New Story Teaser: Chapters 2 & 3 + Some Q&A

Hey everyone! For context about why I'm posting this, please check out my announcement post here (it's also where you can read chapter 1 of the new story!)

Hopefully, these extra chapters will help you get a better idea of what the new story will be about. Also, to clarify some questions I got in the last post:

Q: Will this new story affect the Patreon subscription price for Chloe the Zombie?
A: No, the new story will have a separate Patreon tier.

Q: Will I have an upload schedule for the new story?
A: Yes, but I will not be launching this story until early 2026.

Q: Will the new story affect the posting schedule for Chloe the Zombie?
A: Not anytime soon. Chloe's schedule both on RR and Patreon will be remain the same.

That being said, hope you enjoy these preview chapters! I'd also love to hear any thoughts you might have about the new story in the comments.

2. Selection

While the academy offered special accommodations for faculty, Lucian hadn’t bothered with any of them just yet. He spent the evening buried in the library, staying until the last candle burned out and the staff gently hinted it was time to leave. With an armful of borrowed books, he returned to his office and read through the night.

Lucian had shed the need for food and drink centuries ago, and sleep, while still a pleasant luxury, was no longer a requirement. That meant he could, and did, spend the entire night reading through academy policy and his assigned schedule.

He found his class timetable a bit odd, since both of his lessons were scheduled back-to-back on the first two days of the week. Still, he assumed this was because he’d been added to the roster late and had to take whatever time slots remained.

By morning, he had made a decision. If the system insisted on dangling tasks in front of him, he might as well oblige for now. And conveniently, he could complete two of them at once: conduct his first class, and hold it outdoors.

That was how he found himself under the morning sky, standing at one of the academy’s outer training grounds. At a glance, the field stretched somewhere between three and four hundred feet across, give or take a few strides.

A line of trees marked its perimeter. At the far end, a row of wooden benches rested beneath the trees, set for spectators.

Before him stood thirty students. Their uniforms were mostly in order, black vests worn over white shirts, paired with dark pants or skirts depending on the student. Each vest was embroidered with the academy’s lion-head crest. Unfortunately, whatever discipline the uniform was meant to suggest didn’t quite carry over to their posture.

A few stood tall and alert, but most slouched or shifted, some hiding yawns behind half-raised hands. Their expressions ranged from politely blank to openly bored. 

Lucian didn’t hold it against them. If anything, he found it all mildly amusing. 

He folded his hands behind his back and offered a pleasant smile. “Good morning. I’m Professor Lucian Godwinson, and I’ll be teaching you Advanced Principles and Applications of Magical Theory.”

He let the words hang for a moment, just long enough for a few students to trade glances. Then, in a lighter tone, he added, “And before anyone asks, the reason we’re outside is because I have something special planned for our first class."

A few polite chuckles rippled through the crowd. One red-haired, blue-eyed student near the front raised his hand halfway, then spoke without waiting to be called on. “Is that how they teach in Norwood? Out in the fields, with the sheep?”

The joke was neither clever nor original, but it earned him laughter from a handful of students nearby. The cocky student leaned back with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased with himself.

Lucian said nothing. He didn’t smile, didn’t frown. He simply looked at the students for a long time. 

The laughter started to fade after a few seconds. By the first full minute, students began shifting awkwardly. Some glanced at each other, with one particular student looking rather annoyed at the sudden quietness.

Lucian gave all them three more seconds, then finally spoke. “Are we finished?” 

“Did I strike a nerve, Professor?" the red-haired boy asked mockingly. 

“Please, if you’re going to be this disruptive before the lesson even starts, you’re free to leave. In fact… I’d prefer it if most of you left.”

Total silence followed. A few students exchanged confused looks, unsure if they’d heard correctly.

“I’m being serious,” Lucian continued. “This is an advanced elective. Not a core subject. I’ve read the academy’s policy in full, and as long as I have four students by the end of this month, I’m allowed to continue teaching.”

