

As we rounded the corner, the sight that greeted us was exactly what I'd expected – a massive crowd of students gathered before the closed doors of the examination arena. The building itself was an impressive structure, built from the same dark stone as the academy's main towers, with reinforced walls designed to contain magical energies. Scorch marks and patches of different colored stone told the story of countless examinations that had taken place within its walls.

The line of students stretched back further than I'd anticipated, with groups clustered together based on social circles and academic standings. The noble children stood with perfect posture near the front, their expensive uniforms pristine and their conversations conducted in the sort of hushed, important tones that suggested they were discussing strategy rather than expressing nervousness. The commoner students, by contrast, shifted restlessly and spoke in quick, anxious bursts about what they might be asked to demonstrate.

We found our place in the queue and settled in to wait. The process was methodical – groups of ten students were called forward every fifteen minutes or so, disappearing behind the heavy oak doors before emerging later with expressions ranging from elated to devastated.

As we inched closer to the front, I noticed Alicia's breathing becoming more shallow, her hands beginning to tremble almost imperceptibly.

"I am nervous again..." She admitted quietly, her usual noble composure cracking slightly as she watched another group disappear into the arena.

Without thinking, I reached out and grasped her hand. The contact was warm, and I could feel the slight tremor running through her fingers.

"H...Harold?" She looked up at me with wide eyes, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she seemed caught off guard by the gesture.

"It will be fine," I said, to reassure her.

Human touch was doing wonders in such times.

"Just show them what you are capable of. If you tremble, you will lose control over your magic."

Alicia took a deep breath, seeming to draw strength from both my words and the steady pressure of my hand holding hers. "Yes..." she nodded, her trembling gradually subsiding.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. We watched as group after group was called forward, the successful applicants emerging with proud grins while others slunk out looking defeated. Some came out with minor injuries – singed eyebrows, small cuts, or the telltale signs of magical exhaustion. One student was actually carried out by academy healers, apparently having attempted something well beyond his capabilities.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only thirty minutes, our group was called.

"Next ten, forward!" bellowed a stern-faced proctor.

We filed through the doors and into the arena proper. The space was larger than it had appeared from outside – a circular chamber with a domed ceiling that seemed to absorb sound and light. The floor was made of some kind of reinforced stone that bore the scars of countless magical demonstrations, and the air itself seemed to hum with residual magical energy.

Scattered around the arena were examination stations, each staffed by two or three academy instructors who would serve as our evaluators. They were an intimidating bunch – veteran mages whose mere presence commanded respect, their robes bearing the insignia of various magical disciplines.

At each station stood a practice dummy, but these weren't the simple straw-filled targets we'd trained with in basic classes. These were sophisticated constructs, designed to withstand and accurately measure the impact of magical attacks. They were humanoid in shape but clearly artificial, with runes carved into their wooden frames that would glow to indicate the power and precision of any spell that struck them.

"Here, stand before a dummy," instructed one of the evaluators, a middle-aged woman with silver hair and keen eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

Each of us moved to an assigned station, the spacing arranged so that our demonstrations wouldn't interfere with each other. I found myself positioned between Alicia and a noble boy.

"Now show us what you are capable of," the lead examiner announced. His instruction was deliberately vague, I realized. This wasn't about following specific parameters – they wanted to see how we interpreted the challenge, what we considered our strongest abilities, and how we performed under pressure.

The noble boy beside me stepped forward first, his confidence evident in every movement.

"Easy. Burn!" He shouted with theatrical flair, raising his hand toward his assigned dummy.

The spell that emerged was textbook fire magic – a ball of flame roughly the size of a tennis ball that shot forward in a clean arc. It struck the dummy squarely in the center of its chest, leaving behind a trail of flickering fire that gradually died down to reveal a moderately impressive scorch mark.

"Wow..." breathed the student next to him, clearly impressed by the display.

The examiners observing nodded their heads appreciatively, scribbling notes on their evaluation forms with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm for such a basic demonstration.

I had to suppress a snort of amusement. If this was the level that impressed them, they clearly hadn't been exposed to truly advanced fire magic. If they could see what Rosaluna was capable of – the way she could conjure flames that burned in colors that shouldn't exist, or create fire that selectively consumed only what she willed it to – they might actually faint from the shock.

The other students took their turns, each demonstrating their chosen specialty with varying degrees of success. There was a girl who created a shower of light particles that danced around her dummy like tiny stars, another who caused the stone floor beneath his target to crack and shift, and a boy who managed to create a small whirlwind that knocked his dummy backwards a few inches.

With each demonstration, the pattern became clear. These were all competent applications of basic magical principles, the sort of spells that any properly trained student should be able to manage after a few years of study. Nothing revolutionary, nothing that pushed the boundaries of what magic could accomplish, but solid fundamentals executed with reasonable skill.

"You can go whenever you want," called the examiner stationed near Alicia and me, apparently noting that we hadn't moved to demonstrate yet.

I glanced at Alicia and nodded encouragingly.

"Yes..." She replied, her voice carrying a new note of determination that hadn't been there during our wait in line.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering herself in the way that all serious practitioners learned to do before attempting significant magic.

