The Villain Professor's Second Chance

"Curse you, Draven," Amberine muttered under her breath. "You and your impossible exams."

Just a few hours ago, she'd helped that kid—probably the son of some noble—who had been struggling with one of Draven's mid-term test questions. She hadn't intended to assist, but watching him fumble through question five had been too frustrating. Eventually, the boy had been picked up by a knight, leaving Amberine alone in the now-deserted study room of Magic Tower University (MTU).

She'd thought about staying, but the air had felt too suffocating. Besides, she preferred the comfort of her own room.

Ifrit, the fire spirit that lived beneath her robe, had been silently watching over her the entire time. She barely noticed the warmth he provided, a gentle heat that kept her at the perfect temperature to stay focused. Unbeknownst to her, Ifrit was keeping her from falling apart.

And yet, despite the warmth, despite the brief rest from helping that kid, Amberine felt the weight of exhaustion pulling her down.

"I can't rest here," she muttered to herself, rising unsteadily from her seat in the study room. "Not at MTU."

What she didn't know was that Elara had been nearby the whole time, silently working in the next room over, her presence unnoticed by Amberine. Elara, as indifferent and stoic as ever, might have lent her some advice—had Amberine known she was there.

Amberine returned to her room and collapsed into her chair, the familiar surroundings offering no comfort. Her bed looked inviting, but there was no time for sleep. She was far too stubborn, and perhaps a little too proud, to admit defeat. Draven's final exam loomed over her like a storm cloud, and she wasn't going to rest until she had conquered it.

She opened her magical notebook, staring at the final question that had haunted her for the last several hours:

"The Convergence of Magic and Emotion: Design a spell that converges deep emotions into its core, amplifying its power. Choose an emotion and explain how it is infused into the magic. Also, explain the risks if the emotion overwhelms the spell."

Amberine sighed, rubbing her temples. It wasn't that the question was difficult in the traditional sense. No, it was worse—it was abstract. The kind of abstract question that left room for interpretation, but also a thousand ways to fail. Draven had crafted it with his usual cold precision, a test not of knowledge but of understanding.

"Magic and emotion," she muttered, pacing the room as her mind churned through the possibilities. "What does that even mean?"

Her body ached, her muscles stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. Her eyes were heavy, and her mind was clouded with exhaustion. She wasn't thinking clearly, but there was no time for rest. Not now. Not when she was so close.

But this question... this question was something different. It struck at something deeper, something she had always struggled with—balancing her emotions with her magic. Fire was her element, and fire had always been tied to emotion, but she had never truly mastered the art of control. She had power, raw and untamed, but it was unpredictable. Now Draven was asking her to confront that flaw directly.

Amberine clenched her fists, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Damn it! Why does it have to be this? Why can't it just be a straightforward spell?"

She paced the room again, her eyes falling on the stacks of books beside her bed. She had tried looking for answers in them, hoping for some hidden clue, but the more she studied, the more she realized that the answers weren't in any book. Draven had made sure of that. The previous questions—questions six through nine—had been similar.

None of them had been solvable by simply reading a text or memorizing formulas. They had required creativity, understanding, and intuition. This one would be no different.

With a frustrated sigh, Amberine sank back into her chair, her mind racing. What emotion could she use to fuel the spell? Love? No, that was too overwhelming, too uncontrollable. Fear? Far too volatile.

Neither of those would work.

Then it came to her.

Determination.

It was the one emotion she knew better than anything else. It was what had kept her going through these sleepless nights, through the endless exams and challenges. Her relentless pursuit of success, her refusal to give up, that was her core. Determination. It wasn't as wild or overwhelming as love or fear. It was steady, strong, unyielding. Your next journey awaits at empire

It was who she was.

"Determination it is," she muttered, grabbing a quill and a fresh piece of parchment.

She began sketching the outlines of a magic circle, the runes flowing from her quill with a practiced ease. Focus, willpower, clarity—these were the runes that would form the foundation of her spell. They represented the core of determination, the strength to push forward even when the world was against you.

As the circle took shape, Amberine could feel the magic stirring within her, the fire beneath her skin responding to the runes. This was it. This was how she would amplify her magic, by channeling her unwavering resolve into the spell. The more determined she was, the stronger the spell would become.

But there was a danger here. She knew that determination, like any emotion, could be a double-edged sword. If the caster lost control, if their determination morphed into obsession, the spell could become unstable. It could backfire, consuming the caster in their own relentless drive. Amberine understood that all too well—she had seen what happened when determination became an obsession.

She had been there once, nearly consumed by her own ambition.

With that in mind, she carefully inscribed counter-runes into the circle. These would act as a safeguard, ensuring that the spell only drew as much emotional power as the caster could handle. It was a delicate balance, one that required precision and control, but Amberine was no stranger to walking that fine line.

The magic circle glowed faintly on the parchment, the runes humming with energy. Amberine sat back, staring at her creation. It was almost finished. All she had to do now was finalize the details, refine the runes, and then—

A wave of exhaustion hit her, threatening to drag her under. Her eyelids fluttered, and for a brief moment, she considered letting herself drift off to sleep. But no. She couldn't. Not yet.

"Come on, Amberine," she whispered to herself, her voice barely above a breath. "I know you can do this."

Her eyes scanned the magic circle one last time, looking for any flaws, any weaknesses in the design. Everything seemed perfect, but there was something—something she couldn't quite place. She leaned in closer, her tired eyes struggling to focus.

As she studied the runes, the glow of the magic circle seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat, and for a moment, she felt as though the circle was alive.

"That's strange," she muttered, leaning even closer.

Then she felt it—a presence, subtle at first, but unmistakable. Someone was watching her. No, not someone—something. Amberine blinked, her tired mind struggling to process what was happening. She was in her room, alone, yet the sensation of being observed was undeniable.