He began pacing slowly in front of the students, hands still behind his back. “So if you’re not interested, do us both a favor. Get out of my class and find something easier. I won’t hold it against you.”

He paused and glanced over the group. This time, no one laughed. 

A few students exchanged hesitant looks. One girl in the second row opened her mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it.

But of course, the red-haired boy eventually stepped forward. “I'm Julius Vexford, son of Duke Victor Vexford. My family helped fund the east wing of this very academy. And what house do you belong to, exactly, Professor Godwinson?”

Lucian didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at the boy.

Instead, he conjured a piece of chalk out of thin air. Gasps rippled through the crowd, their earlier disdain replaced by sudden curiosity.

With the chalk in hand, Lucian took a few steps back from the group and drew a perfect circle around his feet. When he finished, the chalk vanished into thin air.

Then, with a smile, he looked up at the students. “If you want to be part of this class, all you have to do is move me out of this circle. If you can’t, or if you’re simply not interested, then you’re free to leave. Class assignments won’t be finalized until the end of the month, so there’s no penalty for walking out now.”

Lucian glanced over the group again. Nobody said a thing. 

“Let me repeat myself one more time. Anyone who wants to be in this class must move me from this circle, that’s all. If you think that’s beneath you, or beyond you, you’re free to leave. No shame in it. Teamwork is allowed, though I’d prefer to see what each of you can do alone.”

Lucian let the silence stretch, his gaze sweeping over the group. Most of the students still looked hesitant. 

It was clear enough what they were thinking, that if they went all out, they might actually hurt him. The idea nearly made him laugh, though he couldn’t fault them for the concern. From their perspective, vaporizing a professor on the first day probably wasn’t the best start to their academic careers. 

Still, he wanted to see what they could truly do, not how carefully they could hold back. “I suppose a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt,” he said aloud. “My clothes are enchanted with protection wards that can resist spells up to the Seventh Tier. So please, do try not to hold back."

What Lucian had just said was, of course, a complete fabrication. Still, he was fairly certain it sounded believable enough, after all, Seventh-Tier magic was hardly anything remarkable in his eyes.

The tension in the room eased slightly as a few students murmured to one another. Then, inevitably, one of them stepped forward: Julius. “I don’t know how someone like you managed to get your hands on enchantments like that. But I suppose that means you’ll be safe from my magic.”

“You’re welcome to test that theory. Use whatever magic you like, all you need to do is move me from this circle.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know."

Lucian said nothing further. He just folded his hands behind his back and waited, perfectly still. Then, Julius narrowed his eyes and began to channel mana into his right palm.

A glowing red magic circle began to form in the air before him. It was large, messy, and utterly lacking in refinement. Lines jittered where they should have flowed. Runes bled into each other. But it still crackled with heat and power, and judging from the gasps and murmurs, it was enough to impress the watching crowd.

Soon, a stream of fire surged from the circle, roaring towards Lucian. Heat distorting the air as it raced toward his unmoving figure.

But just before it reached him, the fire twisted and curved around the chalk circle on the ground. The flames wrapped in two arcs around Lucian’s body and vanished into the grass behind him, leaving not even a hint of lasting damage. 

The silence that followed was thick. Most of the students looked stunned, though Julius’s expression went from cocky to disbelief in record time.

“If showing off a fourth-tier spell like flame torrent is the extent of your capabilities, you should leave now. I’m not interested in teaching mediocrity.” Lucian said bluntly. 

Julius’s face turned a deep shade of red, fists clenched tight at his sides. “What… just happened?”

Lucian didn’t answer. He simply gave the boy a flat, unimpressed look. “Are you done?”

“No,” Julius snapped, scowling.

He raised both hands again, and this time, a magic circle manifested beneath Lucian’s feet. It expanded quickly, broader and more elaborate than his last attempt, pulsing with raw energy.