Then, slowly, I felt it beginning.

Magical energy started to emanate from her body like a gentle breeze, but there was something deeper underneath – a current of power that made the air around her shimmer slightly. Her green hair, normally held in place by careful styling, began to lift and move as if touched by an unfelt wind.

My eyes widened as I truly felt the extent of Alicia's magical presence for the first time. This wasn't the modest talent I'd expected from a minor noble's daughter. This was something else entirely.

The transformation continued for several more seconds, her entire form beginning to glow with a soft green radiance that seemed to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. The other students had stopped their own preparations to stare, sensing that something significant was about to happen.

When she finally raised her hand, her whole body was suffused with magical energy, the green light emanating from her skin like captured starlight.

What happened next defied the expectations everyone in the room had formed based on the previous demonstrations.

A concentrated gust of wind erupted from her outstretched palm – not the gentle breeze one might expect from a beginner's wind magic, but a focused torrent of air that moved with the precision of a blade and the force of a battering ram. It struck the practice dummy with a sound like thunder, and the reinforced construct that had withstood dozens of previous attacks simply... disintegrated.

The dummy didn't just fall over or suffer damage – it was torn apart at the molecular level, shredded into pieces so small they resembled sawdust more than wood. The magical runes that had been carved into its frame flared briefly with brilliant light before being scattered to the winds along with everything else.

When the magical energies finally dissipated and the air settled, nothing remained of Alicia's target except a small pile of wooden debris.

A profound silence fell over the entire arena. Every conversation stopped, every movement ceased, every eye turned to stare at the young woman who stood calmly in the center of what had once been an examination station.

I found myself genuinely shocked, not by the raw power she'd displayed – I'd sensed that building up – but by the absolute control she'd maintained throughout. That level of precision, the ability to completely destroy a target without affecting anything around it, suggested mastery that went far beyond what any student should possess.

What exactly had she been nervous about? The girl who'd just performed what amounted to master-level wind magic had been worried about a simple academy examination?

Looking at the scattered remains of her target, I realized that Alicia's magical talent wasn't just above average – it was at the very top of what was theoretically possible for someone her age. The kind of natural ability that appeared perhaps once in a generation, if that.

Despite the magnitude of what she'd just accomplished, Alicia still seemed uncertain as she glanced toward the panel of examiners. They sat frozen in their chairs, their evaluation forms forgotten as they tried to process what they'd just witnessed.

It took them several long seconds to recover their composure. When they finally did, they began writing with frantic urgency, their pens moving across the evaluation forms as they struggled to find words adequate to describe what they'd seen.

"Alicia Lindow," the lead examiner called.

"Yes?" Alicia replied, her tone suggesting she had no idea how exceptional her demonstration had been.

"Stand aside, please," the main examiner instructed, though his tone made it clear this wasn't a dismissal but rather an indication that her evaluation was complete – and successful.

Alicia nodded and moved to stand beside the examination panel, her cheeks still flushed from the exertion of channeling so much magical energy.

Now all eyes turned to me.

I stepped forward to face my assigned dummy, very aware that I was following an act that would be difficult to match. The silence in the arena was different now – where before it had been the quiet of anticipation, now it carried the weight of expectation.

How should I approach this?

The conventional wisdom would be to hold back, to demonstrate competent but unremarkable magic that wouldn't draw unwanted attention or invite uncomfortable questions about where I'd learned such techniques. Play it safe, show enough ability to pass the examination, but not so much as to overshadow the other students or raise suspicions about my true capabilities.

I looked at the dummy, then at the expectant faces around me, and felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

No. There was no need for that kind of restraint.

I raised my hand, focusing my will and drawing upon the wellspring of magical knowledge that had become as natural to me as breathing.

The spell I crafted wasn't showy like the noble boy's fireball, nor was it as visually spectacular as Alicia's wind display. It was simply water, compressed and accelerated to a degree that transformed it from a life-giving element into something far more dangerous.

A single, focused stream of water burst forth from my palm, moving with such velocity that it was barely visible as more than a blue-white blur. It struck the practice dummy dead center and continued through it as if the reinforced construct were made of paper rather than magical wood and stone.

The dummy's torso simply ceased to exist. One moment there was a complete figure, the next there was just a pair of legs standing beneath empty air, with water droplets raining down on everyone in the immediate vicinity like a gentle summer shower.

The hole my spell had carved was perfectly circular, its edges smooth as glass where the high-pressure water had sheared through the magical materials. The dummy's head tumbled to the ground with a hollow thud, while pieces of its arms scattered across the arena floor.

Once again, complete silence filled the chamber.

But this silence was different from what had followed Alicia's demonstration. Hers had been the quiet of awe at an unexpectedly powerful display. This silence carried undertones of something else entirely – a recognition that what they'd just witnessed shouldn't have been possible from a student, regardless of their talent or training.

The water continued to drip from the ceiling where droplets had been flung by the force of impact, each drop landing with a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the absolute stillness of the arena.

I lowered my hand and looked around at the assembled faces – students, instructors, examiners – all staring at me with expressions ranging from amazement to something that might have been fear.

Well, I thought to myself, so much for not attracting attention.