I walked back to the applicant group. I didn’t look back as I walked off the training grounds, but I could feel Jesper’s gaze on my back the entire time.
“That’ll be my expertise.” Drecken clapped happily, his sparkly blue eyes meeting mine as I turned back around to fall in line with the others. “One-by-one, you will be going into the simulation chamber for the Arcane Exposure Trial with me. Your job is to survive where spells fluctuate unpredictably?—”
“Survive?” Dad raised a brow, interjecting quickly. “No deaths, Drecken.”
“Not yet?” He blinked.
“Preferably not,” Dad insisted.
He sighed dramatically. “Okay, fine, but that’s not realistic. Instead,” he addressed us, “you must maintain composure, document changes, and neutralize arcane threats. If you can’t handle it, you fail.” He slid his gaze back to Dad. “Better?”
Dad nodded stiffly, casting a worried look between Mom and Pops.
I couldn’t wipe the feral grin off my lips. Drecken sounded unhinged, and I was actually looking forward to that trial.
drecken
. . .
Forty-three students outof the applicant pool failed to withstand an arcane attack to the academy’s standards, but there wasonemore student left…
Rune Bloodwyne;Sabine Bloodwyne’s daughter. Sabine had been a colleague of mine for several decades, but I’d never met her daughter before. I had heard of her, of course. Though, I’d never seen her until today.
And now, I was locked up in the Apex Simulator with this…peculiar young woman.
Her midnight orchid scent overwhelmed me in a way no scent ever had. It wrapped around the edges of my psyche, like a vine growing through an old magic circle.
She was short but not fragile. I saw that much from her spar with the dragon agent. She walked with slow steps rather than bursts of movement. Her hair was impossible, and it intrigued me greatly. Rich, dark greens melted into neon greens at the tips, glowing faintly like bioluminescence. She wore it in two messy knots on top of her head. Loose strands curled around her pleasant-to-look-at face.
I’d never quite enjoyed looking at anyone before, but I reveled in studying her appearance.
Golden eyes, bright as enchanted ambers and twice as unnerving, scanned over the inside of the sleek simulator as if she was measuring how fast she could kill me if she had to. It was rather…cute. I did believe cute was the correct word. She took in the walls that were lined with obsidian mirrors and crystalline-based monitors, mixing enchanted visual and tactile projections with virtual reality scenarios.
When her gaze finally met mine… something ancient and instinctive shifted in my chest. It wasn’t lust. It was bone-deep recognition of power meeting power.
Her skin was pale, faintly luminous, and her build was slender, deceptively so—like a serpent before it strikes. Considering she was a basilisk, same as her mother, it made sense. Tattoos crawled over her rather stunningly: a skull and crossbones on her wrist, a potion bottle inked into her upper arm, a black snake curled around the opposite arm, and the words ‘pretty poison’were scripted in delicate font over her collarbone.
I’d already noticed the piercings on her tongue, ears, and the gleam of light off the one on her belly button that had become visible when her shirt lifted while fighting Jesper.
And I…a warlock who had been around over a century…had completely forgotten what I was supposed to be saying. Because for the first time in all my centuries, I looked at another being with more interest than just power level.
“Professor Grimsworn?” She tilted her head, taking a couple of steps forward. “I’m ready when you are.”
Spatial magic coated my tongue. The air buzzed with layered enchantments, and it pressed against my eardrums.
Something about the way she said my name made my magic twitch. I cleared my throat and turned to the central controlholographic in the center of the simulator. My fingers flicked across the invisible glyphs woven into the air, sparking off magic every few seconds.
With a simple command, the entire simulator could become a war zone, a cityscape, a wasteland, or even a reconstructed historical event. This simulator was adaptive, sentient, and ruthless. Only staff could control it, and even then, some parts of this structure had a mind of their own. It was a fact that we had to face, and I had a hand in creating this particular one.
“Initiating Arcane Exposure Trial. Version seven,” I said smoothly.
I was confident version seven wouldn’t kill someone of her stature.
With a low hiss, the simulator transformed.
The obsidian floor shattered into a hundred glowing rocks, each one floating at an angle. The walls splintered into spires of crystals, rippling with unstable spell intentions. An aurora of unfiltered energy shimmered across the air, and every few seconds, the magical field surged.
The simulator became a living arcane being.Breathing.Testing.