With a shout, Julius unleashed the spell. A pillar of fire exploded upward, engulfing Lucian in a searing column of fire. The blaze roared skyward, its heat radiated out in waves, forcing several nearby students to stagger back, shielding their faces from the sudden blast.

But when the flames receded, Lucian was still utterly unharmed. His coat wasn’t singed. His boots hadn't shifted an inch. Even the chalk circle at his feet remained completely untouched. 

Lucian let out a breath through his nose. How disappointing.

Across from him, Julius stared in disbelief. “How are you untouched? What kind of barrier spell is that circle?”

Lucian raised a hand. “I’ve seen enough. A fifth-tier spell might impress your peers, Julius, but let’s not pretend it’s anything remarkable. You should go."

“I… what? You can’t just—”

“Must I repeat myself?”

Julius’s mouth opened, then closed again. For a moment, the boy looked almost lost, until his anger returned. “You’ll regret this. I’ll make you pay. You’ll wish you’d never—”

“Yes, yes,” Lucian sighed, waving a hand as though brushing away a bothersome insect. “Now kindly go before you waste any more of everyone’s time.”

Julius turned on his heel and stormed across the field, throwing one last glare over his shoulder before going far enough to where he could no longer be seen. Lucian watched him leave with faint amusement, then turned to address the rest of the students.

“If any of you feel intimidated or believe this class might not suit your current level of ability, I won’t be offended if you choose to leave.”

A few students exchanged uneasy looks. After a brief silence, several quietly stepped away, heading toward the edge of the grounds. Lucian gave a small nod of approval. At least a few possessed self-awareness.

Still too many left, though. I was really hoping more would take the hint.

He clapped his hands once. “Alright then. For those who remain, if you wish to stay in this class, step forward and try to move me out of this circle.”

For a moment, no one moved. Then a girl stepped forward, conjuring a green magic circle that flared once before she unleashed a slicing gust of wind. The spell broke harmlessly against the invisible barrier.

Next came a boy who sent a volley of ice shards flying toward him. They shattered harmlessly against the barrier, scattering like snowflakes. Another student attempted to conjure stone hands to drag him away, but they couldn't get past Lucian's chalk circle before crumbling apart.

Then there was one particularly creative soul who filled the field with mist, and followed it up with a mana blast aimed at Lucian’s feet. It missed by several inches, kicking up a puff of dust. None of it worked, of course, though Lucian had to admire the attempt.

More and more students took their turn, hurling spell after spell in an effort to move Lucian from the circle. Yet every attempt failed, some spells curved harmlessly around the chalk line, while others fizzled out before even reaching him.

Lucian watched it all with mild interest at first, offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment or a slight nod of approval. But as the barrage continued with no sign of improvement, his curiosity began to fade, giving way to disappointment. 

Was this really what passed for elite talent now? Back in his day, no one so much as stepped into an advanced academy without casting tier seven spells. What he saw here barely scraped tier four at best. 

He allowed the rest of the students to try. None of them even came close to doing anything remarkable.

Eventually, every remaining student had taken a turn, and the result remained the same. Lucian hadn’t budged an inch. 

Eventually, Lucian offered the group a courteous nod. “Thank you all for your efforts. But I’m afraid this class is not for you.”

Half a dozen voices rose at once, begging for one more attempt. One girl even offered to do extra coursework to get in the class. Lucian declined each and every request. 

As the defeated students began to shuffle away, Lucian released a quiet sigh. Perhaps he had set his standards too high. 

It was difficult to tell whether Celgrad Imperial Academy was truly less distinguished than he’d been led to believe, or if centuries of perspective had made him impossible to impress. Either way, he didn't particularly care.

Yet, there was one student who had yet to make an attempt. She hadn’t fidgeted, whispered, or made the slightest effort to draw attention to herself. She had simply stood there and watched.

Her eyes were a bright golden yellow, standing out even more against her dark blue hair. The layered strands reached just past her shoulders and were tied back with a red ribbon.

