NOVEL NEXT Chapter 338: The Mid-Term Exam Submission
"You look like you fell into a bonfire," Elara muttered to Amberine, her voice deadpan but with a rare glint of amusement.
Amberine snorted, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Look who's talking, ice queen. You look like you haven't seen a pillow in a week."
Elara shot her a sideways glance, too tired to argue. "Tired or not, I still don't smell like burnt toast."
"Touché," Amberine grumbled, rubbing her eyes. "So, Maris, did you actually manage to finish the damn thing?" she asked, turning to their friend.
Maris yawned and nodded, though the bags under her eyes told a different story. "Barely," she admitted with a weak smile. "I finished it an hour ago. I'm pretty sure I was hallucinating by the end of it."
"Same," Amberine said, slumping into a chair near the front of the hall. "I started seeing Ifrit's little flaming face in the magic circle. Thought I was done for."
"Well, I had to stop midway and rethink my approach three times," Elara admitted, though her calm tone barely hinted at her frustration. "Draven's final question… it was not something you could solve with simple logic."
Maris shook her head, the exhaustion weighing on her even more. "I'm not sure if I actually solved it or just threw something together."
As they settled into their seats, the tension in the room grew palpable. The low murmur of students talking in tired voices was cut short as soon as Draven entered the room. His cold, precise presence immediately silenced the lecture hall. Every student straightened in their chairs, instinctively bracing themselves as if preparing for a storm.
Draven moved with a calm, unhurried confidence, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling at the front.
He didn't need to speak to command attention. His very presence did that.
Without saying a word, he walked to the front desk and stood there, perfectly still, as the second hand on the wall clock ticked closer to the start of class. His entrance was seamless, perfectly timed, as if he was in control of time itself.
The sound of his footsteps had been the only noise in the otherwise silent hall, and now that he stood in front of the class, the students sat in tense anticipation.
Draven glanced at the clock. Exactly 8:00 AM. He finally spoke, his voice cold and calculated, yet calm enough to send chills through the room. "Place your exam papers on the desks in front of you," he instructed. "We will begin the assessment."
The room filled with the rustling sound of papers being placed on desks, a nervous tension settling over the students. Amberine, Elara, and Maris exchanged a quick glance, then complied, their hands shaking slightly as they placed their papers down.
Draven sat, folding his hands elegantly on the desk, his eyes cold and focused. With a simple gesture of his hand, the papers floated off the desks, suspended in midair by his psychokinesis. The air around him seemed to hum with energy as the exam papers hovered in front of him. He began flipping through them one by one without touching them, the papers spinning as if they had lives of their own.
A series of magical circles appeared in the air, projections of the students' final answers. Each student's magic was displayed for all to see—a brief glimpse of their effort and understanding. The tension rose as Draven's sharp gaze assessed each one.
He didn't say much, but his pen, controlled by psychokinesis, marked grades with swift precision.
"C." The paper floated back to its owner, who visibly deflated.
Another circle appeared.
"D." A soft groan escaped from the unlucky student who had clearly struggled.
"B." The student who received it let out a sigh of relief, though their shoulders slumped in disappointment at not achieving higher.
Draven continued like this for several minutes, each projection revealing the results of the mid-term exam. The atmosphere in the room grew more tense as no one seemed to receive higher than a B. Quiet murmurs filled the hall, anxiety rising with each grade.
"Did anyone even get an A?" Amberine whispered, more to herself than anyone else. The lack of perfect scores was unsettling.
Then Draven reached Amberine's, Elara's, and Maris's papers. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable as he projected their final answers. The atmosphere in the room shifted as a ripple of intrigue spread through the students.
First, Amberine's exam appeared before them. A vivid image of a volcano with a wooden hut, a powerful force simmering beneath a controlled surface, filled the room. The glowing magma within the volcano reflected Amberine's raw determination, while the wooden hut symbolized her struggle for control.
The students watched in awe, whispers spreading through the room.
"That's Amberine's?" one student muttered. "It looks like her magic is really refined this time."
Elara's exam followed. The room transformed into the vast, ethereal beauty of outer space, filled with twinkling stars. The stars moved at Elara's command, rearranging themselves with ease. Her golden mana pulsed in rhythm with the stars, creating a harmonious balance between magic and emotion.
"Wow…" another student breathed. "That's… incredible."
"She's controlling the stars," someone else whispered, awe in their voice.
Finally, Maris's projection filled the room, shifting to a dreamlike world of clouds and illusions. The clouds moved fluidly, forming shapes and images that seemed to blend reality and fantasy. It was a world where anything could appear, showcasing Maris's unique gift for illusion magic.
"It's like a dream," one student marveled. "She's creating whole worlds."
As the students murmured among themselves, clearly impressed by the trio's work, Draven remained silent, his sharp gaze fixed on the projections. His cold exterior gave nothing away, but there was a subtle shift in the air—a hint of acknowledgment from the usually impassive professor.
Draven waved his hand, and the projections faded, leaving the class once again in the cold silence of the lecture hall. His pen moved swiftly, marking the papers as they hovered before him. Amberine, Elara, and Maris watched in tense silence as the pen wrote a large A on each of their exam papers.
Draven's gaze flickered toward them, his expression unreadable as always, but there was something close to approval in his eyes—an incredibly rare thing for Draven. "Neophyte Amberine, Neophyte Elara, Neophyte Maris," he began, his voice cold but deliberate, "You have demonstrated a deep understanding of magic beyond mere formulas. For that, you are awarded a perfect score."
"A," He continued.
The rest of the class looked on in a mixture of admiration and envy. No one dared speak, but the feeling was palpable. It wasn't often that Draven gave praise, and even rarer that he awarded perfect scores. Amberine and Elara exchanged a brief, smug glance, their tired faces lighting up with triumph, while Maris smiled softly, still slightly in disbelief.
Draven stood then, commanding the attention of the entire room once more. His voice, though calm, carried an authority that left no room for doubt. "This," he gestured toward the now-faded projections, "is but a glimpse of magic—of how limitless it can become when comprehended at a deeper level. Magic is not confined by formulas or rules, though certain logic can be expressed that way.
But the true limit lies in your own imagination and understanding."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle over the class. "Keep that in mind as you continue your studies," he said, his gaze sweeping across the room, his sharp eyes catching every student in turn. "The boundaries of magic are defined by you. How far you can go is up to your comprehension, your creativity, and your ability to channel your emotions into your spells."
The room was silent, the students hanging on his every word. Draven's final statement left them with a sense of awe, a glimpse of what was possible if they truly understood magic.
"And today," Draven concluded, "we will review how you tackled the exam. Consider this your opportunity to learn how to improve, because this is only the beginning."
As Draven finished speaking, the air in the room seemed lighter, though the gravity of his words lingered. Amberine, Elara, and Maris exchanged glances, each of them knowing that they had only scratched the surface of their potential. They had excelled, but Draven had made it clear—there was always more to learn, more to discover, and their journey was far from over.