Lucian’s gaze lingered on her. Why does she look so familiar?

The girl finally stepped forward. “Professor. That circle you’re standing in, is it a sixth tier anti magic barrier?”

Lucian was genuinely surprised by the question. Every other student so far had simply thrown spells at him without a hint of thought, but this one had pointed out something worth noticing. “Yes, it is. How did you figure that out?”

She raised a hand and tapped her temple lightly. “It's thanks to my eyes. I can see magic more clearly than most people.”

Lucian narrowed his gaze. Golden eyes with heightened perception, dark blue hair, and if his memory served, lightning affinity often ran through that particular bloodline. The pattern was obvious now. “Are you, by any chance, proficient in lightning magic?”

The girl nodded. “It’s my best element.”

“Then you must be a Belkov.”

“Vivianne Belkov. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor Godwinson.”

The name stirred something familiar in Lucian’s memory. Centuries ago, he had known Uria Belkov, the Lightning Lord, a mage whose power and pride had both been legendary. A friend, most of the time, and also a rival when the mood struck.

It was strange, seeing the echo of that same presence in someone so young. A faint smile touched Lucian’s lips as he regarded her with renewed interest. “I expect great things from you, Miss Belkov. Your family’s reputation for magical talent is known across the world. I trust you’ll uphold that legacy.”

Vivianne inclined her head respectfully before stepping into position opposite him. Her stride drew a wave of gossip from the remaining students.

“She’s got this for sure!”

“She ranked first in the entry exams, and has the highest mana output in decades.”

"The Professor might actually be in trouble."

Lucian let their chatter drift to his ears, mildly entertained. His focus, however, remained on Vivianne. 

She had worn a mostly neutral expression up to this point. But now, for the first time, she looked truly engaged. “I’ll be honest, Professor, I didn’t expect to learn anything here. After all, I’ve studied under some of the most brilliant mages in the empire since I was a child."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “And yet here you are.”

“Yes, because I want to learn from you. And I swear on the Belkov name that I’ll earn a place in your class.”

Lucian’s smile deepened. There was something refreshing about her conviction. “I like your spirit. Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Vivianne nodded, then raised a hand and pointed toward Lucian. A bolt of lightning shot across the space between them in an instant.

There was no magic circle, no chant, no warning. The lightning struck the barrier with a sharp hiss before dissipating harmlessly into the air.

“Instantaneous casting,” Lucian remarked, clearly impressed. “Not bad, Vivianne. You’re the first student here to manage that.”

Vivianne didn’t look discouraged by the failed attempt. Instead, her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the chalk circle around his feet. “This circle is impressive. But I’ll break through."

She drew a breath and raised both hands. Lucian looked up, watching with interest as a massive blue magic circle bloomed into existence above him. Lightning coiled along its edges, pulsing brighter with every second.

Then, her voice rang out. “Heavenly Judgment.”

A deafening crack split the sky as a pillar of lightning came crashing down. Blue and white light engulfed the field in a blinding flash, forcing several students to shield their eyes. A few staggered back, stunned by the sheer force of the spell.

Lucian, however, didn’t move. The lightning didn’t damage him. 

Instead, it moved around his body, wrapping over his shoulders and arms. The energy curled around him like a cloak.

Vivianne stood rooted in place, eyes wide. “That’s… that’s…”

Lucian turned toward her, lightning still trailing across his body. “This is Lightning Armor. Quite an efficient technique, if I do say so myself.”

Vivianne stared, stunned silent. Lucian, on the other hand, was delighted. 

“Come now, show me some more tricks, would you? You’re finally making this test interesting.”

Just as Lucian was looking forward to another spell, Vivianne spoke again, and her question hit with more force than any bolt she could have cast. “Professor… are we… related, somehow?”

For a second, he blinked at her. Of all the things she could’ve said, that hadn’t even made the list.

He chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I can assure you, I’m definitely not a Belkov.”

Vivianne didn’t back down. She tilted her head, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I don’t mean officially. You know how some of the men in my family are. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few… unregistered branches running around. And that lightning armor technique was a bloodline spell, something only a Belkov should have been able to use."

Lucian wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. How was I supposed to know it was a bloodline technique? 

He had learned the lightning armor technique ages ago, long before anyone had mentioned lineage restrictions. Yet, when he glanced back at the students, he was met with eyes that looked at him with awe. 

One boy near the back hesitantly raised a hand. “Professor, are you actually the son of a Belkov?”

Lucian sighed. I really shouldn’t have used Uria’s spell. 

3. Vision 

To be born a Belkov was to witness the world in ways others could never dream. And for Vivianne, that truth had always been blindingly literal.

From the moment she’d first opened her eyes as a child, she could see the flow of mana all around the world. It had shape, color, rhythm. A wild, beautiful language the world whispered to her constantly. She’d understood none of it at first, only that it moved and shimmered and pulsed with life.

Even before she could walk, she had wanted to chase it. Most treated mana as something to be studied, tamed, understood. To her, it had always been present in everything, impossible to ignore. And her eyes had never once let her look away.

She had seen mana everywhere, even in the most ordinary parts of her life. It trailed from the hands of servants as they moved about their duties, shimmered faintly with each breath her family took, and clung to her pets as they slept at the foot of her bed. Even the insects in the garden carried threads of it. Nothing in her world had ever been hidden from her sight.

However, that sight came with a cost. As a child, she had nearly gone mad from seeing too much, too often. It had taken years of brutal control to dull it.

To pretend she saw the world in dull gray like everyone else. To look a teacher in the eye and not be distracted by the blotchy, uneven flow of mana crawling through their channels. To walk through the streets and not stare.

But the hunger had never gone away. Not really.

She learned to speak with the calm confidence expected of a Belkov. To answer questions with clarity and poise. But beneath the surface, burned that question she had carried her whole life: What are the limits of magic?

Vivianne hadn’t found the answer at Celgrad. Not even close.

Most students at the Academy had embarrassingly weak mana cores. Their mana channels were warped, neglected, and sloppy. Worst still, and many of them didn’t even seem to care. No one else seemed to burn with the same quiet desperation she felt. No one else looked at magic like it was everything.

The professors were marginally better. A handful showed signs of refinement, mana cores with some depth, channels shaped by actual practice. Serviceable, at best. But even then, none of them measured up. None of them were enough. None... except one.

From the moment Vivianne laid eyes on Professor Lucian Godwinson, something in her stirred. Something she hadn’t felt in years.

Initially, he looked ordinary. Too ordinary. 

His mana was almost nonexistent, at least as far as she could sense. That should have been impossible.

No one entered Celgrad Imperial Academy without possessing at least some talent for magic. Even the most inept novice shimmered faintly to her sight. The only other person Vivianne had ever failed to see was the Headmistress, Elysia Iridell, a woman whose reputation placed her among the legends of old.

For anyone else to fall into that category was... inconceivable. Which left only one explanation. Professor Godwinson wasn’t weak. He was hiding his potential. 

And when he raised his hand to summon a piece of chalk, she understood why.

Of course, Vivianne could conjure a piece of chalk herself easily. But what he conjured wasn’t simple. The chalk in his hand pulsed with dense, compressed mana, folded so tightly upon itself that the very air around it recoiled, unwilling to touch it.

And then he drew a circle. The moment the chalk met the ground, her composure almost cracked. 

Beneath the floor, she spotted the real structure, layered magic circles, tightly interlocked with precision. She identified at least six distinct formations, all part of a sixth-tier Anti-Magic Barrier.

Normally, a setup like that required hours of planning, detailed calculations, and often a full support team just to lay the groundwork. But he had done it in seconds. And somehow, he’d hidden the entire thing underground, masked so well that even she had nearly missed it.

Vivianne’s curiosity twisted into something sharper. She had to know.

She stepped forward and tested the barrier. Though her initial attempt barely left a mark, which only made her double down. 

She finally cast Heavenly Judgment, a seventh-tier lightning spell from her family’s arsenal. It should have been enough.

But the moment it landed, the Professor caught it. The lightning bent as it hit him, contorting mid-air, and then folded into his body. 

She recognized the spell Professor Godwinson used right away, Divine Lightning Armor of Retribution. It was a Belkov bloodline technique, closely guarded and passed down through generations. No one outside the family was supposed to know it, let alone cast it with that level of expertise.

And yet, there he was. Not only casting it, but renaming it to simply, "Lightning Armor.” The name was absurdly plain, and Vivianne nearly laughed. Yet as much as the name grated on her, she couldn’t deny the technique was flawless. 

The strangest part was how fast it all happened. Even now, Vivianne still couldn’t see Professor Godwinson’s mana core or his channels. To her eyes, he still looked like someone with no mana at all. But that clearly wasn’t true. After what she’d just witnessed, there was no doubt he had a vast amount of mana, and he was hiding it with terrifying mastery.

And now, she couldn’t stop wondering. Where did someone like this even come from?

She had spent her entire life chasing the outer limits of magic. Reading every book she could find, testing spells, breaking them apart, searching for something greater, anything that might reveal what magic was truly capable of. And now, she’d found it. Standing in front of her. 

Belkov blood, she thought. He had to have it. No one else used lightning like that. 

Professor Godwinson didn’t have the family’s signature features, but what if he was a half-blood? Maybe a distant relative? It wasn’t impossible.

But whatever his origins were, one thing was clear. Vivianne felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. Not curiosity, not admiration: awe. 

***

Lucian could see it in Vivianne’s eyes; she was utterly convinced he was a Belkov. The way her gaze tracked the fading residue of lightning around him, the way her sight lingered on his arm, the way her expression sharpened when he moved, all of it said the same thing. She thought she had caught him. 

The truth, however, was very simple. He was not a Belkov and never had been.He had known Uria, yes; fought beside him, shared more than a few drinks, and learned nearly all of his techniques. But there had never been shared blood between them. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to prove that to a determined descendant.

Still, Lucian had a cover story to maintain, and he intended to stick to it as closely as possible.  “I appreciate the curiosity. But I’m not a Belkov, nor will I ever be. I’m a Godwinson, through and through, born in Norwood, which, if memory serves, is quite a distance from Celgrad.”

Vivianne did not so much as blink. “But you must have at least some Belkov blood in you, Professor. Divine Lightning Armor of Retribution, or whatever you called it, is a Belkov bloodline technique. No one outside the family should be able to use it.”

Around them, the remaining students began whispering in earnest. A few leaned toward one another, eyes wide, clearly encouraged by Vivianne’s certainty. He caught snatches of their murmurs drifting on the wind.

“So he really is one?”

“But his hair isn't blue."

“Maybe he’s an illegitimate son.”

“Do you think the Headmistress knows?”

Lucian resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Goodness, how do I get out of this? 

He turned back to Vivianne with a patient sigh. “I’ll say it again, Vivianne, I’m not one of yours. I learned the Divine Lightning Armor of Retribution spell by chance.”

Vivianne narrowed her eyes. “We will see about that, Professor. There is a way to tell. A sure way.”

That finally made him wary. He could sense Vivianne's mana, which was certainly potent, as expected from a Belkov. The power pulsed against his senses, but power wasn’t the same as control, and whatever she was hinting at didn’t sound like something a student should be attempting.

“Vivianne, do not do anything reckless.”

“With respect, Professor, you said anyone who could move you from that circle could be in your class. I intend to stay. Even if I have to force your blood to respond.”

Vivianne clasped her hands together. Lightning skittered across her arms, first in thin strands, then in larger arcs that crawled over her shoulders and along her back. Her golden eyes flared bright, and the air itself seemed to vibrate. Several of the watching students stepped back instinctively.

Lucian felt the spell’s pattern taking shape and, with a sinking sort of amusement, realized what she was attempting. She wasn’t preparing another attack, she was trying to summon that. And there was no way he would let it happen.

He moved before she could finish. Lightning cracked beneath his feet as he activated Flash Step. 

In less than a second, he was in front of her. His hand came down firmly on her shoulder. “That’s quite enough.”

The moment his fingers touched her, the lightning that had been building around Vivianne surged toward him instead. It leapt from her entire body and sank into him as if he were a far deeper, far more natural conduit. The charged air eased at once. Vivianne’s eyes dimmed back to normal. Where there had been crackling mana, now there was only the faintest tingle along his arm.

Vivianne stared up at him, stunned. “You… absorbed it. You really must have Belkov blood in you."

Lucian sighed softly. He really hadn’t wanted to use more than one of Uria Belkov’s techniques, but at this point, what choice did he have? 

Lightning magic was volatile. Beautiful, yes, but also the most temperamental and unstable of the elemental arts. 

Coincidentally, Uria’s methods had always been the most efficient way to handle it safely. It seems I’m indebted to that man, even centuries later.

For now, though, it felt wiser to steer the conversation away from family trees and misplaced ancestry. “Believe whatever version of history makes you happiest, Vivianne. But for now, accept your victory.”

“My… victory?”

“You are the only student today who managed to make me intervene. Which means you are the only one who passed. Congratulations, you may take a seat in my class.”

Vivianne immediately bowed her head. “Thank you for the opportunity, Professor Godwinson. I’ll do my best in your class.”

“I expect nothing less. Now then, everyone else is dismissed, except for Vivianne.” Lucian said, eyeing the rest of the students. 

A few students lingered uncertainly before beginning to disperse. Just as Lucian thought the matter settled, a boy near the back raised his hand. “Professor, will there be more tests like this in the future?”

Lucian tapped a finger against his chin. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I do still need at least four additional students to meet the academy’s quota. So yes, there will be more tests. The next one will take place during my upcoming class in a few days."

The boy nodded, and a few others actually looked excited as they murmured among themselves. Once the last of the group had departed, Vivianne looked up at him. “Professor, if it isn’t too much trouble, would you tell me more about your background? I’m quite curious.”

Lucian lifted a hand, and a pocket watch shimmered into existence between his fingers. He flicked it open, watching the hands tick lazily forward before closing it again with a soft click. “It seems that our class is just about over. We’ll have to continue this conversation another time.”

He had expected a nod, perhaps a polite farewell. Instead, Vivianne stepped forward, eyes bright with unmistakable eagerness. "Wait, I’d like to ask just one more—"

She caught herself mid-sentence, jaw tightening as if she realized the words had slipped past her filters. Lucian raised an eyebrow. 

He had initially assumed Vivianne was the calm and composed type, but in that moment, she seemed like someone entirely different. Soon, she blinked, and the change was immediate. Her posture straightened, and her voice settled back into its usual measured tone. "Apologies, Professor. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll leave you be... for now."

She offered a slight bow. "Thank you for the lesson."

Lucian inclined his head in return, still watching her with quiet interest. "Until next time."

As she walked away, Lucian could barely resist a chuckle. The Belkov family had always possessed an unrelenting hunger for magical excellence, and clearly, Vivianne was no exception.

Still, before he could reflect further, a sudden shimmer of light flickered to life in the air ahead of him. 

[Task Completed: Finish teaching your first class (Reward: 5 points)]

[Task Completed: Conduct a class outdoors (Reward: 5 points)]

His plan to finish two tasks at once had worked perfectly. That left only one more, which was appointing a teaching assistant. After that, he would have enough points to purchase his first reward from the System. 

With the class finally behind him, Lucian decided a visit to Elysia was in order. There were matters worth discussing after his first rather eventful lesson. 

Unfortunately, reaching the faculty building proved more troublesome than expected. Curious students seemed determined to slow his progress.

At first, it was the ones he’d dismissed from his class, eager to redeem themselves or at least satisfy their curiosity. They asked about his methods, his background, how he’d learned magic. And, inevitably, whether he was truly related to Vivianne Belkov. 

Lucian answered as patiently as he could. It wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to build a respectable image within the academy.

Before long, though, it wasn’t just his former students. Groups of unfamiliar faces began appearing from every corner, drawn by rumor or idle curiosity, all eager to ask their own questions.

Some of the female students, however, presented a different sort of challenge. They lingered longer than necessary, asking questions straying well beyond anything remotely academic. 

Lucian suspected that curiosity about his class wasn’t the only thing drawing their attention. So, naturally, he made a point of excusing himself at the earliest opportunity; idle chatter had never been his area of interest, and he preferred to keep interactions with students strictly professional.

By the time he finally managed to escape the crowd, the light had already begun to fade toward evening. Even so, he continued toward the faculty building, determined to speak with Elysia before the day ended. 

Once inside, he climbed the staircase to the upper levels. Until at last, he stopped before an oak door with a brass plaque that read: Elysia Iridell, Headmistress.

He rapped his knuckles lightly against the wood. A moment later, a familiar voice called from within. “Come in.”

The moment he entered, a familiar calm washed over him. Elysia’s office hadn’t changed much, it was still less an office and more a miniature garden disguised as one. Sunlight streamed through glass windows, while vines trailed along the ceiling beams. And in one corner, a small tree grew from an ornate planter.

Her desk stood at the center of the room, the wood still faintly alive with a gentle pulse of magic. Behind it stretched a wide window overlooking the courtyard below.

Elysia sat behind her desk, her posture slumped slightly, exhaustion softening the sharp lines of her usual composure. She looked drained at first, but when she looked up and saw him, warmth returned to her gaze. “Lucian. Sit, please.”

He pulled out a chair and settled into it, looking at her for a moment. “You look exhausted. Should I be concerned, or is this just the usual fallout of running an empire’s finest academy?”

Elysia gave a weary chuckle, leaning back in her chair. “Bureaucracy, mostly. I’ve filled out so many forms this week, I’m convinced half of them exist purely to justify the other half.”

“And that is precisely why I never became a bureaucrat. Even after all these centuries, I’ve managed to avoid that particular form of torture. This professor job is the closest I’ve ever come to a desk position.”

“You’ll get used to the paperwork soon enough, speaking of…"

With the timing of a practiced sadist, Elysia reached into a drawer and took out a thick stack of papers, placing them before him. “These are for you to fill in. The end of the week should be plenty of time.”

“And what exactly are all of these papers form?"

“Standard faculty documentation, classroom conduct forms, departmental reports, term syllabus confirmations… ah, and your annual health assessment. I also included written instructions for a few things, to help keep your cover story consistent.”

Lucian exhaled through his nose. “How thoughtful of you.” 

He placed a hand atop the stack, and with a faint shimmer of light, the entire pile vanished into thin air. Elysia raised an eyebrow. “Teleported them to your office?”

“I did. That way, I can ignore them in comfort.”

Elysia laughed softly, shaking her head. “I wish I could still do that.”

She looked content enough on the surface, but something in her tone made Lucian’s smile falter. “Are you truly alright, Elysia? Living like this?” 

Elysia paused, her expression softening as she leaned back slightly. “It’s been years since I last relied on magic, so I’ve adapted. Besides, you should save your concern for someone who actually needs it.”

Lucian straightened in his seat as the tone of her voice changed. He had known Elysia long enough to recognize what she meant. 

“I had another vision. It wasn’t a long one this time, but it was… inconvenient, to say the least. It struck while I was carrying a stack of documents. You can imagine how that ended.”

“Not well, I assume. But seriously, what did you see?”

“I… saw Vivianne Belkov die.”